It is time to announce another new project on Molly’s Daily Kiss. I know, I must be mad right, on top of all the other projects and writing plans I have I decide to launch another new sub domain but in my defence I am hoping that it is you are going to write it and not me.

Anonymous is a space I have created for you to share your anonymous words. In recent weeks I have been contacted by quite a few different people asking me to publish anonymous pieces on my blog on behalf of them and so I got to wondering if maybe creating a space just for people’s anonymous words might have the potential to turn into a very interesting project.

After a lot of deliberation and a very serious attempt at trying to talk myself out of launching another new project I have decided to go ahead with it anyway. You see I spent ages wondering if anyone would use a space like this or is going to just sit here and be forgotten and after much thoughts I realised that the only way to find that out was to just get on and do it. In the end it that will depend on you, who ever you are, the writer without a name. I have no idea if you will come forward or not but just in case you do I have the perfect spot for you.

Anonymous…. Where only you know who you are

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Mollyxxx

Ps… I have already been sent my first anonymous post so look out for that coming soon. Do you want to be next?

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This weekend he asked me to choose. He has never asked me to choose before. Actually that is not strictly true he has given me options like; the wooden spoon or the whip, or the leather paddle or the wooden paddle but never just a completely free choice from all the instruments of torture. When he saw my choice he smiled but there was something else there in his eyes. Surprise maybe? Yes, it was surprise, you see he was sure I would choose the flogger.

Often there is a tussle in our play or sometimes even a downright dirty fight as I do love to be made to submit. I have always said I am happiest on my knees but only when forced down onto them but on this occasion I felt a need to give myself over to him. No struggle, no direction, just a momentary exchange of glances as I climbed across the bed, laid face down and offered myself to him.

Unlike the flogger or whip or crop to use the vampire gloves on someone you have to be close, and thinking about that now makes me realise that is another reason I love them because they nearly always come with the feel of his body pressed up against mine, and this time was no exception.

Anticipation is a wonderfully torturous thing and laying there with my face buried in the pillow I could feel my heart rate start to pick up ever so slightly as I listened to him to sliding the leather glove over his hand and as he began to draw the sharp prickles down over my back I could feel the heat already beginning to rise between my thighs.

Those first few strokes of the vampire gloves always come as a shock as the sharp little points dig into my skin but unlike spanking, or the paddle where that stinging sensation tends to build it would seem the little points dilute that sting and turn it into a deeper sensation that has me arching my back and thrusting my behind out for more.

I love the way those sharp little needles dig into my flesh causing the blood to flow to the surface of my skin and spreading around its heat like a poison within me. I know he doesn’t spank me quite as hard as he does without the gloves but even so I wouldn’t say he holds back either and there is certainly no pausing. He knows what I need and will happily give it to me until I am intoxicated with lust on the bed next to him.

Blush

Slowly but firmly he drags his gloved hand over my now bruised bottom, with enough pressure that the spikes nip and grab at my skin, tugging and pulling as his hand explores up over my back and then down again, across the fiery skin of my arse and then down onto the delicate flesh at the back of my legs. When he uses his other hand to part my thighs I groan in protest and wriggle up the bed slightly to try to escape what I know is coming next. A firm hand pressing down into the small of back halts my little dance of defiance.

Perfect V

He touches me so gentle but still the prickles feel so frighteningly sharp on such delicate flesh and I realise I am holding my breath in an attempt to stay perfectly still but no matter how hard I try I cannot seem to control the little fluttering ripples of the muscles inside me. Arching my back I try to open my legs further hoping that he will use the other hand to rub at my clit and let those ripples explode into fully fledged waves within me but he just chuckles and continues to drag the pin pricks of the glove all over my outer folds and the tops of my thighs.

I thought the teasing was never going to stop but I should have known better because just when I was on the verge of screaming in frustration the gloved hand came back down onto my already sore bottom and continued to abuse it over and over again until eventually the tears started to flow. The cool of his skin against the heat of my broken flesh only served to increase my desperate need to cum as he fucked me from behind but it was the way he used the glove to scratch deep groves into the flesh on my back that really sent me crashing over the edge.

Vampire Marks

Mollyxxx

Ps…. The word this week for Wank Wednesday is ‘dance’. Click the icons below to find out who else is joining in with all the Wednesday fun.

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I had been keeping my eyes open for ages for one the old-fashioned red Tardis style telephone boxes but in many urban locations they had slowly been replaced with horrible modern alternatives that lacked the iconic style of the red phone bow and then with the rise of the mobile phone many had been removed altogether. Quite a few of the old style ones have been maintained in and around central London where their look has been deemed to be more in keeping with the surrounding architecture. However when you are looking for one of these to take photographs for the Scavenger Hunt in central London is not really the place. Of course the other place that you frequently find them is in more rural settings, places where they have not succumbed to vandalism or road traffic accidents or again where the look of them fits in with the villages more traditional looks.

It was a fine autumn day and we were driving back from a meeting in the town just south of where we live and I saw the signpost for this little village. I had been there many times as it housed a local museum in the old water-mill there. It is a pretty place, with a stream (the runs the mill) and building dating back to Tudor times and so I suggested a quick detour to show Sir another bit of local history.

As we rounded the bend into the village there it was. Standing majestically on the corner and looking like it had always been there it gave the whole place a real feel of bygone times. As I pulled open the door I had to wonder when the last time was that anyone had stepped inside this structure as the whole place was filled with a maze of cobwebs.

*

I guess it had been a while since someone had stood here and actually called someone and so I decided that it was time this beautiful structure was put to use again

*

I guess most people would have popped a few coins into the slot

*

And made a phone call to someone for old times sake

*

But that was not exactly what I had in mind for this place

*

I wanted my visit to be a bit more orgasmic than that

*

And so when it was finally time to leave not only would I have a new set of photographs for the Scavenger Hunt

*

But also a happy smile upon my face.

Mollyxxx

Ps… Click the icon below to go and see who else is joining in with Sinful Sunday.

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Pps… If you want to find out more about the Scavenger Hunt, see the full list of possible locations and who has completed what so far then click the icon below.

Gold Award

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Settling down in front of my computer on Saturday morning with the taste of his cock still lingering on my tongue and his cum just starting to leak out of my pussy I let out a contented sigh. For what felt like the first time in weeks we had a whole weekend to ourselves, no kids, no social plans, just us and 2 whole days of whatever we felt like doing.

I had been woken by a hand in my hair, dragging me down his body and guiding my mouth onto his soft cock. As I held him tightly in the warm confines of my mouth I took a moment to breathe in his warm night-time scent that still lingered around his body. With his fingers still twisted in my hair he started to guide my mouth slowly up and down over his cock. With each thrust into the back of my throat I could feel him growing larger and larger, filling my mouth and making the saliva dribble down my chin and onto his tight balls.

I love making him cum, whether it be inside me or on me I don’t care I just love hearing the noise he makes and feeling his cock twitch and throb as he empties his balls because of me and so when he guided me to sit on his cock and used my cunt to make himself cum I was not in the least bit bothered that I had not cum too until I read this….

Then I knew I was in for a weekend of testing, teasing, using and abusing and this morning’s awakenings had only been the beginning of what he had planned for me and I was right.

On Saturday we went out shopping which turned into dinner and a movie. We saw Sherlock Holmes and I think I spent as much time watching Robert Downey Jnr and Jude Law as I did watching him. Not that I didn’t enjoy the film because I did, a lot but because every now and then the words he had whispered into my ear during dinner would spring up a into my thoughts and my body would fizz in anticipation of his touch; A touch that in the end never appeared, well not that evening anyway and definitely no orgasm

In the morning he used my mouth again, pinning me on my side to the bed and laying next to me as he took me for his pleasure. Slowly and deliberately taking his time, all the while talking to me, filling the room with words that made me moan and groan onto his cock and left my cunt throbbing and aching. He seems to know full well that the right words are just as powerful a turn on to me as any touch, maybe more so sometimes. Apart from his cock in throat, his cum on my tongue and his hands on my wrists he had barely touched me yet my body was as hot and alive as if he spent 20 minutes delicately teasing my clit. Words; my downfall and still no orgasm

That evening when I had finished writing he led me to the dining room, stripped my leggings from me and set the palms of my hands onto the table top. It was all so slow and controlled, no fighting, no words this time just cool determined actions that had me calmly waiting for whatever was in store for me. The first prickly strike of his hand-made me gasp and my fingers curl up against the wood of the table but there is something about the vampire gloves that has me beaten before he even touches me. They look so vicious and cruel and if he drags them over my skin they tend to snag and scratch as if hinting at the possibility of far worse to come but then when he spanks me with them I find myself arching my back and wanting more. They bite at my skin but in a warm pleasing way that seems to heat my whole body, each strike digging deeper into my flesh and leaving tons and tons of tiny little pin pricks across the smooth skin of my behind.

I was nearly on my knees by the time he pushed me further forward over the table and thrust his cock into my pussy. My arse was a burning stinging mess and the touch of his skin up against it made me wriggle and moan in protest but as I tried to pull away he bought the other gloved hand down onto the side of my thigh, a warning strike but enough to send my mind reeling as it tried to cope with yet another intrusion.

I watched his face in the mirror above the table as he took me from behind, our eyes watching each other. Him watching his little slut, seeing the lust within her eyes as he fills her with his cock and her watching this man use her like the dirty little whore she is. Her stare never leaves his face as he drives himself into her again and again and she watches…. I watch as he closes his eyes and fucks away at my hole until finally cumming deep inside me letting out that distinctive groan, a noise he only makes when he cums and as he does I can feel my own juices spill out of me and start to trickle down my thighs.

He takes photographs of me now, laying me over the beanbag as if to show off his creation and still I have not cum. My bottom is red raw where he has spanked me with the gloves and I am breathless and sweaty but to be honest none of that really registers with me because all I can think about is the orgasm I crave. It is there, I can feel it, hiding behind my clit just waiting for the right touch for it to be fully unleashed. Every move I make just highlights that dull throb of wantonness even more, there is no ignoring it anymore, or living with it. It is consuming my thoughts now and my senses and as he leads me up to bed that night I lie down next to him and beg.

Begging

Mollyxxx

Ps… The word this week is crave. Click the icons below to see who else is playing along

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Welcome to e[lust], the sex blog round-up- The best posts from the hottest and smartest sex bloggers all in one place! This edition highlights topics such as libido, fake orgasms, teenage lust, voyeurism, BDSM consent and so much more. Want to be included in e[lust] #33? Start with the rules, come back in February to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ The Top Three Posts ~

Assent Matters by SherynB – Find your emotional power to recognize and say “no” to what you don’t want BEFORE you get naked and tied up and give up your actual physical power to walk away to anybody.

Forever The Night – ‘Why the hell shouldn’t I listen? This is my home, my bedroom after all’. So I do listen and I do feel myself twitch at every minute sound on the other side of that fucking wall.

Hands. Fingers. Pleasure. – This was the first time a boy’s fingers had such unfettered access to my pussy. Prior gropings under and through clothes had never been like this.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

The Fake Orgasm: You think you know, but you have no idea – I am 34 and I have faked orgasms. There ya have it. But I have never and will never qualify doing so as “I did it for him”.

~ Featured Post (Picked by Lilly) ~

Sadie Says… Awake – In the haze of my missing libido I also lost myself. I began to wonder if I remembered who the hell I was?

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Kink & Fetish

Connection, Intimacy & Trust
DQ Earns a Pass from Chasity
Five Little Words
Naked and kinky in a busy sex shop
Sharp Tongues and Good Pain
Sexual violence
The Duke Story
‘Twas the Night Before Kinky
The Pink Elephant
Who I Am
Who Are You to Change Us?
Waking You

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Busy Writing
Help! My Vibrator Won’t Work
Men and Visual Stimulation
Slippery and sticky and covered in lube
The Safe Zone – Giving Yourself Permission To Screw Up in Non-Monogamy
Until Death Do Us Part

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Interview With Senior Sexuality Advocate Joan Price

Erotic Writing

21
A Read to Remember
Aurelia (A Dirty Kind Of Grace part 1)
A Fistful
banana bread
Christmas Day
Last night in Cap D’Adge
Later On In The Evening
Meat Hooks & Butcher’s Twine
Reside
Sugarbutch Star: blckndblue, The Pink Dress
she and he and me…
Surprise Orgasm
wind

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The best way to start the day is with a mouthful of cum…

Savouring

Mollyxxx

Ps… Sinful Sunday has a new home as of this week. Click the icon below to find out more

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When I started Sinful Sunday back in April of last year I really didn’t know what to expect. Would people join in? Would word spread? Would I be playing with myself? (and not in the good way) Was there even a need for another meme like this? Little did I know.

Over the last 39 weeks Sinful Sunday has slowly but surely gone from strength to strength. The number of contributing blogs has steadily increased and the page views here have continued to climb and in recent weeks there has been regular requests for me to host guest posts on Molly’s Daily Kiss for people who want to join but don’t have a space they feel comfortable doing so in. All of which has made me decide that now is the time to move Sinful Sunday to its very own home, where hopefully it can continue to grow and develop and be a place where bloggers can share their work with an increasingly appreciative audience.

My plan is to use this dedicated space to continue to grow and develop Sinful Sunday. It will mean that it will now be possible to write mid-week round ups, posts about my favourite entries, announcements about up coming theme details as well as guest post and hopefully some really great competitions. The first of which will be coming along very soon.

So whether you have been playing Sinful Sunday from the get go, or a new to the whole thing please do click the icon below and go and check out Sinful Sunday’s sexy new home.

Has A New Home

Mollyxxx

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She sent me a private message in Twitter asking if I would publish an anonymous guest post that she wanted to write. I asked her to send it and I would take a look. I read it through a few times, my heart racing and the urge to wrap her up in a warm blanket and try to make things better overwhelming me, then I messaged her back with a yes. She is a another blogger and I suspect many of you probably visit her blog regularly but for now these words of hers will live here. She needed to write them to set them free and now she needs them to be read. Maybe one day she will come here and claim them as hers and maybe not, either way it doesn’t matter. She knows and I know and the rest we shall just leave you to wonder……

Mollyxxx

*****

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Nothing seems to be enough at the moment yet I am satisfied beyond what words can describe. How can these 2 opposites exist in me at the same time? I sleep that restful sleep of a woman well used and loved yet during my waking hours I think about; more. I am haunted by the memories of last time whilst at the same I wonder how far he will take me next time. My mind skips between the past and the possible. Yet I am quiet. I have not told him what it is that haunts me, even though I can’t seem to get it out of my head the words stay unspoken

The heat of the flogger on my skin and the sound it makes as it connects with my flesh still rings in my ears. If I close my eyes I can feel the grip of the cuffs on my wrists as they hold me in place before him and when I look down I remember seeing my shoes laying there, empty and forgotten for the time being. The room is busy, people are talking and laughing, but even though my eyes see them my ears seems to switch off to the background noise. For me the only sound I can hear is the paddle or crop or whip as it cuts through the air and finds me. I am its intended target, the recipient of its affections and with each touch I learn to fear it less and want it more.

The Recipient

On the wall hangs a clock, it has a large white face but it is lit from behind with soft iridescent lighting that slowly changes colour. My eye is constantly drawn to it, not to watch time itself but as a focus point, a place for my eyes to rest and see nothing. I don’t need my eyes now.

The flogging stops and it is replaced by the paddle, my skin is hot and raw but the paddle cuts through that and seems to find new different nerves to excite. The change in sensation makes my body jerk and dance as it attempt to fight the growing throb. It is now when it would be so easy to say the word, to make it stop. I can even feeling it leap about inside my brain trying to find its way to my tongue but I bite it back and turn to look at him. I don’t say anything but he knows me well enough and I can only assume the pleading look in my eye tells him everything he needs to know because he reaches out to me and caresses the underside of my arm as he whispers into my ear.

“Breathe Slutmine, slowly.”

The sound of his voice gives me something to focus on and I can feel the panic and fight in me starting to subside and the muscles in my back relax just enough to allow me to absorb each touch into my core rather than pushing it away by creating a tense field of muscles to protect me. The tension only serves to exhaust me and make the fight between pain and pleasure an easy victory for pain and an unsatisfying defeat for pleasure yet my body tends to instinctively do this and it often takes a conscious effort to fight against it because when I do then pleasure will defeat pain and take me by the hand and draw me deep into my own hazy adrenaline filled cloud of heaven.

Heaven

He whips me then, a sensation I usually abhor but tonight, even as the tears prickle into my eyes and I beg him not too I am also secretly willing him on, hungry for more, desperate to be marked. In the end he returns to the flogger and sets about finding the edge; the place where I can finally take no more.  He moves around me, exploring my thighs and the back of my legs, before return his attention to the red raw flesh of my behind. Over and over he pounds at me, slowly but surely increasing the power behind each strike until the sweat pours from his brow and I finally say it. The word slips from my lips in a whisper but he must have known it was coming because instantly he stops and steps in close behind me. The touch of his cool finger tips on my red-hot skin is almost more than I can stand.

He unbuckled my wrists now and leads me to a chair, wrapping me a blanket and finding me a drink he holds me in his arms. I love being used like this in a public setting but then come these moments when all I want to do is suck him. Don’t ask me why but when he uses me like this I can almost taste him on my tongue. I want to kneel at his feet and hold his cock in my mouth, feeling it grow thick and hard until it is choking me and then finally cumming into my throat but for now that is an urge I have to fight and anyway it soon becomes apparent that although he has let me down of the cross that doesn’t mean that he is done with me just yet.

He doesn’t tie me up this time, maybe he knows I am more docile now that he has beaten me like this, instead he stands me to one side and holds my wrists tightly in front of me and sets about my bottom with the vampire gloves. I can feel them digging into my already red raw skin but my judgement is gone, and I am flying high now. I close my eyes and sink deeper into the sensation, there is no pain now, no flinching or twisting, no fighting or moaning just silent tears of release.

I am surprised when he stops it seems like only moments have gone by but he is pulling the gloves from his hands and turning me round so that he can see his handy work. I hear someone gasp, a small exclamation of surprise and I turn to try to see who it is. She is looking straight at me, I don’t know who she is but in her eyes I see a question. He has a tissue in his hand and is wiping the back of my thigh, I am surprised and I reach round behind me and dab at the damp sticky wetness that clings to my skin. As I bring my hand back to face it is then that I see it. He has made me bleed. It is running down the back of my thighs, there are a few droplets on the floor and just over there the girl still watches us. I smile at her, I hope that answers her unspoken question but I doubt she can really it, the rush of excitement and the almost overwhelming joy I feel at knowing I have bled for him. I study the red smear of blood on the palm of my hand. My heart races as I look at it. I am bleeding and I love it.

There I said it, not out loud I know, but I am sure I will soon. I bled for him and it made me feel more alive and more submissive and more loved and cherish and horny and dirty and happy then I could ever have possible imaged that it would. I relive that moment over and over again in my mind, the vampire gloves, the spanking, the noise, the room, the people and the blood and it haunts me. I once wrote that I was scared of my submission, not of being submissive and certainly not of him but of me and how far into a pit of darkness it might possibly take me. I am not scared of it any more but I do know that it is like a hungry beast within me and that the more it is fed the more it wants to consume.

Feed Me

Mollyxxx

Ps… The word this week for Wank Wednesday is ‘blanket’. Make sure you click on the icons below to see who else is Wanton or Wanking

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It is now the end of the 1^st week of the 365 project and things have been ticking along nicely so all the remains to really get this really off the ground is to share it with you lot.

The idea behind The 365 Project is to take at least one photograph a day for the whole year and post them online. I have looked through quite a few of these online projects now and they all seem to vary greatly. For some people they have tried to tell a year in the life of themselves using only photographs, for others it has been a more random photographic journey into what has caught their eye but I guess the central theme to all of them I have looked at is that the 365 challenge encourages them to use their camera more and as a result hopefully improve their photography skills.

I originally heard about the project from Hubman’s blog (Hubman’s Hangout) who has just finished his second year of the challenge and I believe it now embarking on year 3 of his 365 journey. The moment I started reading about the idea I decided that I wanted to try it myself. Over the last 2 years of mainly self-portrait photography I have developed an increasing love for my camera as well realisation that I am not completely crap at using it. This summer saw me finally putting my little point and press Casio to one side and investing in something a little more sexy; a Cannon DSLR 1100D and so my photography has continued to develop and grow. My hope with the 365 project is that it will give me a place to post pictures that don’t fit into the self-portrait or erotic framework of Molly’s Daily Kiss as well as encouraging me to experiment and explore other places and things with my camera.

It is for this reason that I have decided to host this project on a separate sub domain. Molly’s Daily Kiss is just starting to really make a name for itself as a high-ranking sex blog and I feel that posting the 365 project work here would only detract from that. I have worked very hard on it over the last year or so and  finally feel like it has developed its own identity. I know what fits here and what doesn’t but that doesn’t mean I want to limit myself to this being my only genre of creative outlet and so a sub domain for this project seems to be the perfect answer.

I hope you will take the time to go and visit The 365 project from time to time and if you see anything there that makes an impression please do leave me a comment. Comments are like air to a blogger and a photographer. I know what it is that I see and think and the photographs I am particularly proud or pleased of but I also want to see through your eyes and if you don’t talk to me then I have no chance of doing that.

Finally if you are doing your own version of the 365 Project then please do get in touch as I am really keen to follow some other people’s journeys as well as completing my own. Currently my blog roll is looking fairly empty but as I discover other people’s projects that I enjoy they will gradually be added to that list. I am also still working on the theme and layout, I am happy with things so far but I am sure when you go and look you will see there are a couple of little glitches that the tech department still has to iron out. He is cooking my dinner right now so I can’t complain… not unless I want an extremely sore bottom that is.

The 365 Project

Click The Icon To Visit My 365 Project

Mollyxxx

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