Not a proper review

We had a brief argument about something stupid, and I flipped off into the bedroom. I changed into something filmy and basically transparent and went to bed, and my husband joined me there. He made short work of flipping me onto my back and shoving my filmy transparent nightie up over my breasts, and he started sucking my nipple. Once it was hard, he pulled his mouth away and started rubbing his day's growth of beard against it. I groaned.

"How's that feel?" he asked me.

"Mmm, mmm, it hurts," I complained.



"Really? Hm. Well, rumor has it," he kept rubbing his prickly chin against me, "that you like being hurt."

I asked where he'd heard such a rumor as that, he told me the rumor mill. Then, "But I don't hear you denying it." He reached the hand not holding my breast still for his prickles over to pinch my other nipple hard. "I'd think that a girl who didn't like to be hurt would be protesting right about now." He rasped, and pinched, and I moaned, but still didn't say anything. "Now, if I could only think of some way to hurt you... oh! That's right."

I heard him digging in the drawer and I wondered what he was after. I felt him brush the wooden ruler over my breasts and I gasped. That bastard really fucking hurts. It left a huge purple mark on my breast last time he used it. He hit me with it, lightly, and asked if it hurt. I said it didn't, he tried a few more strokes to which I merely responded "nuh-uh," and then when it finally did hurt, like I had thought it would, it really hurt. I said "yes!" to indicate that it did hurt, and he responded "oh, yeah?" he gave me a few more like that on each breast, couldn't have been more than five. I was barely restraining myself from screaming, and I started sweating almost immediately. On the final blow, I squealed loudly and twisted, gripping the fingers of his free hand tightly in mine. He stopped then, and stroked me gently, murmuring words of encouragement.

He rummaged again, and then I felt the cool brush of nylon against my skin. The flogger. I've mentioned before that I've had to restrain a giggle the first time he hits me with it. Not this time. His first blow landed squarely across my breast and shoulder, and it hurt. I moaned and arched my back toward him, trying to make a better target of myself. He commented on it while he hit me: "You're not even trying to get away.. if I didn't know better, I'd think you were putting yourself in harm's way." I panted agreement, and he flogged my chest and shoulders for a long, long time, talking about what a dirty slut I am and how good girls don't like being hurt, eliciting moans and groans and gasps and "yes sirs" from me.

He took a rest afterward and placed the flogger between my breasts while he stroked my body. He pulled my leg out toward him, bending it so my inner thigh was exposed, and he stroked me there. I purred. He said "Mmm, I bet you're sensitive here." I agreed that I was. "I bet it'd really hurt if I flogged you here..." his sentence trailed off as he ran his fingers lightly back and forth across the soft flesh. He picked the flogger up from my chest and then he struck my thigh with it, pretty hard. A gasp emerged from me, unbidden. He pulled my leg out more, pushed my other leg away so both inner thighs were exposed, and set about really flogging me there. He occasionally stopped and brushed the flogger against my skin. I felt his hardness against my lower leg. "I know that hurts... and you're still not trying to avoid it. You're turning me on a lot, you know. I must be a bad man." I agreed with him, he kept talking and flogging. "Look at you. All bare breasted, legs wide open while I flog you.. what a fucking slut." I moaned and twisted, very very aroused.

"I bet you're pretty turned on too.." he dropped the flogger and dragged his finger slowly up my slit. "Oh, yeah.. that's one wet pussy you have there. I bet it'd like some cock, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, yess.." I moaned.

"That's too bad, because I'm more interested in fucking your face right now." He pulled his hand away from my pussy and tangled it in my hair, dragging my head to his cock and shoving my face down onto him with both hands. I opened and took him in, making all kinds of noises. "Yeah, that's a good slut, let me fuck your face, take it, take it," he urged me as he shoved my head down, then held it in place while he fucked up into my mouth. He let me up for a moment and I had a brilliant idea and got the Liberator ramp for him to recline on so he could fuck my face and see better. It also left his hands more able to grasp and control my head. He held my head and fucked up into me, and when he would tire of that he moved my head up and down, and when he tired of that, he told me to suck it.

He decided he'd had enough after twenty minutes or so, and said "I think I'm ready to fuck that pussy now." I moaned, but kept sucking as he'd offered no instructions. He asked me "Are you going to get that pussy into position so I can fuck it?" and I had no idea what position he wanted, so I asked.

"Hmm. Like you haven't thought about it?" Oh, I had. I really had. The Liberator ramp/wedge had come in  just that day and I'd been daydreaming about using them this way ever since. But he said it explicitly: "How about I get off the bed and stand up, and you get on this thing and let me fuck you like that?"

Ohhhh yeah. I stacked the wedge on top of the ramp and presented myself across it. I couldn't touch the floor with my feet anymore, which added to the helpless feeling of the position.

So it took some wriggling as we hadn't done it before, and he made me beg for it once he got it close, but he eventually relented and then he was inside of me.

Pounding.

I grabbed the soft velvety plushness of the sides of the ramp to hang on, and I bent my knees and lifted my legs up behind me, on either side of him.

Pounding.

He grabbed my ankles and held them for a while, squeezing. I moaned and cried out and generally made more noise than I can ever remember making. He told me what a nasty girl I was, how good I felt, what a horny fucking slut I was to offer myself to him on a platter like that. He said "You're mine, slut," and he grabbed my long hair in both his hands and pulled on it, lifting my head off the ramp and back toward him. He kept me in that position for the rest of the session.

My voice broke and I practically screamed, "Yes, yes, I'm your slut, fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckme.." and I kept chanting that until he was finished with me. He collapsed atop me and we laid draped across the ramp/wedge like that, completely and totally spent, me panting like a heat-struck dog until he asked me if I thought I could move to snuggle with him.

I shuddered with aftershocks for a good ten minutes.

My God.