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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Thursday 16 December 2010

Icicle fucking

Sometimes I like to have wry titles. Sometimes I like to come straight to the point. This one is about having sex with ice. Ice dildos to be precise, both the fucking and being fucked (turnabout is fair play and any pervert worth their salt should always be prepared to take what they dish out, in my opinion).

We'll start with a bit of scene setting. The place is Kinky Salon London, the crowd is a small number of folk, most of whom I don't know. This is unusual for me, and reflects the fact that KSL is not a play club as such - there was very little in the way of BDSM kit - the space was set up for public fucking. However, it didn't have the feel of a traditional swingers club, it was much more queer friendly and sexual openness and exploration (especially boy-on-boy) was heartily encouraged, a sentiment I can thoroughly applaud. There was also a certain standard of effort that had gone into the event which raised the bar in terms of how good everything looked and felt. People had obviously spent hours decorating the space and creating their costumes. Having a theme helped a lot, I suspect. It binds everyone together, like the fetish "uniform" we are able to slip on alter egos that give us permission to unwind and to play, to step outside of themselves, if only for a night.

Having brought along several ice dildos I was in the market to test them on someone, and had an immediate volunteer in the beautiful shape of Spirit, who was eager to try a new sensation. I was very taking with her practical approach to the whole encounter, which possibly reflects the fact that she is more at home with this kind of event than I am.
I confessed to being a little perplexed at what to do once the cabaret had started and everyone was stood around chatting, holding their drinks, dressed in costume. I think that part of me was waiting for the screams of pain to start.The lack of preamble was exceptionally refreshing, the situation was treated without the standard bluster and paraphernalia of sexual encounters - it was something fun that we were going to do. Equally, there wasn't much in the way of negotiation. We knew each other, knew what we wanted to do. Sex without a d/s context and without the connection of a relationship beyond friendly feelings took on the guise of a joint experiment. Hand in hand we went upstairs, stripped, briefly discuss the need for lube and the best position to do this in (we decided that me-on-top would work).

The ice was melting a little, so it wasn't frosty so slipped in easily. Her reaction was superb, making me grin from ear to ear. She closed her eyes, moaned and gave little shrieks as I fucked for a while until she needed to take a break. I loved the feel of her body underneath mine - she's got superb muscles underneath soft skin and I'm taken with the idea that physically we might be of a match. She also has a certain way about her, a definite this is happening now firmness to how she moves and makes physical decisions with her body.

We took a moment to change positions so that she could fuck me - having heard her description of what the ice felt like inside I had to try it. It's certainly an odd sensation. The venue was quite warm, so the icicle had that pleasant sucking on an ice cube satisfaction, added to the enjoyment of feeling full and being fucked. Her arms on my shoulders and sharing the pleasure of the experience - we giggled a little as I gasped after the first shudder passed through me. A numbness crept through my cunt, which made it all feel somewhat disembodied, I could feel the movement inside me but I couldn't feel all of it. There was also a little pain, not much, but it had a similar quality to electric shocks - sensation without pressure. The real pain came afterwards, when we stopped and discarded the now very melted and much shrunk chunk of ice. Like fingers coming in from the frost an itchy, burning feeling invaded my cunt as the nerves sprung back to life with a vengeance. It was shocking, and also very intimate - a pain deep inside me that I couldn't do anything about.

Fortunately, I was able to counter this not only with the knowledge that she had experienced the same feelings, but we were able to lie down together, and swap notes on what we'd done and felt, which is an all too rare occurrence - usually it's one or the other. I was pleased (not entirely surprised) to find that we had a lot in common, particularly with regards to switching, BDSM and sexual gendered identities - something to explore and discuss in the future.

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