Spectacular

Spectacular, spectacular. No words in the vernacular
Can describe this great event
You'll be dumb with wonderment

I borrowed the words from Moulin Rouge, but they still apply.

After we retired to our bedroom for the night, I settled down in his arms. I asked him if he'd like for me to do more of the heavy lifting for our interaction per Duality's most excellent suggestion, and he turned me down cold. "That doesn't sound nearly as enjoyable." We talked a bit more, and I told him I just didn't want him to wear himself out, that I was okay with working harder.

He thanked me for my concern, reiterated that he was fine, that it wasn't necessary, then started kissing me. Long, slow, languorous kissing that was steamy hot even before his hand made its way to my throat, spread itself there, and squeezed. I made pleased noises into his mouth that got louder as his hand grew tighter, and he kept tightening it. He squeezed probably harder than he's ever done and I made my pleasure at this sensation known with my gasps of delight. "I don't touch you enough," he whispered, letting go of my throat and sliding both of his hands under my nightshirt and all over my body. I purred. He pushed the shirt up over my head and off my body, then kept stroking me heatedly, ending with his hands cupping my breasts.

"I don't give your breasts enough attention either. What do you think?" He squeezed.

I moaned rather loudly, but before I could form words he spoke again. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking it doesn't fucking matter what you think because I can do whatever I want to your breasts. Isn't that right?" He squeezed them again, then lifted them up slightly.

"Oh, yessss," I hissed, clutching at the thin fabric of his T-shirt and closing my eyes as he manipulated my flesh.

"You see this breast?" he queried, circling his hand around the base of my left breast, which was mostly pointed up due to the way I was half on my back, half on my side.

I opened my eyes again to look. "Uh-huh?"

"This breast is mine. I can do whatever I want to this breast. I can suck it," he moved and closed his lips around my nipple, circling it with his tongue and sucking firmly, squeezing the hand that was circling the base. He pulled his mouth away slowly, "I can squeeze it." He squeezed it hard, pinching the nipple a bit, then rubbing his two day's growth of beard against it. He shaves Friday morning before work and then lets it grow until Monday morning expressly for this purpose. So hot. I squirmed in his grasp, constant "ooh, ooh, ooh" sounds escaping from my parted lips.

He let go, said "I can even hit it if I want to." As he spoke, he slapped his hand firmly against my breast, palm centered on my nipple. I jumped, groaning with the impact, and I clutched harder at his shirt. His hand resumed its course of wandering strokes along my body, and I purred, nuzzling against his chest, kissing his throat, plucking more at his shirt.

He pulled away. "How about you get up here on top of me and let me play with those breasts?"

I complied, climbing up and straddling him. I sat up at first, and he stroked my breasts and squeezed my nipples, then he told me to lean down to him. I did, and he took my nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, then pulled away and rubbed his bristles against it. Gravity really makes a difference here. It hurt before, but it really hurt now. I made several soft keening cries as he continued alternating between sucking and rubbing with his bristles, and alternating between my breasts. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes sir," I panted, rocking against him.

"How do you like feeling that hard cock against your pussy?" he humped up against me as he asked, prickling against my nipple.

"I like it a lot," I responded through my gasps.

He continued on like that for several minutes, tugging, sucking, prickling, humping, then allowed me to roll off of him back into his arms, my face pressed against his shirt, my entire body flushed with arousal.

I murmured softly against the fabric: "I really want to touch you."

"You are touching me. Oh, you mean under my shirt?" His fingertips danced along my spine, making me shiver.

"Mmhmm."

"Oh, you want me to take off my shirt?"

"Mmhmm, please." I planted small damp kisses at the base of his throat just above his collar.

"I could do that. But it'd be a favor to you. I'd expect something in return."

"Mmhmm!" Anything.

"Let's see. I could fuck your face."

"Mmhmm."

"I could prop you up and fuck your pussy."

"Mmhmm."

"I could lube you up and fuck your ass."

"Mmhmm."

"But... those aren't really favors you'd owe me. I could just take those things anytime and you'd give them to me anyway. I have to think about this." His hand continued its erotic dance across my nerve endings the whole time he spoke. I rubbed my cheek impotently against the soft fabric of his shirt, and plucked at it again, whimpering. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"Shirt," I whispered, rubbing my palm down his chest over the fabric.

"Oh, yes. I suppose I can go ahead and take it off." He did, and I rubbed my palm over his skin now just as I had the shirt, doing my best to cover him in kisses now that the skin was exposed to me. He reached over to the drawer and started rummaging, and I kissed all over his chest while he did, draping myself across him slightly. He rummaged for a while, apparently having difficulty finding what he was looking for, and I took the opportunity to stroke his hard cock, to cup his balls and gently squeeze, to rub his thighs while I kissed all over his chest.

I was distracted with all the attention I was giving him and barely noticed when he stroked me with the edge of the wooden ruler. He turned more on his side toward me, and I slid my arm under him to stroke his back while I kissed him. The way he moved left me kind of wrapped around him, lips pressed to his side. The result of this position was that my ass was exposed. He hit me there with the ruler, hard. I cringed, curling more around him, a small cry escaping against his skin. He hit me again, and again. "How's that feel?"

"It hurts!" I fastened my lips on his side and sucked gently.

"I bet it does." He struck my ass a few more times, until my cries became very loud. "What do you say?" he asked.

"Thank you?" I responded breathily.

"That sounds nice." My arms were wrapped around him and I squeezed him hard each time he hit me. "Can your ass take it?" he asked.

I shuddered uncontrollably, but nodded. "Yes."

"What about your breast?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Let's find out." He pried me away from him, pushing me back until my left breast was exposed and defenseless. He slid his other arm around my shoulders comfortingly, cupping my left shoulder. I was very, very nervous, and rightly so. He struck me directly on the nipple, hard. I cried out, my hand seeking his free one to grip it tightly. He hit me again, and again, and again, asking me how it felt.

"It hurts, it hurts." My mouth never closed, gasps and pants and cries of pain, by turns soft and loud and excruciating emerged from it.

"I know it hurts. You think you can take it?"

"Mmhmm." I whimpered.

"Good girl." He continued hitting me, it felt like my nipple would explode. I'm rocking here in my chair just remembering the intensity of the blows.

I screamed a couple of times. He murmured against my temple: "I just want to find out if my girl is worthy. Are you worthy?" He hit my nipple each time he said "worthy."

"Yesssssssssss," I hissed through another scream.

"That's my girl." His hand stroked my other nipple in between strikes, and he said "This one's next."

He hit me again, asking "What do you say?"

"Thank you, thank you" I panted helplessly, arching against his blows, squeezing his hand.

"Good girl. Go on, turn onto your back." he pushed me, gentle and rough at the same time. Magic.

I turned, both my breasts now defenseless. He hit the left one again, and again. "Did I say I was done with this one? No." He hit me once more there and I actually thought about my safe word because it was that close to unbearable. I screamed. I was sweating and I couldn't stay still for anything. He transferred his attentions to my right nipple then. "Does your nipple like this?" he asked as he slammed the ruler into it.

"No, no, no," I panted.

"I wouldn't think it would, but you keep thanking me." He smacked it again and again and again and I would have sworn it had exploded like an overripe cherry tomato. My screams were more or less continuous; the intensity was completely overwhelming. Eventually he stopped, again when I was beginning to think about my safe word. He gently caressed my nipples and I jumped and gasped. His hand made its way between my legs and he stroked the folds of my pussy, slick with desire. "You want my cock inside you, don't you?"

"Yes, yes," I gasped.

"I think you've proven yourself worthy. You can suck it now."

I laid there a few more moments while he stroked me, nipples burning, afraid to rest them against anything, afraid to rub them against his legs while I sucked his cock. I moved before he commented, opening my mouth and breathing harshly against the head of his cock.

"What do you say?" he asked me as I slid my tongue around the head.

God. So hot.

"Thank you," I whispered huskily against his cock. "Thank you for hurting my nipples, thank you for letting me suck your cock."

"Good girl." I slid my mouth down onto him, relishing his sounds of pleasure. I sucked, he thrust, I grunted. His hand cupped my chin, spread out under my jaw to feel his cock moving in my throat. He held me tightly there, thrusting into me, then his other hand fisted in my hair. My head was helpless between the two hands that held it prisoner as his erection plundered my willing mouth. He spoke to me, told me what a good cocksucker I am, what a good girl, to suck on it because I'd earned it. He tightened his grip on my hair, tugging ever so slightly on me, moving my head by that slight movement.

This continued for some time. I have no way of telling how long. He let go of my chin and slid his hand down to grip my nipple, which made me go crazy trying to get away from him. "That's right, that's my nipple, I'll do what I want with it. I know it's extra sensitive right now." I bucked, but kept sucking, feeling the drool run out of the corner of my mouth. My brain rocked in its subspace happily.

Eventually he pulled out of my throat. "Come up here and let me hold you while I figure out what else I'm going to do with you." I obeyed, snuggling against his chest. His fingers made their way back to my well-lubricated pussy, and he asked me, "What does this pussy want?"

"Cock." My voice was completely husky with the fucking my face and throat had just endured.

"I bet it does." He delicately stroked my clit with his fingertip, and I bucked my hips against him. "I could get on top of you and fuck your pussy." He lifted the sheet and gazed down my body. "Or I could do something else."

Before I could even fathom what was going on, he was between my legs, pushing my thighs apart and kissing, licking, sucking my pussy, my clit, while his finger slid inside of me. I moaned repeatedly, unbelievably turned on. Another of his fingers slowly, slowly, slowly worked its slippery way into my ass, and I moaned even louder. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohgodohgodohgodohgod" I was nothing but a constant stream of noise and sensation, from my own perspective. Just the noise, from his, I think. He slowly finger-fucked me while licking me, and then his other hand journeyed up to my poor abused nipple, which he squeezed and rolled as was his right. I squirmed helplessly. He lifted his mouth and murmured, "There's an awful lot of noise coming from this girl," before returning to what he was doing. I was lost.

Ages later, he stopped and crawled back up my panting body. "And all you wanted was some cock. Poor thing. I bet you're all worn out now, don't even want this cock anymore. Is that right?"

"No!"

"You still want this cock?"

"Yes, please," I begged, still panting.

"Well, let's get you all propped up and see what we can do." He left me and walked around the bed, grabbing the Liberator ramp and placing it on the bed, then standing there waiting for me. "Go on, be a good girl." I climbed up onto the ramp on my hands and elbows, too weak from all the sex to prop on my hands right then. He loosely held my hips and guided me back onto his cock, which slid easily inside of me as I moaned from the pleasure. He left one hand on my hip and placed the other one on the small of my back, pressing me down even more than I already was due to the shape of the ramp. My tender tender nipples rubbed against the plush fabric with each movement.

He rocked slowly back and forth into me. "How does that cock feel inside of you?"

"Fucking awesome."

"You've earned it."

"It's a very very very nice cock."

"Why thank you." He increased his speed and slammed into me, over and over. He reached down and grabbed a fistful of my hair close to my scalp, pulling my head back toward him. I moaned. "Take that cock, sweet horny little slut," he whispered hotly. I almost didn't catch the words, but then I did and I moaned louder. The very idea of this insanely sexy man actually wanting me, doing these things with me, saying these things to me! I got my hands under me and straightened my arms, my upper body higher now. His hands roamed over my back and sides and ass, gripping me occasionally to hold me still for a hard thrust.

Finally he grabbed my shoulders, bent forward so his chest was pressed to my back, and shuddered to his orgasm, hugging me to him, then running his hands all over my body in that position. He felt incredible. "You want more, don't you?" I purred as response. I would love more. Didn't have to. But would love it.

"You always want more," he whispered to me, kissing the back of my neck and pulling away from me. "How about you let me hold you?" He slipped back onto the bed in front of me and opened his arms.

I laughed. "I'd love that, but I can't actually move right now." my elbow had locked and it felt like if I moved it I'd just fall on my face. Not sexy, that.

"Can I help you?"

"No..no." I rolled sideways, kicked the ramp away, and put my head on his chest.

We talked for a long, long time like that, about how awesome that was for both of us, about how awesome we both are together. "You are really, truly spectacular," I told him, enjoying the husky rasp all the sex had brought to my voice.

"You say such nice things about me. I think you're right though, you have ruined me for other women."

"Mmmm, just as well, love." I stroked his chest adoringly. "Not ever leaving you. Why exactly do you say that?"

"Ordinary sex could never be this exciting."

I purred, delighted.

Later, he said "I hope I didn't damage that ruler too much."

I laughed. "You hope you didn't damage the ruler?"

"Well, I hope you're okay too! But something happened to the ruler."

I looked at it in the morning. The wood actually split while he was using it, and he turned it around and used the other end. He really was hitting me hard. I felt every second of it.

It's okay, we have more!