One View On Interracial Cuckolding

My pet posted to tumblr about a first meeting I had:

My Queen is meeting a new black bull right now. I am excited for her and for us. It is a beautiful dance we navigate together. My stomach is flipped as I wait for updates on how they are getting along and if he worthy of courting her.

And another gent reblogged, adding the comment:

Cuckoldry is all fine and good, if you’re into that. But why are two shits given about the race of the other man? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

This is my view of interracial cuckolding, and my answer to him.

I can answer you for us, not for anyone else.

I’ve always loved the look of darker hair, darker eyes, darker skin. I was married to a black man and with him for 15 years of my life. While I’m not exclusively into black men, it’s been a preference of mine.

My Pet, well, he loves the aesthetics of seeing dark skin against my very pale flesh (I am naturally light-skinned, and I mostly stay out of the sun and use SPF). He also enjoys the idea that I look for someone completely different than he is in my lovers.

Since I tend to go for taller, very well-built, hung men as well, it adds another dimension of difference, which heightens the cuckoldry.

Also, since I have a sweet, pale, ginger boy for my very own that I love dearly, when I look for a lover, I tend to look for something very different. Variety. And since I naturally gravitate towards darker skin, that’s where my inclination is.

Now, for the bulls or lovers, they like it, too. They like the color contrast. Some like the race play. We certainly don’t play this game with anyone non-consensually or make an object out of anyone (unless they specifically want that).

And one more thing: A lot of my audience prefers interracial cuckolding as well, so the race is mentioned, so that they can not only enjoy what we do, but also realize that we do it, enjoy it, and it is an attainable lifestyle.

So, yes. We like black men in our lives, generally, although, so far, our favorite bull has been an Italian that lives in Phoenix…

*smiles*

It’s our preferences, but not in any way a prescription for anyone else’s cuckolding.

Read More

An Epiphany, Or How I Can Be So Fucking Dense

So, I read a piece by TheFerrett almost a month ago, Mastering Polyamorous Alert Notifications, and I thought to myself, “Hey, I should discuss this with my Pet. I think we have different alerts.”

But, I didn’t. He was out of town (and out of cell range). I was missing him, and life was hectic. I kept it up in my browser for three weeks, and kept meaning to talk it over… and then my browser windows closed, and I lost it, although I still knew it was “there” and needed discussing, it didn’t happen.

Because I’m dense.

Oh, and that’s not the only proof. Believe me. I’ll tell you more, but…

First a story.

As I wrote over 6 years ago, I was once married. And it was abusive.

Not physically. I totally could have seen that.

No, it was far more insidious. The man who claimed to love me above all others went from being a devoted and attentive partner to being a judgmental, abusive alcoholic.

But it was so slow, that the difference between the first year and the last was not noticed by me until WAY too late.

Anyway, as I have said many times, I was not good with people for most of my life. I’m still not, sometimes. And back then, it was a point of weakness that my ex could use against me.

And here is one way he did it.

When I met new people, men, women, whomever, and I told him and got excited about new potential and experiences, he would wait until something went wrong, and point out how bad I was with people, or at reading people, and make it all my fault.

If I was eager to be friends, and they didn’t follow through, it was my awkwardness. If they wanted more from me (sexually, for example), it was my fault. It was my fault I was staked by a near stranger.

So, I stopped being ans open and enthusiastic and excited. I stopped telling him when I met new people, and eventually stopped meeting many new people.

I told myself it was because of business. I was crazy busy building an empire, and it was easy to throw myself into that, and not place blame on him, where it belonged.

My boyfriend after, when i told him about meeting new people, would launch into diatribes about “I don’t trust him. I trust you, but I don’t trust him.”

So, I kept quiet.

Which bring me to denseness proof #2…

I have an amazing relationship with my Pet. From day 1.

And he has asked me over and over in plain English to tell him when I’m meeting people, and what it means.

I kept interpreting that to mean, “Tell me when something may turn into sex.”

Which is NOT what he meant at all.

Denseness proof #3

And I didn’t realize that I was hiding things.

Denseness proof #4

And I didn’t realize that it would feed his insecurities. Make him wonder what I was up to, make him guess the worst.

Because I was busy protecting myself and logic-ing it.

After all, he didn’t need to know when I just met someone for tea, right? It didn’t mean anything. It was just a chat.

Unless it turned into sex.

MORE denseness proof…

And yet, he is a cuckold. Even the insignificant (to me) tea meetings could be a source of connection to me and my world. To the jealousies he loves to experience. To the security of knowing that I am open and share everything with him.

He said he wanted to know everything.

I didn’t TRUST him.

I figured he wanted to know everything EXCEPT the uncomfortable stuff. Or the stuff that didn’t matter, in my eyes.

When he was telling me (for years, literally), everything.

I know now.

I have made that synapse connection.

It is now a policy. And I’m glad. I’m relieved, in a way. To not have to bear the burden of “when to tell?”

And even more glad that Pet took the time to allow me to understand, despite his frustration over my seemingly pinpointed idiocy.

And now…

I know I will never shy away from being 100% straightforward again. Because if a partner cannot accept me and my life, they do not belong in a position of partnership.

I should have realized that Pet was better than all of my fears and insecurities (even if I didn’t know I had them, even if I thought I was over them).

I do, now.

I may still be dense. I may still sometimes be an idiot. I will always be human.

This, however, I have overcome.

Read More

How To Turn On Her Passion For Other Men

So, have I told you that I was “turned on” to cuckolding?

I was. By my Pet, my boyfriend, my submissive… whatever he’s called in his many roles in my life, he brought cuckolding to me.

In fact, I’d heard of it only a bit before he brought it up, and I always thought it was weird.

After years in relationships with jealous men, I could just not wrap my mind around the idea that a man would want to share me, but not necessarily see other women.

And, frankly, I didn’t trust it.

Not one bit.

On the other hand, I am an open-minded person, and I’m not one to judge another by what they do or don’t get into, so I was cool with his desires, just not really sure about them.

I’ve also always believed in the benefits of poly, but had lived 20 years monogamously—and STILL was accused of flirting too much or cheating on my ex husband and BF when the relationships came to a close.

So, I just didn’t have a frame of reference for cuckolding as a viable relationship choice.

So, how did he do it?

There were a few steps:

  1. Create trust.
  2. Be consistent.
  3. Use fantasy.
  4. Remove pressure.
  5. Reinforce her femininity.

Number three is what I’m going to focus on today, since I just had a lovely time with Pet and some of his fantasy talk.

When we are touching, we almost never leave it at just that. Sex and affection include talking for us, which allows us to open our minds to further ideas and scenarios than we ever have before.

So, as he gives me a massage, or caresses me, giving me pleasure, he might start with…

“You are so amazing.
Such an amazing woman.
You deserve to be worshipped.
You deserve to be pleasured.
You deserve all the pleasure I can give you.
And more.
You deserve to be desired for these amazing curves.
You deserve to have me at your feet.
You deserve to be touched with love.
With passion.
With need.
You deserve everything good.
You deserve to enjoy what you want, and you deserve for me to get that for you.
You deserve to feel everything pleasurable.
You deserve my hands giving you pleasure.
My mouth giving you pleasure, my words giving you pleasure, my cock giving you pleasure.
You deserve pleasure.
You deserve a cock that can fuck you hard, the way you love to be fucked.
A cock that will fill you up and make you moan and cry out.
You deserve all the pleasure you can take from that feeling…”

You see how fantasy talk can be used in a non-threatening environment to create a need and desire in her?

How it is used for me, with him spinning his fantasies, but also telling me what he feels about me as a sexy woman, without a push to make it happen (items 4 and 5)?

Oh, and it has to be sincere. You have to want it FOR HER, not just for you. You should speak only the truth. Give her that.

Make her feel safe that you will speak the truth to her at all times (number 1).

That is trust. Not that you won’t ever say anything she doesn’t want to hear, but that you will always give her the truth, and still love her.

Of course, this is simplistic. A blog post/email can only take us so far.

But we discuss it in great depth in CuckoldMe! And we discuss another method, as well. The method that Kole Raymond used to bring his girlfriend around to the joy of cuckolding him.

AND we discuss the pros and cons of both, and how to use techniques from each, tailored to your relationship.

Read More

Be Careful What You Wish For!

Every cuckold or cuckold-wannabe should hear these words ringing through their heads with every decision they make, every step towards or deeper into the cuckolding lifetstyle.

Don’t get me wrong. Cuckolding can be the most amazing, surprising, intimate journey you’ve ever taken—the ultimate arousal.

It can also be a nightmare-in-progress, with lies, betrayals, hurts, jealousies…

And if you’re standing in front of the judge, and the end of your broken relationship, trying to explain exactly what happened, will you be able to step up and admit, “I wanted her to sleep with other men…”?

Do cuckolding relationships always end badly? Of course not. No more than any other relationship.

Do they always end because of the cuckolding. Nope. There are so many reasons for relationships to end, cuckolding and it’s results is just one.

However, I still say, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Why?

Because cuckolding is like playing with fire. It affects your deepest, most primal emotions when it’s working and when it’s not.

Even more, cuckolding is not “you and me.” It’s “you and me and he and he and he…” and so on. You’re adding more variables (other people) into your relationship that you have no control over, and you have to be ready.

Who am I trying to kid? There is NO WAY you can be 100% ready.

You can, though, be prepared for what MIGHT come up. For example, what will you say/do when you hear:

“I’ve never been fucked better, I’ve never had bigger, I’ve never cum that hard.”

There is no going back from that. There is no unsaying the words, unfeeling the feelings, or unringing that bell.

If you’re taken by surprise, that could be the beginning of the end.

If you’re prepared, that could be the beginning of a new beginning. A new path of exploration as a couple, together.

It’s a big step. In fact, it’s a lot of big steps. Are you ready? As ready as you can be?

As an aside, my online cuckolding class is doing well with the testers so far. *smiles*

 

P.S. The title of this post is a nod to my friend Sarah and her chastity book.

 
 

Read More

Will You Win Me?

&ldquo;Meet me at Plato&rsquo;s after work,&rdquo; I text.<br />
&ldquo;Yes, my Queen.&rdquo;<br />
You wonder why I would want to meet where the suits gather to knock a few back and possibly hook up for the evening, but you&rsquo;ve had enough experience to know that I have my reasons.<br />
It&rsquo;s crowded, noisy, and loud as you walk in a bit before seven.<br />
Making your way through the crowd, you see and smile at half a dozen people you know. You&rsquo;re stopped by an old colleague, and as you&rsquo;re chatting, you spot me at the bar.<br />
I&rsquo;m in a tailored suit, looking every inch the moderately-successful-nympho-cubicle-worker-on-the-prowl, and I have my feet trapped between another man&rsquo;s legs.<br />
&ldquo;&hellip;you know?&rdquo; Tom says.<br />
You stammer, trying to grasp what he was saying, realizing you&rsquo;ve gone completely blank.<br />
&ldquo;Yes, absolutely,&rdquo; you come out with, hoping it&rsquo;s the right response, your eyes still glued on me, watching me flirt.<br />
Tom launches into the next part of his story as your phone vibrates with an incoming text. You jump and reach for it as if your pocket was on fire, startling Tom.<br />
Seeing the text is from me, you excuse yourself from the conversation for just a moment, and read it.<br />
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re late. I was bored. And horny. I&rsquo;m going home with someone tonight. It may not be you. How will you win me?&rdquo;<br />
A million butterflies take flight in your gut as your cock releases a gush of pre-cum.<br />
And you smile.<br />
Turning, back to Tom, you renew the conversation with a will. You join the game, a hunter stalking his prey, knowing that even in the unlikely event you lose tonight, you still win.<br />
- MsNN

 

“Meet me at Plato’s after work,” I text.

“Yes, my Queen.”

You wonder why I would want to meet where the suits gather to knock a few back and possibly hook up for the evening, but you’ve had enough experience to know that I have my reasons.

It’s crowded, noisy, and loud as you walk in a bit before seven.

Making your way through the crowd, you see and smile at half a dozen people you know. You’re stopped by an old colleague, and as you’re chatting, you spot me at the bar.

I’m in a tailored suit, looking every inch the moderately-successful-nympho-cubicle-worker-on-the-prowl, and I have my feet trapped between another man’s legs.

“…you know?” Tom says.

You stammer, trying to grasp what he was saying, realizing you’ve gone completely blank.

“Yes, absolutely,” you come out with, hoping it’s the right response, your eyes still glued on me, watching me flirt.

Tom launches into the next part of his story as your phone vibrates with an incoming text. You jump and reach for it as if your pocket was on fire, startling Tom.

Seeing the text is from me, you excuse yourself from the conversation for just a moment, and read it.

“You’re late. I was bored. And horny. I’m going home with someone tonight. It may not be you. How will you win me?”

A million butterflies take flight in your gut as your cock releases a gush of precum.

And you smile.

Turning, back to Tom, you renew the conversation with a will. You join the game, a hunter stalking his prey, knowing that even in the unlikely event you lose tonight, you still win.

– MsNN

Read More

To Feel My Ownership

I stand over your kneeling form, then I bend down to examine the tile below you. You have a stream of precum falling to the tile, but I see no urine leakage.<br />
&ldquo;You are such a good boy,&rdquo; I purr into our ear, sending shudders through your body. &ldquo;It won&rsquo;t be long now.&rdquo;<br />
I stand back up and straddle your head.<br />
&ldquo;Keep holding it,&rdquo; I remind you.<br />
Then I let go of my own bladder, my hot piss splashing all over you. Hot and wet. Running over your head and shoulders and trickling down your back.<br />
It makes the need to pee fill your body like lava rises through a volcano. You know you are going to erupt soon, and there will be nothing you can do about it.<br />
You pray that you can hold out long enough.<br />
I can see you shuddering. I know how much you need this. To feel my ownership.<br />
It seems to go on forever. Me just peeing and peeing and peeing on you.<br />
Excerpt from A Golden Day, available on Amazon Kindle for 99¢.

 

I stand over your kneeling form, then I bend down to examine the tile below you. You have a stream of precum falling to the tile, but I see no urine leakage.

“You are such a good boy,” I purr into our ear, sending shudders through your body. “It won’t be long now.”

I stand back up and straddle your head.

“Keep holding it,” I remind you.

Then I let go of my own bladder, my hot piss splashing all over you. Hot and wet. Running over your head and shoulders and trickling down your back.

It makes the need to pee fill your body like lava rises through a volcano. You know you are going to erupt soon, and there will be nothing you can do about it.

You pray that you can hold out long enough.

I can see you shuddering. I know how much you need this. To feel my ownership.

It seems to go on forever. Me just peeing and peeing and peeing on you.

Excerpt from A Golden Day, available on Amazon Kindle for 99¢.

Read More

Front Position

It’s been a rushed day. We have plans with friends, and we’re just barely going to be on time, and we still have to pick up flowers for our friend. It’s her birthday.

On our way out the door, the house phone rings. You chuff a bit in annoyance, but I slip past you to answer. Only a few friends and family members have that number, and it may be an emergency.

You wait by the door, not-so-subtly reminding me of our ever-narrowing timeline.

I’m enjoying the look of frustration on your face, especially since it’s Elisa, the birthday girl, and she’s calling to push back our date time, and she’s misplaced her phone.

You don’t know that, though. I see you getting restless, upset as I chatter away.

I have pushed you to this point, and I know it, but I don’t like the attitude that is screaming from your body language. I need to nip that right in the bud.

I look directly at you until you notice. I hold your gaze until you realize what I want. Your head nods imperceptibly, and the tension visibly leaves your shoulders. I smile, and mouth, “Good boy,” as I talk.

It&rsquo;s been a rushed day. We have plans with friends, and we&rsquo;re just barely going to be on time, and we still have to pick up flowers for our friend. It&rsquo;s her birthday.<br />
On our way out the door, the house phone rings. You chuff a bit in annoyance, but I slip past you to answer. Only a few friends and family members have that number, and it may be an emergency.<br />
You wait by the door, not-so-subtly reminding me of our ever-narrowing timeline.<br />
I&rsquo;m enjoying the look of frustration on your face, especially since it&rsquo;s Elisa, the birthday girl, and she&rsquo;s calling to push back our date time, and she&rsquo;s misplaced her phone.<br />
You don&rsquo;t know that, though. I see you getting restless, upset as I chatter away.<br />
I have pushed you to this point, and I know it, but I don&rsquo;t like the attitude that is screaming from your body language. I need to nip that right in the bud.<br />
I look directly at you until you notice. I hold your gaze until you realize what I want. Your head nods imperceptibly, and the tension visibly leaves your shoulders. I smile, and mouth, &ldquo;Good boy,&rdquo; as I talk.<br />
My free hand slides down the front of my little black dress, caressing the soft tummy you love so much, smoothing over my hip, until it reaches the hem.<br />
I play with the hem of my dress for a few moments, before slowly lifting it up, centimeter by centimeter.<br />
Your eyes are riveted, following my hand. As the hem climbs up past the juncture of my thighs, I see your eyes light up at the virginal white panties I&rsquo;m wearing. My special treat for you.<br />
You take a step forward, without even thinking, and lick your lips.<br />
I finish my conversation and hang up the phone. Smiling, I motion for you to take Front Position.<br />
As you settle yourself to your knees at my feet, I gather your face into me. I know we have another hour before we have to leave, and you are beyond caring.<br />
I think this will be a very good night&hellip;<br />
- MsNN

My free hand slides down the front of my little black dress, caressing the soft tummy you love so much, smoothing over my hip, until it reaches the hem.

I play with the hem of my dress for a few moments, before slowly lifting it up, centimeter by centimeter.

Your eyes are riveted, following my hand. As the hem climbs up past the juncture of my thighs, I see your eyes light up at the virginal white panties I’m wearing. My special treat for you.

You take a step forward, without even thinking, and lick your lips.

I finish my conversation and hang up the phone. Smiling, I motion for you to take Front Position.

As you settle yourself to your knees at my feet, I gather your face into me. I know we have another hour before we have to leave, and you are beyond caring.

I think this will be a very good night…

– MsNN

Read More

Road Trip

tumblr_nevq0pm1Uk1u0o07do1_500

Driving long distance used to be so dull.

Not much to do but read, play games on my phone, or fall asleep.

Until I discovered the joys of teasing you.

Constantly.

In public and private.

Then, it was only a matter of time.

I wear clothing I can get around while speeding down the highway at 80mph. I dip my fingers into my hot, wet sex and describe how badly I want your face buried between my legs, while you try to concentrate on driving.

“Can you smell my need for you?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Is my cock stirring?”

“Oh, yes, my Queen.”

“Mmmm. Do you want a taste?”

“Please, my Queen.”

I slide my fingers along my lips, gently slipping them in, rocking my hips against my hand as my breath quickens.

I’m splayed in my seat, leaning back, as I bring myself to orgasm, moaning softly then crying out, coating my fingers with my pleasure.

I sit up and lean over. I wipe my scent on your face, covering your mouth and chin before I push my fingers between your eager lips.

– MsNN

Read More