Connie had a lot to show me today, it seems (including Veidtbone)
It really is amazing how much one's moods can change during a wank. Chemically speaking, I've had a more stable day than usual (adequate sleep, no stomach upsets, no other weirdnesses, adequate meds, some happiness from a friend, ability to concentrate enough to write--these rarely come together), so that meant I could have a long and profound and emotional session.
But. I went through so many different styles and types of wank (emotionally and pairing-wise and stimulation-wise) that it was strange. It's by no means bad, but it's a pretty... amazing and wondrous thing, and sometimes annoying, seeing as all my fics come from wank fantasies and if the characters suddenly change, then that interrupts the story. Often when I switch from external stimulation to the internal sort, the whole mood changes anyway. I have to have a long session of stimulation at the start with a clit buzzer and/or my massage wand to even be soft and hot and relaxed enough for penetration with my favourite dildo (I can't just slap lube on and wallop it in because it'll hurt unless the tissues are ready), and that's usually when the longer visions and actual proper fantasies come. Simply because the warm-up stage takes the longest, up to 45 minutes sometimes. So that's where the story and the seduction happen; when I move to penetration, it's usually just visions of very simple fucking (albeit often emotional) and then the orgasm comes. That part usually consists of three sessions of taking myself on my back, dildo-in-vagina, and turning around at the end of each round to ride my hands and my dildo in order to come (it's hard for me to come on my back and it's not as satisfying; when I use my full weight to ram my most sensitive bits against the ridges of the toy, that's the only proper 'full' orgasm for me.) And I have to do it three times to feel like all the pent-up energy has been released; if it's anything less than that, my pelvis still aches (and often it aches even after the three, like it does now, but I didn't have the physical energy to go on longer and I'm also bleeding, and going on further would've risked any random spatters of blood going through the towels I had protected my bed with). And these sessions don't last long--the whole three-fuck session can often be over in just ten minutes or so (I only know the lengths of these things because so often the wank takes place around lunchtime, and it's a pain in the arse when I have to do something else that day because sometimes this means I have to rush it. And that means having to look at the time on my phone. And ok, I look at the phone because I often stop and type down the best parts, because I forget them otherwise.)
The only problem is finding the right fantasy that gets me going and the sort I can stick with--this depends so much on my mood and my hormones and what I've eaten and everything else that it's impossible to predict until I lie down. I might be aroused by porn I saw online, or a specific Connie character, or a hot fic, but then I lie down and start touching myself and it's something *entirely* different that shows up. I lie down in order to meditate what my next Jaffar/Princess story will be--calling him to show me what the next love-play he wants me to share with the world is--and then I end up with fucking Torsten or Strasser, gangbanged by grunts, blurging for piss! *sigh* Today wasn't one of those difficult days where I had to flick through several different fantasies to see what would work, but I still went through a few, like browsing a selection of different videos in my head. (FFF, you'll be amused to know that at one point, I saw Jaffar seducing you as his slave girl, but that didn't last--it was very tender and romantic and he was nomming you and you were sighing happily and in tears. But I don't really fap to people I know, so that didn't work out. Hope he comes to you in a dream to finish what he started.) And Torsten showed up for a bit, even if he wasn't the one that really got me going, but the image was so hot I stopped and typed it down on my phone, planning to send it to FFF or post it on Tumblr or both:
Imagine Torsten lying on his back, bent double and playing with his arse with both hands. Just such long play that he's dripping all over, making his corset and stockings sticky. But mostly? His cock dripping so much that he's managed to slick his arsehole, his whole cleft with it *like a pussy.* And then him holding his arsehole open with one finger from each side, glistening, sticky, and him crooning in the soft, breathy, sugary voice of a porn star: "I'm so wet!"
X____x
Yep. In the corniest possible voice, he continues. "You've made me so wet thinking about you," he croons and sucks his fingers, then brings them back to his hole to play. "So, so wet..." And he stretches himself to a gape and groans so hard, his head falling back onto the bed, his cock pulsing more precome onto his corseted belly.
So, you know. That sort of thing.
And yes, that's just warm-up for me, GDI. But this probably tells you why I'm so prolific with the fic; on the good days, these images just come from all over.
But then I got lost in a long, beautiful, tender Jaffar/Princess wedding night thing--he'd bought her at the slave market, freed her and married her. He knew she was scared of him, but he was really sweet and lovely to her--it was very simple and mostly to do with him just helping her be at ease. I'll see if I can write it down as a story, so I won't go into too much detail here so I won't waste the oomph.
And then, during the penetrative sex, I stayed in the Jaffar/Princess mood, a tender and tearful mood (I've been so on edge emotionally recently, so it was a deep and romantic and tender vision that worked for me best), but then the bastarding thing went into Connie/Baz AGAIN! I don't know if it's to do with the order in which I take my medications during the day--long story, but my current configuration somehow seems to lead to more slash and Connie/Baz. It's been a real staple in my wanking for about a full year now, and often they swap places. This time, it started with Connie on the bottom, and I just keep always thinking of what a vocal and encouraging and deliciously filthy lover he must've been to his men. That he'd say just the right dirty things at the right time, really show how much he was enjoying being fucked, and then just when Baz is all wibbly, he grabs his cock and groans something simple like "feels so good when you fuck me like that" and Baz is just *gone.* Because he says it in the wickedest, most relishing of voices that's playful and also caring. And often there are wibbly moments of "I love you"s that shouldn't have been said and some tears, but Connie--and it's always Connie--leads Baz through them to the other side.
This time, after my first round had ended and I'd had my first proper orgasm, I sunk deeper and it was Connie teaching Baz how to enjoy anal sex. As was common at the time, sex was brief and full of guilt for queer guys, and often gay sex didn't involve anal sex at all. And if it did, knowledge of lubrication wasn't all that great and lube wasn't necessarily easily available if the sex was spontaneous--and often the guy on top would be coming on a bit too hard and end up hurting the guy on the bottom because he was just so eager to keep on doing what felt good, sadly not unlike it is with heterosexual relations. So Baz had just had uncomfortable and/or traumatic experiences (also a classic Veidtbone trope in my head), and Connie helped him enjoy the whole thing. They'd been shagging for a while and Connie'd been happily bottoming, the tart he was, but once they'd developed enough trust and experimented, Connie seduced Baz instead. So there was so much wide-eyed "OH MY GOD!"ing with a posh accent and many many honks through a magnificent conk. And looks of marvel and heartbreak as Connie moved into him slowly and made him come at least twice.
And then, for some reason, I saw another Connie/Baz thing where Connie seduced Baz into fucking him for the first time, and in it, Baz hadn't fucked anyone up the arse before, and it was very lovely, too. In that Baz was really neurotic and worried about hurting Connie, worried about getting dirty (but because Connie was Connie, he said he'd rinsed because he'd been hoping to get lucky, and even tried to remember what a "klyster" was in English). Germans were CRAZY about enemas back then anyway, for all kinds of medical reasons, so that's not unfeasible (note how I think of feasibility even during wank fantasies? The fanfic writer in my head never switches herself off). And it was wonderful when Baz realised how tight it felt and how hot it felt on the inside, and how silky in comparison to a vagina--all these wonderful and tender things I love about everything anal. And this absolutely wonderful moment was when he was finally inside of Connie properly, deep enough not to slip out, and Connie just asked him to lie on top of him, just rest there. And Baz was a little awkward as he lowered himself down, and wanted to keep thrusting, because it felt so good, but he humoured Connie. And it was surprisingly tender for him, too--it was pretty emotional for both of them, and Connie just held him. This sort of strangely virginal wedding-night-ish moment, too--back to the mood I'd started in with Jaffar/Princess. One doing it for the first time and going "oh my GOD" and then the other one just holding them. And Connie hugged him and wrapped his legs around him and sighed happily, and kissed his neck, and let Baz just feel everything--his body, and how good he felt on the inside, that pulse, that heat. And he kissed Baz's neck and then finally managed to kiss his mouth, and smiled in this beautiful way and said "Go on, then. Move." And in the air there was the phrase "fuck me like the faggots we are," or, well, that emotion, whatever words you'd want to put it in.
And Baz did, and the way Connie responded, the way his face moved and changed, and the way he first came--completely without touching himself--just had Baz in awe. As did the fact that Connie just laughed about that, too, and brought his hand to his cock and said that ok, he's going to warn him now--he can keep on going like a woman when he's on the bottom. That he can go on all night, just as insatiable. And Baz just went OMFG at that, in this mixture of dread and delight, and of course, kept going. More than once himself--when he'd come for the first time, soon after Connie, Connie just went all "oh, no, you don't" and wrapped his leg around him and stroked himself and hissed through his teeth, grinning, and went "go on... you know how to do it with a woman, don't you? Push past it, push past it, there you go, there you go... keep going." And I'm not sure if Baz did, in fact, know of actual *techniques* to push himself past the refractory period (in my brain, Connie knows ALL ABOUT THESE THINGS and multiple prostate orgasms and whatnot because he's Connie), and had probably only ever done it spontaneously when he'd been massively in love with the woman, but of course, he managed it with Connie. Connie basically just dragged him into it with himself, basically just gave him no choice but to continue (because he's Connie and an outrageous bastard like that).
And then I came for the third time and my brain melted. But there was so much tenderness in there, and the hottest things were Connie's noises and words. And the way he'd look up at Baz--both their eyes even bluer when they started to tear up, the reddening eyes making the blue even shinier. And Connie was just so delighted and happy and the noises of pleasure he made were *ridiculous* in their abandon and joy, and that was the hottest fucking thing ever. Like it generally is with people who know how to enjoy sex, and who really throw themselves into it, but also who share it with the other with wicked grins and leers. Oh, but that's just so fucking hot to me you don't even know. And Connie always had that sharing aspect to his seduction--he gives me this idea that it wasn't just him taking his pleasure of his lovers, but involved them in the play, too, and *really* get off on seeing their reactions, really communicated with them and that was the greatest pleasure for him. Even his acting techniques show how much he got off on getting a reaction--ok, well, actors love that in general, but he always performed so hypersexually that it seems impossible it wouldn't have extended into his love life as well. I mean, we're talking Mr. "Lett mee help you komm zu termz vith your sexzualität--OFF TO ALL ZE GAY BARZ IN BEWLIN" here, so I can just imagine him seriously getting off on showing the ropes to all his repressed British and American lovers. It's crazy how often that's a slash fiction trope, but HE WAS ACTUALLY LIKE THAT IRL and I'm still trying to get my head around that, TBH.
Anyway, the little noises he made and the croons and the "fuck me"s and "fuck my arse with your cock, yeah"s were just hfdlsakhflakshflhslfk because bastard was great at it. And now I've got to somehow go and write the damn Jaffar/Pwinzezz thing before it leaves my head. I don't even want to go and check how many words this post has, because FFS, that's a fucking novel, but it was just a really good wank and needed to be recorded for the coming generations.
But. I went through so many different styles and types of wank (emotionally and pairing-wise and stimulation-wise) that it was strange. It's by no means bad, but it's a pretty... amazing and wondrous thing, and sometimes annoying, seeing as all my fics come from wank fantasies and if the characters suddenly change, then that interrupts the story. Often when I switch from external stimulation to the internal sort, the whole mood changes anyway. I have to have a long session of stimulation at the start with a clit buzzer and/or my massage wand to even be soft and hot and relaxed enough for penetration with my favourite dildo (I can't just slap lube on and wallop it in because it'll hurt unless the tissues are ready), and that's usually when the longer visions and actual proper fantasies come. Simply because the warm-up stage takes the longest, up to 45 minutes sometimes. So that's where the story and the seduction happen; when I move to penetration, it's usually just visions of very simple fucking (albeit often emotional) and then the orgasm comes. That part usually consists of three sessions of taking myself on my back, dildo-in-vagina, and turning around at the end of each round to ride my hands and my dildo in order to come (it's hard for me to come on my back and it's not as satisfying; when I use my full weight to ram my most sensitive bits against the ridges of the toy, that's the only proper 'full' orgasm for me.) And I have to do it three times to feel like all the pent-up energy has been released; if it's anything less than that, my pelvis still aches (and often it aches even after the three, like it does now, but I didn't have the physical energy to go on longer and I'm also bleeding, and going on further would've risked any random spatters of blood going through the towels I had protected my bed with). And these sessions don't last long--the whole three-fuck session can often be over in just ten minutes or so (I only know the lengths of these things because so often the wank takes place around lunchtime, and it's a pain in the arse when I have to do something else that day because sometimes this means I have to rush it. And that means having to look at the time on my phone. And ok, I look at the phone because I often stop and type down the best parts, because I forget them otherwise.)
The only problem is finding the right fantasy that gets me going and the sort I can stick with--this depends so much on my mood and my hormones and what I've eaten and everything else that it's impossible to predict until I lie down. I might be aroused by porn I saw online, or a specific Connie character, or a hot fic, but then I lie down and start touching myself and it's something *entirely* different that shows up. I lie down in order to meditate what my next Jaffar/Princess story will be--calling him to show me what the next love-play he wants me to share with the world is--and then I end up with fucking Torsten or Strasser, gangbanged by grunts, blurging for piss! *sigh* Today wasn't one of those difficult days where I had to flick through several different fantasies to see what would work, but I still went through a few, like browsing a selection of different videos in my head. (FFF, you'll be amused to know that at one point, I saw Jaffar seducing you as his slave girl, but that didn't last--it was very tender and romantic and he was nomming you and you were sighing happily and in tears. But I don't really fap to people I know, so that didn't work out. Hope he comes to you in a dream to finish what he started.) And Torsten showed up for a bit, even if he wasn't the one that really got me going, but the image was so hot I stopped and typed it down on my phone, planning to send it to FFF or post it on Tumblr or both:
Imagine Torsten lying on his back, bent double and playing with his arse with both hands. Just such long play that he's dripping all over, making his corset and stockings sticky. But mostly? His cock dripping so much that he's managed to slick his arsehole, his whole cleft with it *like a pussy.* And then him holding his arsehole open with one finger from each side, glistening, sticky, and him crooning in the soft, breathy, sugary voice of a porn star: "I'm so wet!"
X____x
Yep. In the corniest possible voice, he continues. "You've made me so wet thinking about you," he croons and sucks his fingers, then brings them back to his hole to play. "So, so wet..." And he stretches himself to a gape and groans so hard, his head falling back onto the bed, his cock pulsing more precome onto his corseted belly.
So, you know. That sort of thing.
And yes, that's just warm-up for me, GDI. But this probably tells you why I'm so prolific with the fic; on the good days, these images just come from all over.
But then I got lost in a long, beautiful, tender Jaffar/Princess wedding night thing--he'd bought her at the slave market, freed her and married her. He knew she was scared of him, but he was really sweet and lovely to her--it was very simple and mostly to do with him just helping her be at ease. I'll see if I can write it down as a story, so I won't go into too much detail here so I won't waste the oomph.
And then, during the penetrative sex, I stayed in the Jaffar/Princess mood, a tender and tearful mood (I've been so on edge emotionally recently, so it was a deep and romantic and tender vision that worked for me best), but then the bastarding thing went into Connie/Baz AGAIN! I don't know if it's to do with the order in which I take my medications during the day--long story, but my current configuration somehow seems to lead to more slash and Connie/Baz. It's been a real staple in my wanking for about a full year now, and often they swap places. This time, it started with Connie on the bottom, and I just keep always thinking of what a vocal and encouraging and deliciously filthy lover he must've been to his men. That he'd say just the right dirty things at the right time, really show how much he was enjoying being fucked, and then just when Baz is all wibbly, he grabs his cock and groans something simple like "feels so good when you fuck me like that" and Baz is just *gone.* Because he says it in the wickedest, most relishing of voices that's playful and also caring. And often there are wibbly moments of "I love you"s that shouldn't have been said and some tears, but Connie--and it's always Connie--leads Baz through them to the other side.
This time, after my first round had ended and I'd had my first proper orgasm, I sunk deeper and it was Connie teaching Baz how to enjoy anal sex. As was common at the time, sex was brief and full of guilt for queer guys, and often gay sex didn't involve anal sex at all. And if it did, knowledge of lubrication wasn't all that great and lube wasn't necessarily easily available if the sex was spontaneous--and often the guy on top would be coming on a bit too hard and end up hurting the guy on the bottom because he was just so eager to keep on doing what felt good, sadly not unlike it is with heterosexual relations. So Baz had just had uncomfortable and/or traumatic experiences (also a classic Veidtbone trope in my head), and Connie helped him enjoy the whole thing. They'd been shagging for a while and Connie'd been happily bottoming, the tart he was, but once they'd developed enough trust and experimented, Connie seduced Baz instead. So there was so much wide-eyed "OH MY GOD!"ing with a posh accent and many many honks through a magnificent conk. And looks of marvel and heartbreak as Connie moved into him slowly and made him come at least twice.
And then, for some reason, I saw another Connie/Baz thing where Connie seduced Baz into fucking him for the first time, and in it, Baz hadn't fucked anyone up the arse before, and it was very lovely, too. In that Baz was really neurotic and worried about hurting Connie, worried about getting dirty (but because Connie was Connie, he said he'd rinsed because he'd been hoping to get lucky, and even tried to remember what a "klyster" was in English). Germans were CRAZY about enemas back then anyway, for all kinds of medical reasons, so that's not unfeasible (note how I think of feasibility even during wank fantasies? The fanfic writer in my head never switches herself off). And it was wonderful when Baz realised how tight it felt and how hot it felt on the inside, and how silky in comparison to a vagina--all these wonderful and tender things I love about everything anal. And this absolutely wonderful moment was when he was finally inside of Connie properly, deep enough not to slip out, and Connie just asked him to lie on top of him, just rest there. And Baz was a little awkward as he lowered himself down, and wanted to keep thrusting, because it felt so good, but he humoured Connie. And it was surprisingly tender for him, too--it was pretty emotional for both of them, and Connie just held him. This sort of strangely virginal wedding-night-ish moment, too--back to the mood I'd started in with Jaffar/Princess. One doing it for the first time and going "oh my GOD" and then the other one just holding them. And Connie hugged him and wrapped his legs around him and sighed happily, and kissed his neck, and let Baz just feel everything--his body, and how good he felt on the inside, that pulse, that heat. And he kissed Baz's neck and then finally managed to kiss his mouth, and smiled in this beautiful way and said "Go on, then. Move." And in the air there was the phrase "fuck me like the faggots we are," or, well, that emotion, whatever words you'd want to put it in.
And Baz did, and the way Connie responded, the way his face moved and changed, and the way he first came--completely without touching himself--just had Baz in awe. As did the fact that Connie just laughed about that, too, and brought his hand to his cock and said that ok, he's going to warn him now--he can keep on going like a woman when he's on the bottom. That he can go on all night, just as insatiable. And Baz just went OMFG at that, in this mixture of dread and delight, and of course, kept going. More than once himself--when he'd come for the first time, soon after Connie, Connie just went all "oh, no, you don't" and wrapped his leg around him and stroked himself and hissed through his teeth, grinning, and went "go on... you know how to do it with a woman, don't you? Push past it, push past it, there you go, there you go... keep going." And I'm not sure if Baz did, in fact, know of actual *techniques* to push himself past the refractory period (in my brain, Connie knows ALL ABOUT THESE THINGS and multiple prostate orgasms and whatnot because he's Connie), and had probably only ever done it spontaneously when he'd been massively in love with the woman, but of course, he managed it with Connie. Connie basically just dragged him into it with himself, basically just gave him no choice but to continue (because he's Connie and an outrageous bastard like that).
And then I came for the third time and my brain melted. But there was so much tenderness in there, and the hottest things were Connie's noises and words. And the way he'd look up at Baz--both their eyes even bluer when they started to tear up, the reddening eyes making the blue even shinier. And Connie was just so delighted and happy and the noises of pleasure he made were *ridiculous* in their abandon and joy, and that was the hottest fucking thing ever. Like it generally is with people who know how to enjoy sex, and who really throw themselves into it, but also who share it with the other with wicked grins and leers. Oh, but that's just so fucking hot to me you don't even know. And Connie always had that sharing aspect to his seduction--he gives me this idea that it wasn't just him taking his pleasure of his lovers, but involved them in the play, too, and *really* get off on seeing their reactions, really communicated with them and that was the greatest pleasure for him. Even his acting techniques show how much he got off on getting a reaction--ok, well, actors love that in general, but he always performed so hypersexually that it seems impossible it wouldn't have extended into his love life as well. I mean, we're talking Mr. "Lett mee help you komm zu termz vith your sexzualität--OFF TO ALL ZE GAY BARZ IN BEWLIN" here, so I can just imagine him seriously getting off on showing the ropes to all his repressed British and American lovers. It's crazy how often that's a slash fiction trope, but HE WAS ACTUALLY LIKE THAT IRL and I'm still trying to get my head around that, TBH.
Anyway, the little noises he made and the croons and the "fuck me"s and "fuck my arse with your cock, yeah"s were just hfdlsakhflakshflhslfk because bastard was great at it. And now I've got to somehow go and write the damn Jaffar/Pwinzezz thing before it leaves my head. I don't even want to go and check how many words this post has, because FFS, that's a fucking novel, but it was just a really good wank and needed to be recorded for the coming generations.