Today I’m pleased to host the beautiful, sexy, kinky Mia Adams and her clothespins. After hearing her wonderful story about how kink breathed new experiences into her sex life with her husband, I knew that she had to write for VA. I don’t think that kink is for everyone, but I believe that couples can try new things and explore each other in different ways to create a vibrant, living sex life. Mia inspires me, and it’s just one of the many reasons I adore her. Enjoy!
It was a vacation we really hadn’t planned to take – a short, unscheduled trip to the Gulf Coast during one of the last fall breaks we would have with our teenage daughters. Our rental was ideally situated for vacation sex, with the girls’ bedroom at the opposite end of the condo. Unlike at home, where busy schedules and the stress of everyday life could sometimes limit our romance, vacation sex was a given. With a Kindle loaded with several deliciously kinky novels, I was already primed and ready for action.
A few days into the trip, B and I rolled around on our king-sized bed, B’s hands gripping my ass as I writhed up against him. As I reached for his cock, he flipped me over and asked, “How would you like some clothespins on your nipples?” I gulped, shocked speechless. In a low voice, B ordered, “Get up, go grab some from the kitchen, and bring them back to me.” I jumped up and ran, naked, to grab a couple clothespins from open bags of chips, my heart racing and my pussy almost embarrassingly wet. It was a visceral reaction – I could feel my juices on my inner thighs, my face hot with a combination of mortification and arousal. I placed the clothespins in his hands and I watched, eyes wide and pussy throbbing, as B firmly pinched then pulled my right nipple and placed the clothespin on it. Before I could gasp, the left nipple got the same treatment.
I’m not going to lie – it hurt. A lot. Clothespins are not for the faint of heart, and unlike adjustable tweezer clamps they don’t have an “easy” setting without some form of modification. But despite the throbbing in my nipples, or maybe because of it, my already raging libido went through the roof. I couldn’t get enough of his hands, his mouth, his cock – everything was magnified, and at the touch of his fingers on my clit, I came, then came again when he fucked me. As B gently removed the clothespins from my swollen nipples, I moaned in a throaty mix of pain and pleasure.
That day marked the beginning of a new chapter, not just in our sex lives but in every aspect of our relationship. In my mind, there was a clear delineation: pre-clothespins and post-clothespins. Early in our marriage, we had fooled around with spanking and we had a fair number of butt plugs, anal beads, and vibrators. But our youthful adventures had nothing on this new dynamic. This had the distinct feel of D/s, and I was almost insane with desire.
My sex drive had become that of a 16-year-old boy overnight. I thought about sex literally all the time. I learned later that what I was going through was sub frenzy, but at the time, all I could think was “more please.” When I wasn’t actively fantasizing, I was cruising Tumblr, reading BDSM romance, or drooling over sex toy websites. I stayed continuously wet and horny, and discovered that the seam of my jeans could be both a help and a hindrance when I was in public. B and I discussed safe words, but in my mind, the words were really for him, not for me – because it was impossible for me to imagine something I would not want to do, or a limit that was too far.
A couple of weeks after we got home from vacation, school activities were back at full speed, but so was my imagination. After a particularly lurid fantasy conceived while traveling to and from afterschool activities, I could barely get in the door before I started touching myself. B came home early from work to find me standing next to the bed with my hands down my pants, masturbating frantically. He bent me over the bed, spanked me thoroughly and finger fucked me to orgasm. It was my best fantasy come to life.
By the end of the month, the frenzy had eased a little, the need still constant but not so all consuming. On Halloween as the girls readied their costumes, B pulled me into the bedroom, locked the door, and handed me an oblong box. I opened it to find a lovely crop, which he fiercely applied to my eager ass. As I lay sprawled across the bed, ass red and welted, I could only marvel at the difference a month could make. Just by one simple suggestion, our sex lives had started a whole new chapter, and for better or worse, there would never be any going back.
He had me at clothespins.
Mia Adams is a sassy Southern girl and a lover of strong coffee, fine wine, and a firm smack on the ass.