When I arrived, my lover greeted me with shrimp scampi and chardonnay and a long flat gift box full of lingerie–my reward for coming home to him.  It is a La Perla Black lace vision bustier and garter belt and sheer black thigh-high stockings.  It is mostly transparent and filmy and fits me perfectly — meaning the cup size is a bit small and so my breasts almost spill over the top

I am wearing it right now and I must say that I feel incredibly feminine in it.  I love the fabrics–the chantilly lace and the silk are so luxurious, and the sheer chiffon barely skims my belly when I move–making me hyper-aware of my skin. The panties are tiny and made of barely-there transparent black fabric. I wonder how many pantyboys would love to try to fit them over their bulging cocks as they stroke and stroke and stroke. I am thinking about how some of my sissies out there would absolutely ache to be able to wear something like this and look as hot as I do.

As soon as my lover saw me in this outfit he scooped me up and carried me off to the bedroom, which is why I’m in such a good mood. I’m sure all the cuckold fetishists out there would have loved to have been present for the action. My lover is hung like a bull moose and even now, hours after our last fuck, I can still feel where his cock rammed so deeply into me–so deeply that his cum is only just now starting to work its way out of me. And you know what that means, don’t you?  Some lucky bastard gets clean up duty.  It could be you, if you call soon

Me being me, and him being who he is, my lover, whom I will call Simon, and I arrived at an agreement.  He would be my primary partner and I would not have any other lovers that I saw regularly, nor would I take any new lovers in the forseeable future. However, I was free to see and play with prior partners / exes if I so desired.  This weekend, we put that agreement to the test.

I’ve a friend about 10 years older than myself, someone who is an airline pilot who used to fly for the navy. He’s also been an occasional lover since I was 18. He had a layover at the airport nearby and we spent Friday night and most of Saturday together. Simon and I talked. Emotionally, me seeing other people  was a different situation for him than previously, before I’d moved in. We talked about how the Dom in him wanted to hike his leg and piss on me and then rip my pilot-friend’s throat out. The cuckold scenario didn’t do anything for him. Something in him looks at me and thinks “MINE!” But I told him that regardless of what happened with my old lover, I was coming back to him, and that was what mattered. We fell into bed and had ferocious sex that involved sensual domination, the two of us switching who was Top, vying for dominance like wrestlers in a tournament.

Then I showered and cleaned myself up. I dressed carefully in a little black dress and high heels. Under it I wore a bustier and stockings. And armed with a handful of condoms and a dufflebag full of toys, I left with Simon’s blessing.

Read the continuation of this story here.

My primary partner is a real man who is hung like the aforementioned bull-moose. And therein lies the problem. My mouth just isn’t big enough. In fact, he has yet to meet a woman whose mouth is big enough to fit him comfortably enough to give him a real blow job.  Its rather sad, actually. Before we became lovers he once told me that  he never really cared much for oral sex. I thought it was because he’d never come across a woman who was an adequate fellatrix. After six months of living together, he says he actually enjoys my efforts, but I’m not satisfied.  I can just get the head of his cock into my mouth and that is a real stretch. The man deserves a real cocksucking, and I’m determined that he will get one. And since every woman he’s known has wanted to get her mouth on him but never been able to take his big fatty all the way to the root, I’m thinking we need to start looking for submissive cock-worshipping males to do the job.

How many of you boys and sissies out there have experience sucking a cock that is 7.5″ in circumference? I’m wondering how many of you submissive men out there I could force into sucking cock.  A real cock, you know, the kind you dream of having. The kind of cock you closet cuckolds dream of watching in action plundering pussies, asses, and mouths.

Any volunteers for the role of cocksucker can call me, Empress Pamela, at 1-800-601-6975. I’ll make you audition on my strap-on, first.

It was the Bay to Breakers Marathon this weekend, and I had friends visiting to participate in the run with me. One of them was an old lover from college, whom I will call Dominic. This old friend is East Coast Italian. He is lean, dark, and dangerous-looking. In fact, he’s been told he could play Vampire Lestat much more credibly than Tom Cruise did. He oozes the kind of sensuality that men and woman alike swoon over, which is fun to watch in San Francisco. He also has a submissive streak that rarely ever surfaces, but always around me.  Which is probably why I rarely see him anymore–his Italian machismo finds it too unnerving

I’ve always encouraged my lovers, male and female, to talk about their fantasies, encouraging them to share even the deep, dark ones that they don’t really want to experience, but which have a powerful hold on them anyway. Five years ago, when we were 20, Dominic shared his.

We were having a post orgasmic nap one afternoon when he woke up with a jolt. He was shivering and had a panicky expression on his face, but his cock was rock hard. It was obvious he’d had a dream and I asked him what it was.  He said it was a recurring dream that he didn’t want to talk about. I told him if it was a recurring dream, maybe it would help him to talk about it–that maybe talking about it in the light of day would lessen the dream’s disturbing power. He said no and I left it at that, spooning up behind him. I was just starting to doze back off when he started talking.

In his dreams, he said, there was a woman who had him in her power, and forced him to do things. He said that she forced him to have breast implants and then turned him into a she-male cum dumpster. He shook as he told me this. I asked him questions, and he answered, and I eventually noticed that he was touching himself as we lay spooned together. I dipped a hand between my own legs and collected our juices on my fingers, then ran them along the cleft of his ass. I asked him more questions and he talked about this fantasy-dream in a reluctant whisper, and as he did so, he stroked his cock faster and I pressed my finger inside him. He opened up fairly easily as I’d fingered him many times before, only this time I whispered humiliating things into his ear and held him tightly with my other arm. He ate it up, my little Nicky did, and came harder and louder than I’d ever heard him cum before.

Our relationship changed after that, mainly in that he let me use my strap-on during sex — something he’d flatly refused to allow me near him with.  I had a lot of fun with him over the next few months, and then Spring Term ended and we went our separate ways for the summer. Well most of it.  His dreams came back and he begged me to meet him at his parent’s cabin in Vermont. Which I did. And what happened that weekend both cured him of his recurring dream and cemented his submission to me — so much so that 5 years later, he still gets a slight tremor when he’s around me. Which amused me terribly this weekend.

I’ve been practicing belly-dancing for three years. I know how to shimmy, how to move my body to accentuate my breasts. I gave a little shimmy, almost a shiver, that made my breasts bounce.  He looked my way for a long moment. So did a few others. I smiled at my dinner companion and told him what was going on.  He grinned at me, reached out and tugged on a lock of hair dangling over my collarbone.  He dropped his and and trailed his fingers along the line of my bikini top. I observed the Japanese man from under my lashes. He was most intent.

As a purveyor of  ‘adult content’ I know about most kinks and fetishes, and I know what voyeurs Japanese men tend to be.  Which works great for me, because I have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and seeing as we were in Waikiki, some 3,000 miles from home, my lover seemed unconcerned about my exhibitionism and proclivity for three-ways and cuckoldry getting him ‘caught’ in an awkward position that might affect him professionally.

“Do you want to make someone’s year?” I asked my lover.

“What do you have in mind?” He asked, pursing his lips a little. His eyes, dark as my own, sparkled with mischief. I wanted to grab him by the chin and kiss his mouth, hard.

“If you manage to catch our friend over there away from his boys, perhaps you could invite him to join us tonite–as an observer.”

At this, my lover grinned. I saw his face change a bit as he mulled over how he would put it to the gentleman in question.  His Japanese, though much better than mine, is far from fluent.

We finished our meal of seared ahi and macadamia encrusted mahi mahi and were sipping a nice wine when the boys at the nearby table stood up and walked away. I watched them head down the stairs toward the outdoors.  The older Japanese man stood, too, and headed out of the restaurant, back toward the hotel.

I nodded at my lover, and he stood and followed the Japanese man. I slowly finished my glass of wine and paid the bill, then headed toward the elevators.  A tingle ran down my spine, making my skin feel like an electric current was running over it. I do so love being a cocktease, an exhibitionist, and a domme, and I was every excited by the prospect of being all three at once.

Provided the two of them were awaiting me in my hotel room, of course.

If you want to know what happened next, I guess you’ll have to call and ask.

Empress Pamela
800-601-6975
YIM: Empress.Pamela
Email: Empress.Pamela@yahoo.com