Identities (Omnihim)

It sucks, being forcefully reminded of something that you'd (probably willfully) let slip out of your consciousness. That sinking feeling of everything rushing back, cynicism and disappointment, thoughts and observations and an entire body of negative experience ramming their way through temporary (more or less blissful) ignorance to settle like sludge in your brain.

I'll get to the point soon, but first -- rewind.

My First DP, Or: On How I Became Cock Crazy [Omniher]

As many bi people will tell you, one is rarely ever attracted both cocks and cunts equally.  Sometimes this means that you spend all of your life being attracted to one and flirting with the other on occasion, sometimes it means that you'll take either gladly but have a slight preference for one.  Often preference changes.

Myself?  Well, I tend to hang out around the 'either's good, both is better' part of the spectrum, with a slight preference for cunts.  Most of my long term relationships have generally been with guys, simply by virtue of the fact that there are far more straight/bi guys in this world than lesbian/bi girls so there is far more chance of me finding a compatible mate in the former group.  But when it comes to fucking other people I'm all about the girls.  Oh, you have a penis?  That's nice dear, hope it makes you happy.  There's a slim to none chance that I'm going to like it better than Mr O's fabulous specimen, so don't waste my time.  You have a cunt?  Well why the fuck are your clothes still on?  Sit on my face now!  That is, until this week.  Suddenly I am cock crazy and can't get enough of it.

Why this sudden change?  You could say it was part of the natural fluctuation that one experiences.  You could say that it was because I've just come out of a relationship with a very selfish cunt that didn't like fucking me nearly as much as I liked fucking it (or was just too lazy to be bothered returning the favour?).  Or you could say that it was because last Monday I experienced my first ever DP. 

Conflict of interest: to tell or not to tell? [Omniher]

I am currently living in a happy little bubble.  Mr O, Miss Lovely and myself have spent several weekends together just hanging out, having lots of sex (obviously!), eating out, staying in, cooking, drinking, and so on.  We've been able to talk about it on Twitter, with each other, and we even took her to a friend's birthday party this past weekend where we knew that we could all be affectionate with each other without raising too many eyebrows.

But I know it can't last.  The only reason we have been able to spend so much time together over the past couple of weeks is that her housemate (who is also and more importantly a family member) has been away on holiday.  Hence no questions on where she's been or why she's spending so much time with us.  Hell, I'm sure there's already been a few questions after Miss L has stayed over at our place for the umpteenth Saturday night in a row.

I know Mr O intends to write a blog post about this and many other things shortly and so don't want to go into that specifically.  Its up to her how she handles it really anyway (with as much support from us as she wants/needs).  What it has got me thinking about is my family.

A Torturous Day in the Life of Miss O [Omniher]

Yesterday started out like any other: kick Mr O out of bed as the alarm is blaring and he's begging for "Just 5 more minutes of cuddles...", walk the dog, do the other little morning things that you do...  Except we knew it was different.  After what seemed like an eternity (read: three days) we were going to be seeing Miss Lovely again.  And not just for the night, but she would be in our home, in our bed for the next six days.  The three of us were all a little giddy at the prospect.

Lying in bed looking for an excuse not to get up I sent her a text.  I told her about how I planned to play orgasms for chores but was worried I'd wear myself out before the evening's festivities.  Now I swear she has been spending too much time around Mr O and  his sneaky evil ways are wearing off on her, becuase this is the response I got:

I think you should play the game, but just bring yourself to the brink of an orgasm each time...  Then come and meet me for drinks :)

How We Have Become Completely Spoiled [Omniher]

I've tried posting about the couple we met the weekend I ended up in hospital several times now, and just can't seem to finish.  Perhaps because they were just ... so ...   Well maybe this exchange will explain better than I could:


[me] Can't believe how sex-crazed I am at the moment, being in hospital for a week has made me wild!
[him] I know.  Well I guess it's understandable as you haven't come since last Friday...
[me] Did I?  Did we fuck on Friday?  I can't even remember the last time...
[him] doesn't know whether to laugh or not What were we doing last Friday?
[me] Um..?  Oh yeah!  Right!
[him] Well, they obviously made a big impression on you...

And with that, this post took a completely different direction to what I had intended.  I had been meaning to give a blow-by-blow account of the tryst and preceding flirtations, but this has ended up being a reflection on how we have become spoiled.

Hospital Tales to make you Laugh, Cry and Rant! Omniher

Well hello all, its good to be back!  Thank you for all of your kind thoughts and wishes over the last week.

As the Twitterati will know, this blog has been neglected due to my recent hospital stay, but I am home now and have so much to share with you from the past couple of weeks!  Our date with the odd couple the day before I was admitted, progressions in the Miss Lovely saga...  But I thought I'd start with a random collection of hospital anecdotes, some funny and some seriously rant-worthy.  Enjoy!

Miss Lovely and Omnihim: what happens when it goes wrong [Omniher]

Probably the most intimate and personal thing I have ever written and here it is, my second ever blog post and out there for the world to see.  I write not to blame and/or shame, but as a catharsis and an exploratory journey through thought processes.  I wanted to explain what happened to myself as much as anyone else, and as a result of my over analysing mind this has gotten really long...  But there's a happy ending, promise!  Please be warned that the following contains a liberal amount of swearing and sexually explicit content.  Although I guess for most of you that's just an incentive to read on!  - Omniher xx

Around 1 am last Saturday night, I finally drifted into a state of semi-sleep.  My body was on fire; I could feel the welts from the carpet beater rising on my back (I often describe the pain as being like a ring of angry bull-ants on steroids all biting at the same time, over and over), the short, criss-crossed lines of a wooden spoon handle across the fronts of my legs, the sprinkling of dots all up my left side and torso from where the horsehair and suede floggers had whipped around after dancing across my back, and the thick and brutal marks of a studded leather belt over my buttocks, all co-mingling to ensure no sleeping position was without incredible discomfort.

Suddenly, I awoke to the sound of urgent fucking.

And I was furious.