D/s: Prefer real scenes + Bad to the Bone

D/s: Prefer Real Scenes

Traditional play scenes like Master/slave, Teacher/school girl, Doctor/nurse, and countless others have never been included in our sex-life. Kat and I have experimented with the traditional play sessions in past relationships, with similar results: it didn’t do much for either of us. We have nothing against such play, but they’re not a good fit for our personalities.

We don’t want to pretend to be anyone else: we’re realists. We want to experience our sexuality—through playfulness, exploration, and experimentation—completely as ourselves.

The possibilities for sexual variation are equally limitless when remaining ourselves as they are for those that role-play; plus, we’re never hampered by the perceived boundaries of a character. The only limits we have are the limits of our imagination.

Kat has often told me that she loves my seemingly insatiable appetite for learning and experiencing new things. And, as her Dom, I’ve seen the possibilities—with positive benefits—of incorporating sex into as many areas of interest as we can. It creates a vast arena outside of traditional play sessions to enjoy sexual diversity; plus, it fits our personalities better, since we explore and experience it as ourselves.

So, I’ve decided to write some posts on how sex can be incorporated into areas of interest. Naturally, I’ll be using various daily life situations, hobbies, past-times, and other interests closely related to kat and I.

I’m sure many of you have already done similar activities. But it may spark additional ideas for spicing up the sex-life of couples new to D/s, or even vanilla couples.

couple on bike 8

Bad to the Bone, Good for the Boner

The area I want to begin with is my love of motorcycles. I’ve ridden bikes on and off road since I was young. Bikes have an allure for those who like things cool, fast, powerful, and sexy. They also spark images and thoughts of independence, freedom, Lone Wolves, rogues, rebels, outlaws, and bad boys.

The growl of a Harley when it cranks over is like a badass baritone announcing the arousing festivities are about to commence. When you straddle the steel steed in Levi’s and leather—and your lady cuddles behind you close enough to feel her temperature rise with the throbbing vibrations of the bike between your legs—you can’t help smiling on the inside, while maintaining your exterior cool.

Yes, bikes and babes go together like tongues and clits. And if you can’t think of some sexy possibilities with that combination then Viagra won’t even help you. After all, the primary apparel for babes on bikes is tight-ass jeans, short-shorts, bikinis, and leather. And the leather can be anything from mini-skirts to pants, or vests to chaps. And a babe with leather chaps over panties with sexy butt cheeks exposed is a standard wet dream for any serious biker.

For the more experienced bikers with a taste for thrills, sex at 70-mph or above gets the adrenalin pumping faster than your penis in her pussy. It’s kind of like entering the mile-high club for frequent flyers. But, as you can imagine, it’s dangerous as hell. So, while I considered it in my reckless youth, my middle-age maturity and common sense will not allow me to endanger kat.

However, the throbbing vibration of a Harley—which is far better than any vibrating household appliance women have humped for masturbatory purposes throughout history—is too good not to take advantage of. So, just think of the wonderful possibilities of you and your sub in a modified cowboy or reverse cowboy position atop an idling Harley, and the vibrations varying at the twist of a throttle. Or, how about the same positions while riding slow down a bumpy dirt road.

The vibrations of the bike along with road choice can also be a great way to arouse your sub, or get her off sexually. Sex toys—dildoes, vibrators, and butt plugs—can easily be used in her pussy, ass, or both. It gives a whole new meaning to joy-riding.

On less adventurous days, a bike can still take you to some great secluded spots where you can get naked, skinny-dip, and fuck your brains out in the heat of the sun, or under the moon and stars; whether on the ground, straddling the bike, or simply bending her over it.

The scenario possibilities are endless. For instance, I really like the following Halloween scenario:

Kat wears a pair of her skin-tight jeans—which help secure a plug in her ass—along with sexy knee-high leather boots, and a slinky silk top that blows with the breeze.

We hop on the Harley and go hog-wild visiting half a dozen haunted houses in three adjoining counties. We then head up through an old cemetery to a secluded spot where a rippling brook empties into a lake.

Once there, we pay no mind to the bewitching hour as we suck and fuck for a couple hours; ending with the piece de resistance, removing the butt plug, bending her over the seat of the bike, and fucking and spanking her ass until she screams and cums so long that every critter in the forest knows my name.

Last word

There’s nothing better than enjoying orgasmic bliss doing something you love with the person you love the most. So, if you haven’t done it already, make a list of your daily duties, hobbies, past-times, etc, and begin to find ways to include them in your sex-life. You won’t be sorry.

PS: My next several posts will touch on some other areas kat and I have chosen to include in our sex-life: some to spice up our sex-life, and others to spice up the activity (like chores).

bike babe in chaps 7

Twas the night

[A humorous gift for kat.]


Twas the night of her ravishing,

throughout the whole house,

two creatures playfully stirring

with kinky games, like cat and mouse.

Her stockings were flung

by the chimney without care,

with hope at some point

they’ll bind her when bare.


The children are gone,

sleeping in Grandma’s spare beds,

while we bring to life visions

that have often danced in our heads.

Kat’s eyes covered with her ‘kerchief,

as I give her butt a slap,

so aroused by the pleasure,

she eagerly awaits the strap.


When out on the roof

there arose such a clatter,

so I sprang from our bed

to see what was the matter.

Away to the window

still naked I dashed,

tore open the shutter

and threw up the sash.


Moonlight settling upon Kat’s flesh,

enhancing the hue of her first after-glow,

and gave the luster of midday

to erogenous zones, above and below.

When what to my wandering

eyes should appear,

but a miniature sleigh

and eight tiny reindeer.


With a little old driver

so lively and quick,

I knew it was Bad Santa

hoping to dip his wick.

More rapid than eagles,

his coursers they came,

as he drunkenly shouted

and slurred each ones name:


“Now, Flasher! Now, Biter!

Now, Fighter and Vixen!

On, Cunt-rag! On, Cute-pud!

On, Dung-hill and Sextin’!

To the top of the porch!

Don’t miss it and fall!

We’ll dash away! Dash away!

After my booty call!”


As dry leaves that before

the wild hurricane fly,

when they meet with an obstacle

mount to the sky,

so up to the house-top

the coursers they flew,

with the sleigh full of sex toys

and Bad Santa too.


And then in a twinkling

I heard on the roof

the prancing and pawing

of each clumsy hoof.

As I drew in my head,

and was turning around,

down the chimney Bad Santa

crashed to the ground.


He was dressed all in leather,

from his head to his foot,

and his clothes were tarnished

with dried cum, ashes, and soot.

Adult toys were bundled

and flung on his back,

he looked like a pimp peddling

something for each orifice and crack.


His eyes were all glassy

like all drunks when sloshed.

His bare ass cheeks in chaps were rosy,

but his nose was brown, by gosh!

His droll little mouth was puckered,

as if ready to blow;

and the beard on his chin was white,

but spotted like Frank Zappa’s yellow snow.


The stump of a pipe

he held tight in his teeth,

and the pot smoke encircled

his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face

and a keg-sized beer belly,

that shook when he laughed

like a slapped ass fucked with K-Y jelly.


He was chubby and plump,

a mean grouchy old elf,

and I snickered when I saw him,

in spite of myself.

He tried to wink his lazy eye,

greasy hair matted on his head,

and it was obvious to me,

I had nothing to dread.



He spoke not a word,

seeing I was twice his size,

for allowing him to leave unharmed

he would give me the grand prize.

He dropped the bag of sex toys,

and casually picked his nose,

then flipped me the bird

while up the chimney he rose.


He sprang to his sleigh

and yelled a stern warning,

“The first one of you that snickers

will be venison sausage by morning.”

And I heard him exclaim

‘ere he drove out of sight,

“You damn lucky bastard,

you get to fuck her all night!”