Historically, I've had problems with expectations. I get excited about something, create grand sweeping expectations, and inevitably feel frustrated when the reality cannot come close to the fantasy I've envisioned. For the first time in my life, I had an experience that was even better in practice than what I had imagined in my brain. Seriously. We used 11 condoms in 24 hours. That's a personal record. We spent the entire weekend doing nothing but finding the answers to this question:
What would bring you the most pleasure in this moment?
Do you have the hotel sex fantasy? Like most fantasy tropes, there's a lot of variety - some prefer to imagine the cheap motel with stained carpets (so tawdry!) and others prefer the luxury of a hotel suite. Being a Taurus, I tend toward the latter. I've had a recurring fantasy about hotel sex that involves repeated sexual encounters, taking baths together, watching the sunset, and ordering room service so we don't even have to leave the room to eat. It would be terribly romantic, connected, passionate, lustful, and intense. As I became more of a sex geek, that fantasy expanded to include using high quality sex toys, multiple varieties of lube, and plenty of safer sex supplies.
As most of you know, I was on the East Coast for 3.5 weeks in November. Before I left I was able to schedule an afternoon with my lover B (you've read about him before, here and here). He was committed to making sure I was good and fucked before I left, and suggested I should be welcomed back to California with equal vigor. I remember saying something to the effect of, "so, how would you feel about renting a room by the beach and not leaving it for 24 hours while we have ridiculous sex?" He was a "fuck yes." I left the specific location up to him and he found a gorgeous resort in Huntington Beach. We booked the room two days into my East Coast trip and it was lovely to have something to look forward to throughout the trip.
In the week leading up to our trip, B and I were texting back and forth, sharing our excitement, coordinating our packing lists, and joking about the need for extra stretching in anticipation of our marathon sex weekend. I packed the night before - my large toy bag, featuring a curated collection my favorite toys and lubes, a hot pink bra and panty set, fuck-me heels, and a bikini to wear to the beach. The proportion of sex toys to clothing was about 8:1 - just the way I like it.
Finally, the day arrived. Saturday December 12, a day that would go down in my sexual history hall of fame. We chose Huntington Beach because it's close to midway between our two cities--LA and San Diego. We met a little after 1pm for a quick bite to eat, then headed over to the resort. Check in wasn't until 4pm, but we figured it was worth asking if the room happened to be ready. To my utter delight, it was. Score! We checked in a little after 2pm, almost two hours early. The room was breathtaking. A huge balcony overlooked the courtyard and had a fantastic view of the ocean.
Suddenly, after almost a month of anticipation, there we were. He kissed me, deeply, then told me to take off my clothes and get on the bed (have I mentioned that I love it when he tells me what to do?). He knelt between my legs and ran his hands over my thighs. I felt his tongue part my lips and I exhaled in grateful bliss. I reached over to grab a pillow and pressed it over my face to muffle the moans. Holy fuck ya'll. B has many talents, but when it comes to eating pussy, he is an artist. Keen attention to detail, boundless enthusiasm, and an uncanny ability to make his entire mouth vibrate. I'm getting wet again just thinking about it.
After I was good and satisfied, we swapped positions. Remember how much I love his cock? I fucking adore it. I want it in me all the time. In my mouth, in my hands, inside of me. All the time. I pulled out my favorite hand job cream, Wicked Creme, and warmed it up in my hands before I set to stroking him. I found new and interesting hand job techniques that I plan to incorporate into my workshops (because #sexgeek). There's one move that makes him completely lose control. I like to throw it in for a few seconds every couple minutes just to watch his eyes roll back and his fingers grip the bed. It's such a turn on.
I pressed my body against him and started to fuck him with my energetic cock. If you're not into the whole tantra/energy thing, I get it. I was a skeptic too. But holy hell. If there's nothing to it, why do I feel so incredible when I hold him close and thrust my pelvis against his (without any physical penetration). It's like the essence of me was encapsulated in a rod of energy that I could share with him, intensely, pushing through the barriers of old wounds and the walls that we build around our hearts. It was powerful, and I felt waves of pleasure flowing through my body as I connected with him in that moment. It felt like we were floating. Pretty soon it was time for a break.
This seems like a good time to mention exactly how prepared B was for this weekend. He thought of EVERYTHING. A case of water, ginger ale and saltines (because I'm prone to motion sickness), toys, multiple bottles of lube, a fuck ton of condoms, sensation implements (scratchy glove, feathery poof, leather flogger), a light that projected blue-green swirls on the ceiling, a scented candle, lavender infused massage oil, the list seriously goes on and on. He was so prepared I was actually shocked speechless. I felt so cared for, so considered. He knew me well enough to anticipate my every possible need. I can't even adequately explain how special that made me feel.
We went outside to watch the sunset. It was breathtaking. Seriously, check it out:
It looks like a postcard! We were curled up together under a blanket (why get dressed?) and we sat there listening to the waves crash on the shore. We talked about our respective dreams for the future, our passions, and our challenges. Something I appreciate about B is his willingness to meet me exactly where I am and hold space for me there. I strive to do the same for him. After a reasonable amount of sunset gazing, we headed back inside.
Let's talk for a minute about the epic striptease I did for him to Hozier's Take Me to Church. It was the only time the whole weekend I put on clothes. Here it is so you can listen to it while you read the rest.
Remember the pink lingerie and fuck me heels? I sat B down on a chair and put a blindfold on him (Mad Toto's blindfold is wonderful!) I dressed in my lingerie, the heels, and put my black dress on top of it. As the first chords rang out, I pulled off the blindfold and began swaying to the music. I channeled every ounce of lust and desire into my movements. Just the feeling of his eyes on my body as I slowly, deliberately removed my clothes was enough to send me over the edge. I straddled him and pressed my pelvis against his rock hard cock. I spun around and bent over him as I started to grind my ass against his thighs. I found one of the silk ties from earlier and trailed it across my skin as I stood before him, naked except for my heels. With hunger in his eyes, he led me to the bed and reached for a condom. "I need to be inside you," he hissed in my ear. Oh Gods yes please.
I turned and faced him and looked into his eyes. "You can have me any way you want. How do you want me?" I said, licking my lips. "What would bring you the most pleasure imaginable?" His lower lip bite told me that my sultry suggestions were landing...hard. He asked me to lie face down with my ass in the air. The hotel room had a double mirrored closet next to the bed, so I watched with glee as he ran his hands over my ass, fingered my pussy as he applied more lube, and slid his cock into me. He grabbed my hips for leverage as he pounded me. I felt my face get flushed and tingly as I swiveled my hips to meet every thrust. He caught me watching us in the mirror and grinned. I couldn't help it - we looked so fucking hot together.
Forty or so minutes later, we collapsed into a sweaty heap on top of one another. "How do you feel about trying out that big bathtub?" I asked. He nodded eagerly and grabbed a candle to set on the edge of the tub for mood lighting. We filled the tub and eased ourselves in. It was the perfect size for the two of us. I reached down for a washcloth and soaked it in the hot water and pressed it gently against his shoulder. I soaked it again and again, running the water all over his body. We had Spotify playing with our co-created sex weekend playlist. As 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps started to play, I began to stretch my body and writhe along with the music. It was euphoric. The hot water surrounding me, the nostalgia from the music, the feeling of his body next to mine and his eyes on me...FUCK.
We got out of the tub, dried off, probably had sex one or two more times, then fell asleep. I sleep well when I'm with him. I woke up before he did and went outside to watch the sunrise. Then I remembered that the West Coast is not ideal for watching the sunrise, and I went back to bed. We were spooning (me as the little spoon) and I decided I was feeling frisky. Quel surprise. I pressed my ass right up against his cock and just started clenching and releasing my ass muscles. It was just enough to get him hard while he was still asleep. As soon as I felt him stiffen, I started grinding back into him. That woke him up. I already had a condom ready to go so I rolled him on his back and got on top of him. I used to only like being on top when I was with a partner who wasn't good. B has blown that out of the water. I love sitting on top of his cock, taking him deep inside of me and clenching my PC muscles around him, watching his brain explode as I do it. It's so fun to show off with someone who truly appreciates it.
About an hour later, we were again collapsed in a sweaty heap. "Breakfast?" I suggested. "Room service," he replied. "I don't want to have to get out of this bed." I agreed. Then I thought about my imaginary hotel sex weekend. Room service was definitely high on the fantasy list. And here we were, getting room service at his suggestion. We ordered, then made out for a while. I finally looked up and suggested we should probably clean up some of the condom wrappers, ropes, and lube bottles - not to mention put clothes on. "I'm a pragmatist," I explained, grinning.
Breakfast was stellar. French toast with fruit, buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup, and scrambled eggs with bacon. And coffee, for the coffee drinker (not me). He served me breakfast in bed!!! *dies* I know I probably sound like a 16 year old girl, but jeepers. It's the little, thoughtful things like that that are so often overlooked. Not by B though. The man is thoroughly detail oriented.
After breakfast he gave my bits a massage (he's SO good at yoni massages!) because they were getting a little sore. Despite the copious amounts of lube and abundant use of Foria, that much sex with a cock that thick is bound to cause some friction. Then he massaged my hips and legs, which were also getting sore. B is the quintessential thoughtful and intuitive lover. He seems to instinctively know what I need and if ever he's not sure, he asks. It's delightful.
We got a late checkout (pushed from 11am to 1pm - good job B!) and napped for a bit before we left. We packed up, checked out, and B asked how I felt about going to the beach before we left the resort. I am always a yes to the beach. It's my happy place. So we took my beach blanket and walked across the street to the beach, sat down in the sand and watched the ocean together. Naturally, I couldn't help myself and I had to actually go in the ocean up to my knees. Even though the water was only 60 degrees. I can't resist the pull of the ocean. It calls to me. The views were stunning. In the second picture, you can see the resort and some of Huntington Beach. It was a truly magical weekend. Thank you for welcoming me back to California with such vigor, B!