Incredible

Sometimes he's so incredible he takes my breath away.

He doesn't withdraw from me. I can see, if he were a different man, this tragedy having an adverse affect on our intimacy. I spend a great deal of time crying, great heaving sobs wracking my body. He holds me.

I blew up at something, some stupid exchange yesterday. We were going to work out but the place was being cleaned, and I wanted him to walk faster. I was cold. He was wearing a jacket, and I hadn't worn one because working out generally makes it not necessary until we can get back home.

"It's not that cold!" he told me.

"Says the man wearing a jacket!" I snapped back, and stormed off in the wrong direction. He followed me, all the way back home via the scenic route around the complex. I came in, near tears, and my mom asked why we were back already, if we wanted to watch something. "I want to go to bed," I managed to get out past the blockage in my throat, and swept past her to curl myself into a ball on my bed. She gracefully kept our child with her, and he followed me, wrapped his arms around me as my dam burst and I cried.

He had me turn over so he could hold me better, held me there as I cried, thoroughly wetting his sweatshirt. He whispered sweet words to me, wished that he could make it better. No one can make this better, but he handled this, handled me, so well. He held me there for a long time. I slept a little, but didn't realize it. "Did I sleep?" I asked him, much later.

"A little."

"Did I snore?"

"A little."

We got up and rejoined my mom and our child, I made dinner, we watched a movie.
Later, I bathed, he showered, and we went to bed. I've been wearing pants to bed lately, perhaps pushing a little. He's not really said anything, he has asked why but not really pressed the issue.

He pressed it last night. "How am I supposed to do things to this ass when you keep covering it up?" He pushed the pants down to my knees and started slapping my ass, hard, leaving his hand for a bit after each strike, letting it sink in. I began moaning softly when he hit me, trying to absorb the pain. He stopped using his hand, and switched to the vinyl belt. A new kind of gasp was forced from me as it landed across the tops of my thighs. I had barely adjusted to this when he began brushing the tickler across my sensitized skin.

After the tickler, he hit me with the flogger. It was feeling marvelous and I was not quite floaty, but enjoying it quite a bit. "You like this, don't you?"

"Mmmhmm," I responded lustily.

"Your ass wants more, doesn't it?"

"Mmhmm," I answered.

"You're going to have to work for it." He put the flogger down, rubbed my ass with his hands. "Do you know what that means?"

"Nuh-uh," I said, shaking my head slowly, missing the impacts.

"That means if you want me to hit you more, you need to suck my cock. If you do a good job, I'll hit you some more. Maybe if you don't do a good job, I'll hit you too."

I was next to him, and he was lying on his back. It made for a bit of an awkward position for fellatio, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. The flogger smacked against my ass a few times, and I moaned around his cock. Too quickly, the awkward position was making my jaw hurt, so I tugged on his hip a little, trying to get him to turn on his side. He pulled away, saying "I know." He got the Liberator ramp and put it on the bed. "You can lean on this, and suck my cock." He stood there, the ramp leading up to his erection. I rested against it, delighted at this position, and took him back in my mouth. He grabbed two huge handfuls of my hair and pulled hard, just above my ears. I whimpered as he hit the back of my throat, and pushed past it. My noises ceased as he blocked my throat, and resumed when he withdrew from it. He kept releasing my hair, rubbing the spots where he had pulled, then grabbing and tugging on it again in different places, talking pretty much the whole time.

"I bet your mouth is getting tired, huh?" he asked after an eternity of this. I made a negative noise.  "I don't know, I think you need a break. You want to be able to suck my cock for the rest of your life, don't you?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, then, I think you should turn around and let me fuck your pussy."

I couldn't. His cock was smooth and large and hard and the skin slid between my lips like silk. I pulled away a little, paused to lick it from base to tip, and then found myself devouring it again. He chastised me, and I repeated the action - trying to move away, making a goodbye gesture, then swallowing the whole thing down again. I did this several times.

"You're not really being very obedient right now," he murmured, obviously still enjoying my mouth. His hands in my hair held my head against him and he fucked into my mouth briefly, I couldn't have pulled away then if I had tried.

I finally did manage to pull away. "Good girl," he told me, touching my pussy lightly as I turned around and offered it to him, "ooh, what a wet pussy you have here. Sucking my cock turns you on, doesn't it?"

Well, everyone knows the answer to that.

He held my hips and pressed his cock inside me, both of us responding with deep groans. It was good. I was on my hands and knees on the ramp - which is a difficult position to maintain for any length of time, but so good.

"This is really good," he said to me a few minutes later as he slowly thrust inside me, "but I know what can make it even better for you." His hand crept up my back, into my hair, where he gripped a handful of it tightly and pulled my head back, pushing his cock deeply into me.

"Oh my God," I screamed.

"Oh yeah, that's what it's all about for you, isn't it? I know how you work." His other hand pressed against my throat for a moment, and my breathing changed. Everything was so intense.

I honestly don't know how long he kept fucking me like that, alternating between pulling my hair and sliding his hand underneath me to squeeze my breasts. He hit my ass a few times too. My arms began to tremble from holding the position for so very long. I had given myself many breaks, putting my head down, resting on my elbows, but ultimately I was still wearing out.

"I think you need another break. You need to turn around and suck my cock again."

He said that and then he slowly began to withdraw from me, then he thrust in again, equally slowly. Each thrust seemed like it would be his last, but he kept going, slowly. It felt so amazing and I made a lot of noise about it.

Finally he pulled away, and told me to turn back around. I managed to do it, gratefully collapsing back in front of him, glad I didn't have to prop myself up on my hands anymore but still worn out. I took him back in my mouth.

"Good girl," he told me, holding my head. "I'm going to fuck your ass next," he informed me matter-of-factly as he thrust into my mouth. My throat was beginning to hurt from the use, but I was still enjoying what was going on in the front part of my mouth. My tongue danced, I sucked, I licked, I kissed. He bent over me and used his fingers on my pussy for a few minutes too, which as a position is pretty awesome - it changed the angle of his cock so it could enter my throat a little deeper without irritating the sore parts.

At some point my body just refused to do anything else and my head fell down, dangling off the ramp between his knees. I was limp, done, used absolutely up.

"Oh, your mouth is tired again? That's okay, turn around and give me your pussy."

"Nuh-uh," I shook my head there between his knees, weakened, not seeing how I could pull any more strength from anywhere to do what he asked.

"Aww, are you tired?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do you think I care if you're tired?"

"No," I whispered in a tiny, used-up voice.

"You're right, I don't care. I want to fuck your pussy again and I will. Now turn around and show me that fucking pussy."

I reached down, deep, deep down to an inner reserve I didn't know I had, and I pulled myself back to my elbows and knees, slowly turning around to offer him what he'd asked for. My arms trembled.

He pressed his hardness back inside my slippery pussy, swollen from the previous fucking. I felt every millimeter of it as it invaded me, and I moaned a long moan, pleasure, exhaustion and lingering grief all rolled into one sound. He held my hips and moved me slowly with him, whispering things that I can't recall. It felt lovely, but even my reserves were running out.

"I think I said I'd fuck your ass, didn't I? I think I'll do that now. Go and get me the lube."

I didn't know how I could do it. My arms shook and almost refused to obey me as I dragged myself across the bed to the drawer with the lube in it. I bumped into the flogger, the tickler, and the belt where he had discarded them. I fumbled around until I found the tube of lubricant, and I reversed my course back to him, ass first, much too worn out to turn around, go forward, and turn around again. I passed him the lube as I resumed my position - head down, ass up. He smoothed some lube against my asshole, slipped a finger gently inside, then his cock was pressing inexorably against me. It popped inside and I screamed. "Oh, oh, oh, God, too much, too much, wait, please."

The exhausted muscles in my trembling arms gave out - I fell down. I pulled away from him completely, I couldn't even wait for my sphincter to relax like that. It was too much, it hurt too much. Entirely too long since I'd had a cock there. I curled onto my side next to the ramp, near the foot of the bed, too exhausted to move at all.

"You want me to join you there?" Checking to see if I'm okay, but not overtly enough to ruin the dynamics of the scene.

"Yes, please." I was exhausted, panting with the effort I'd expended so far, but I still wanted this, wanted him.

"It's so hard, being fucked, isn't it?" He curled up behind me, pressing his warmth against my back, his arm snaking around my front and cupping a breast. "You think I care if you're about to collapse? I'm going to fuck your ass anyway," he whispered in my ear, causing a thrill to shoot through my entire being.

He did. I was too exhausted to do anything but take it and moan. It did actually feel good this time. A few minutes in, he started slapping my breast, just upping the intensity enough to make me bite back a few screams. "Take it, take it, take what I give you," he kept telling me, slapping my breasts and continuing to thrust inside my ass, his other hand pulling my hair. His movements inside me made my boneless, exhausted body rock like a doll. "Good little fuck toy," he whispered, pulling me to him and panting as well as he emptied himself inside of me.

"Good girl," he told me, pulling me close, his hands roaming my skin. I couldn't move. We were lying across the foot of our bed, and it looked as if we might have to stay there for a while because I couldn't move. He shoved the ramp off of the bed, asked me if I was okay. I asked for a blanket, and he pulled our comforter over us, whispering lovely things to me and continuing to stroke me.

I eventually managed to rotate enough to approximate a normal sleep position. He's a tall man, lying across the bed wouldn't work even if his head was all the way across it - and I had collapsed about midway.

We fell into a very satisfied sleep, his arms wrapped around me and my head tucked against his shoulder.

Today, my chest and arms burn. I told him this, and he told me: "You're welcome."

So much love.