Indigo Writes Erotica: Straight No Chaser

My second attempt at writing erotica, which (like my first attempt) is written in collaboration with Sheets of San Francisco. I hope you enjoy!


Sarah was excited to finally have the house to herself. After the guests left from the party, she had made plans to really enjoy her evening solo. Though everyone at the party was delightful, she had drunk too much wine, and her two primary partners both agreed to leave for the night instead of coercing her into sex.
She thought about which toys she was planning to use, as she looked at the various options. Of course, the sheets were already over the bed because she had decided a long time ago to use the Pure Wand and really squirt this evening. She briefly considered using another dildo just to extend the session, but decided against it. With just the Pure Wand, she would be able to play for at least half an hour. That was enough time for her, as tipsy as she was.
She pulled out a small vibrator and the Pure Wand and settled onto the towel she had laid on top of the waterproof sheet. The sheet was nice for preventing seepage to the mattress and comforter, but the towel helped absorb some of the sweat which was going to happen. Sexy is squirting a whole bunch. Hot is the feeling of sweat pooling under your back onto a waterproof sheet.
She started with just the vibrator, pushing it up against her clit. Since she wasn’t quite turned on yet, she used more force than normal, exploring the head and the hood before moving down to the legs of her clit. Just between the head and the vaginal entrance, she placed a little less pressure and rubbed the vibrator up and down. She could feel herself beginning to get aroused.
Her hand wandered to the dildo and slipped it in. Thanks to her natural lubrication, it slipped in with ease and she began to gently wiggle it. While she moved, she imagined her partners, both great men and so different.
She imagined Mac’s body so thin and sleek, laying across her bed. His hair messed up from when she pulled his face into her vulva. She was able to be more dominant with Mac, and she often used his hair to guide him. She felt her body tense a little as she remembered the sex they had, and revisited every sensation. His lips on hers, and the feeling her him as she placed her fingers into his vagina. The taste of his dick as she sucked until he came. He doesn’t squirt as often as he used to, but she loves the taste when he does.
She almost came from that thought alone, as the dildo thrust a little bit more, making her moan and her g-spot swell. She took the vibrator away from her clit, and stopped the motion of the dildo. It was too good to tease herself. She needed to put off the orgasm. Despite her efforts, a very small orgasm persisted, and she placed the vibrator against herself again, ramping it up just a little bit. It was a little weak from her attempt to tease herself, and she sighed, knowing that she lost a good orgasm because of her own greediness.
But if she couldn’t tease herself, she could force herself to orgasm more.
She removed the dildo, and let it rest on her thigh. The weight felt good in the nook where her thigh met her groin. The handle was cold, while the part that had been inserted was warm. She took the vibrator and eased it up and down her thighs, quietly letting herself get aroused again. When she felt her vulva begin to swell, she placed the vibrator gently on the outer lips and teased it up and down, lingering on the flesh that covered her clit. It was so sensitive that it didn’t need the pressure it normally wanted. Well, it didn’t need it…yet.
She let her mind wander away from Mac and onto Chris. They were physically opposites. Where Marc was short and sleek, Chris was huge, almost 6’5″ and built like a brick wall. She delighted in his hugs when she was feeling submissive because they made her feel small.
In bed, they were opposites as well. Marc enjoyed being a bottom, and often wanted her to do unspeakable things to him. Chris was the opposite. He had tried receiving some things, but found it unfulfilling and really thrived on making her squirm.
Sarah revisited the memory from earlier in the evening. She and Chris were making some platters and he placed a piece of cheese on her shoulder, right at the sweet spot where it was about to curve upward and gently started at her ear with his tongue, and licked down the curve to where the cheese was. He bit it off of her shoulder, letting his teeth scrape into her skin just a little.
She felt herself getting wetter at this thought. Chris was so dominant, and that’s what she wanted right now. As she pushed the dildo deeper into her g-spot, she felt there was more liquid than before. She knew she would squirt with this orgasm. At that thought, she realized that the fantasies and replays were more for background noise. What was really driving this orgasm was the thought of her own juices running over the sheet. She pictured how hot and red her vulva must be.
The vibrator was deep into her clit, using more pressure than many people would enjoy. She placed even more pressure on it, feeling how it moved her clit back and forth. She briefly imagined Chris’s face over hers, telling her to orgasm now, before the vibrator was taken away.
Then it started, she felt the orgasm swell and explode. She curled her toes and turned her head into the pillow, moaning as loud as she could without disturbing the neighbors. She felt her hand thrust the dildo faster, almost of it’s own volition. As the orgasm got longer, she could feel the drops of ejaculate on her thighs and knees.
Finally, the pleasure eased up, and she could pull the vibrator away from her clit. She removed the dildo and felt her own cum run down her ass onto the bed. After taking a moment to breathe deeply and relax all her muscles, she stood up and examined the puddle. It was huge. She took a quick picture and sent it to both her partners.
“Thoughts of you in physical form. ;)”

Indigo Tries Getting Fisted

9 out of 10
This pairs nicely with a full bottle of wine. Any color. Any type. But definitely all of it. The whole thing.*
*Don’t drink and get laid. It’s irresponsible. Don’t drink and fist.
This post was created in collaboration with Kit Bauer. Their generosity with money and time allowed me to take my time and research what others’ thought. You can find their (amazing) Twitter Feed here, and their escorting page here! 
Let me tell you a story. As a budding blogger, I heard the term fisting, and I briefly wondered what it was before a kind human turned to me and said “Yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like.” Then, I knew what fisting was. And because I am goal-oriented, I immediately knew that one day, I would be fisted. Because I am a size qweeng and because I like to overcome obstacles.
A couple years later, I was spending the night with a bang buddy. She is the first vulva-owner I’ve ever had sex with. After that exploration, which was truly divine, she wanted to finger me. So she started with a dominant routine of hitting and teasing, which led to inserting two fingers. Then three, and four. I just kept wanting more (she is quite small). She said “Are you…sure?” Being lost in the moment, I just moaned “Yes yes!” She went quiet and fumbled around and then went still.
“Is…everything okay down there?”
“Well…your vagina ate my hand.”
And that is the story of how I got fisted for the first time. The second happened that very same night. My second fisting partner would come along (heh) two weeks later at a conference in Toronto. And now I would say I can take a good many fists with ease (consecutively, not at the same time…but like goals, though).
So what is fisting? Well, it’s exactly what it sounds like: you take an entire hand (or fist) into an orifice. It can be done vaginally or anally. I am sure that more creative people have done orally as well. If there are others ways to fist, I cannot fathom them, but I do appreciate other people getting creative with their bodies. It’s often seen as a challenge to overcome, or a really hot way of giving pleasure. It’s denoted in the Hanky Code by the color red.
So I have never fisted anyone (had my fist in a person), I have only been fisted (received a fist into my amazing body). Since fisting had been a goal of mine actively, I spent the first minute with a fist in me just being fucking proud and amazed by my vagina. I felt my partner rotate their arm and their knuckles inside me. Though insertion had to be performed with a traditional thin hand (all fingers pointing away from the wrist and close together), she could make a real fist once inserted.
Let me tell you, there was a beautiful minute where I felt so accomplished. I was so proud. And then she moved it just a little, and I felt myself tense up and orgasm. It was unlike any other orgasm I’d ever had. For me, fisting still brings a unique orgasm that I cannot reach with any other activity. I have just recently found my A-Spot, and I love it. But even that is different than what fisting feels like. I personally feel like fisting hits my A-Spot and my G-spot at the same time, which leads to an intense squirting sometimes. It has all the psuedo-pain and tenseness of a G-Spot stimulation, as well as all the deep and gentle power behind the A-Spot stimulation.
As I’ve said, within a month, I was getting fisted once more at Playground Conference. My friend Taylor J Mace and I had planned this for awhile before it happened, and it was a little different being fisted with purpose and intention. It also helped that we had done some more intense Dom/Sub interaction beforehand. I was thoroughly in subspace when he started. It was even more intense somehow, though there were some people watching. Since he is quite experienced, it also helped because I wasn’t pushed. And though I didn’t get quite to the wrist because I was in a small space, I know that his fist will be inside me entirely soon.
My experiences of fisting are entirely from a submissive perspective, with some kind of Dom/Sub dynamic. So I asked around for others’ take! I was especially interested in what my friend Kit Bauer had to say because they have also been fisted, but without the Dom/Sub dynamics.
“I felt so open, exposed and the amount of nerve endings that are touched is incredible. I also feel very intense waves of emotions during fisting – at times I want to cry while at other times I felt completely overcome by the pleasurable sensations. I felt so intensely vulnerable to put my trust in someone else like that and because of this I can find it difficult to come back to reality afterwards. I just want to be held, not have to speak, or even to be alone and come back to my body.” When I asked about the Dom/Sub dymanics, they admitted to not having any altered headspace. Instead, they said “I felt like I was being given a gift. Perhaps it made me more dominant, but I wasn’t in a dominant headspace.”
There is a distinct possibility that my sexual interactions are almost exclusively submissive now, just because I’m always submissive. However, I will admit that when I’m being fisted and there is a lot of communication, I’m closer to equal with my partners than when I’m not being fisted. I believe that the trust we place in each other makes us closer to equal, which is fascinating as a kinkster, sex educator and as a psychologist.
To further my information, I of course turned to Twitter, where a few other people also mentioned the physical sensations, same as Kit. They used a lot of words like “Intense”, “Connective”, and “Stretched.” However, some folks really got into detail about being a fister, and mentioned that bodies are soft and warm. The tightness as partners came and the sense of accomplishments on both sides of the fist were common themes.
A few people who are dominant and fisters also mentioned a heightened sense of power. They talk about having so much of their submissive under their control. One person even mentioned that between eye contact and muscle contractions, it becomes hotter because there is no verbal communication needed (though it is of course allowed). I believe that this is what draws me to fisting as a sub. It’s so vulnerable that anyone who is domming me with their entire fist has such amazing power over me. Because of that, they have to listen to me because if something does go wrong, it could potentially go really wrong.
Fisting is one of the universal acts. I mean this in the way that it can be intimate or it can be business-like. It can be done with Dom/Sub dynamics. However, it can also be a simple, intimate act that is shared partners. For me, I saw fisting as an ultimate goal and a place to be as submissive as my body would allow. Now, I find it to be a way to form a strong bond between myself and my partners, specifically with my own kink dynamics. I have a goal to fist someone someday, but I’m okay to only receive for now.
As a last note, I want to say: Fisting is a bit hard to accomplish for some folks, and I want to have a brief moment to acknowledge that. Some people just won’t be able to take a full fist. That is completely okay. Bodies are all different and your body is amazing, even if it doesn’t check every box that exists. There are many ways to connect with a partner or to submit. This is just one. Love your body where it is.
This post was created in collaboration with Kit Bauer. Their generosity with money and time allowed me to take my time and research what others’ thought. You can find their (amazing) Twitter Feed here, and their escorting page here! 
 

Indigo Gives Up Mediocrity

20 out of 10
Pairs really will with some delicious Earl Grey tea. It’s more refined, it’s energizing, and it’s definitely a treat.
During my last therapy appointment, I spent an extraordinary amount of time lamenting about my exes and the amount of labor I had put into our relationships. I talked about how much I gave and how much they took. I went over all the ways I exhausted myself for my partners. Confession Corner: This had a lot to do with my most recent ex.
This ex and I were together monogamously for about a year before moving in together. We found a house and made our space and everything was good for a few months. During this time, I tried very hard to establish a routine of airing problems we had. I wanted to get coffee every other week or so and talk about boundaries, cleaning, or problems. It was going to be a safe space. This way, I wouldn’t just be making lists of what I needed help with or needed changing, and he would feel safe to bring up his issues too. Well, this idea never got off the ground, and it took me a long time to figure out why. It was such a good idea, why wasn’t he excited about it?
Well, after living together for 9 months as his emotional support, financial support and all-around mother figure, I got tired of it. He made the bed once in the entire time we lived together. And the sheet was on inside out. He didn’t really plan meals. The meals he did plan went as far as meat with flavor and instant mashed potatoes. I did all the shared laundry like towels and sheets (though I made him wash his own clothes). I pushed him to find a better job, make goals, and generally grow as a person. Perhaps that was where I went wrong. He did not want to grow, and I should have accepted this and moved on. But I loved him, so fuck me, right?
Well, after 9 months of that travesty, I finally got fed up with it. Even though he offered emotional stability, and a shoulder to cry on, I still felt like I was a grown adult with a dependent. So I kicked his ass out of my house and we tried to make it work while he lived at his parents (because in that time, he had not saved money despite my paying both of our rents for several months BUT I DIGRESS). After his losing another job (number 6 in as many months), I got fed up, and broke it off completely. It was heart-breaking for me. I was hurt, and I was disappointed.
After two months of pain and hurt, we got back together. This probably would not have happened except that we had to be in touch because he owed me over $2000 and we were communicating about that regularly. But here we were again. Trying to make it work. We had been monogamous for so long, and I felt like I was just trapped in this stupidity. I had no sexual freedom to explore and all the talks we had about threesomes or others were fruitless. He was just never ready, and I got the feeling that he never would be. So I wanted to try polyamory. In a polyam dynamic, maybe I could feel less attached to him, and give myself some fucking freedom. He agreed to try it with me. But he also continued his trend of not wanting to communicate with me and we never established boundaries or determined what our brand of polyamory was. So when he suddenly had a new “partner” (not a date, but a partner), I got uncomfortable and scared. I tried really hard to communicate that I felt this way. I tried to explain that I was worried he couldn’t take care of himself, or me, and it felt awful that he pulled in someone else under those circumstances.
So he left me.
Yeah, let me write that again. He left me. For her. After months and dollars. After emotional nights and so much labor. After giving so much of myself to make this relationship work, he walked out. Because it was hard and suddenly I was asking too much.
Now, it’s been about 4 and a half months since then. I’m still hurting because this was my first long-term relationship. I’m hurting because it was really unfair. I’m still hurting because I didn’t set boundaries and maintain them. I’m still hurting because I was betrayed by myself and my partner. I have lost my faith in other humans, and now I need to rebuild it somehow.
What about the money, you ask? Well I’ll tell you. A few weeks ago, he sent the last payment (fucking FINALLY), and that’s why I need to write this. My last tenuous, stressful connection to this partner is gone. I get the chance to say “Payments complete. Bye.” This one moment in text form will be the last thing that he and I share.
The cleansing feeling of letting go after trying to hold on for so long and investing so much of myself is…complicated. On one hand, this was stable in its own morbid way. It was one person who was consistent (not something I have a lot). It was almost a comfortable groove, even if it became toxic in the end. It also had hope for so long. “Maybe it will get better. Maybe if we talk enough. Maybe if I go to therapy more. Maybe if I can make more money.” Well, maybe I just need to move the fuck on and stop dating people who need me to take care of them.
So I hopped back onto my OKCupid account. I started swiping on Tinder with more interest. And I met someone too! He was a great switch, good in bed, funny, a chef, emotionally dependent, told me loved me after one date, wanted me to meet his partner, consistently needed reassurance, and when I told him I needed space, he felt guilty and placed a lot of emotional baggage onto me. Now, I love people who ask for what they want. I love people who are open about needing reassurance and who cry when they need to. This guy did all of that. AND he had all these silent expectations that I would sweep up his emotions after he was done. He assumed I wanted to meet his partner and make agreements. He assumed I wanted to have this long term relationship. And I just…didn’t. With time, I probably would have, but the pressure completely drove me away.
So I went from one mediocre human needing a mother to another human needing a mother. Neither of them are inherently bad. But all these little things that make them mediocre add up and suddenly, I’m the parental unit they need to feel secure. I just thank the gods every day that somehow I was blessed with the strength of will to leave relationships I do not like, and that’s what happened (to some extent) in both cases. Things were bad, so I changed them.
I once heard a joke: Sex is like pizza. Even if it’s bad, it’s still pizza. I thought this was funny when I heard it because I imagined that sex would always be pretty good. After all, I’m good at sex. I applied this same way of thinking to relationships too. Even if a relationship is bad, hey, it’s still a relationship. As a result, I put up with mediocre people in my life. I put up with mediocre sex and effort.
Recently, I have started sleeping with more people semi-regularly. I have one bang buddy that is kind and intriguing. She’s made it clear from the beginning that her intentions are just to have good friendships with sex. I have another who has proven to be supportive and attentive to all my requests. I’ve moved on from things that aren’t fulfilling. I am single now, but I want to be in a relationship again. I like having someone consistent. But until a better human comes along, I’m going to wait.

Indigo Tries the Cloud 9 Deluxe Enema Douche

6 out of 10
Pairs will with a Gin Fizz. It certainly is an experience and you’re not quite sure you want the end product. (Is that a raw egg?)
This kit was sent to me by the lovely folks at SheVibe in exchange for my fair and honest review. You can purchase it here!
The CloudFresh Anal Deluxe Douche sits on an orange scarf, leaning against a blue wall. It's a purple round bulb, with one flat side, and there are three nozzles in the package , which are all black.
It’s not a secret that I really love butt stuff. I wrote a whole delightful post about it, and I rave about it on Twitter a lot. I have always liked the idea of butt stuff, and I done butt stuff with my partners since I’ve had partners. In the shower, I often finger myself and I thoroughly enjoy that pleasure without orgasm. It’s just a fun way to connect with my body.
So one day when my partner was worried about my butt not being “clean” and getting “some mess on his dick,” I calmly reminded him that this is why you wear a condom for butt stuff. I also reminded him that if he thinks my body is gross, he can leave. I will admit that scat is not my personal kink, but I will not tolerate anyone who freaks out at bodily functions. There’s a difference between shaming and simply saying “it doesn’t turn me on.”
However, I did decide that I wanted an enema kit for my own. Not only would it make butt play easier and more fun, but I would also worry about my partners’ reactions less. So I requested The Cloud 9 Deluxe Enema Douche from the kind folks at Shevibe, and I eagerly awaited my enema kit in the mail. I was over the moon to receive it and unwrap it. But when I did, I found out that I was intimidated by it. What would happen when I used it? What would it feel like? What if the water was too cold? Too hot?
First, let me tell you about this product. Then I will launch into a TMI story about my first self-given enema. I’ll warn you before it starts.
I opened this kit and was immediately struck by the smell. The plastic smells were strong and weird. I would expect this from a PVC product (which is what the bulb is). I will probably have to replace this kit eventually because it cannot be fully sanitized, but because it’s only being used anally, I have a bit more time before that. This is a very bottom-heavy toy so it won’t fall over easily and the flat base is an excellent feature. There are three nozzles, each with their own shape and size. Each one screws in easily and they are fairly water-tight around the seam. Personally, the shortest nozzle worked well for me, specifically because I wasn’t warmed up. I later used the largest (widest) one in and that worked fine, but seemed like over-kill.
A close up of two of the nozzles. Both are black plastic. There are some specifications on the side, which include discussion of the flat base, a one-year warranty and a reminder to clean before and after use.The product itself is exactly as advertised. It doesn’t have a lot of bells, whistles or explanation, but it works well for me and it only costs about $20 (USD) at time of posting. I’m quite fond of this little kit and I don’t regret getting it. If that’s all you wanted to know about this enema kit, stop here. But if you’re curious about enemas and specifically my first time using one, read on.
I want to give folks a warning for a lot of TMI here, specifically around some butt stuff and poop. I’m going into the details of my first enema so that you might feel a little less awkward about yours.
It started with a shower, which seemed like the best place, nice and clean, etc. I figured if any mess happened, it would be easy to clean and I could move on. Well that was sort of true. Only I needed to get the head of the kit into me. Past my rather large cheeks (which like to touch) and into my anus. So I stopped the shower and got out and grabbed a bit of lube. I put it on my anus and finally got the enema in. Great. I squeezed some water into my colon and it felt WEIRD. Let me tell you, there was some air in there (you should maybe squeeze that out before insertion).
But I did okay on the temperature because the water felt like nothing. In fact, I pulled it out to make sure it was working properly. Well, it definitely was. I immediately felt like I had to poop. So I stopped my shower and sat down. There was no poop, just water. But I couldn’t tell because there are no other nerves to tell me WHAT is passing. Just WHEN it’s passing. So I finished passing the gas and water and I hopped into the shower again because I’m paranoid. My roommates were thoroughly confused by this, but they know better than to ask questions.
Once I felt like I was “empty” and there was nothing left to do, I hopped out and dried off. I then played with toys for about an hour because my butt was so clean and ready for play. I enjoyed some dildos, and some butt plugs. I even used my lovely unicorn horn to stretch it. I’m playing with a secret goal to get Double Fisted, so I’m real excited for that anal training.
In short, I was extremely intimidated by my first enema, but now I consider myself a pro at them. It’s a nice way to clean your tush, and this kit is a great price, and easy to use!
This kit was sent to me by the lovely folks at SheVibe in exchange for my fair and honest review. You can purchase it here!