Sucking, sliding, gasping, choking, gagging.
At your earliest convenience.He read it, I saw him read it. But no real response, and I always feel like an idiot afterward, when I send him something and he doesn't respond. Like something's wrong with me, like I should show a little self-control, not try and draw him into my perverted place when he's busy being a person. He doesn't do anything to make me feel like that, but that's what my brain does.
We sat around a while while he did some work, and eventually, a pain struck me in my right breast. WTF. I rubbed the place where it hurt, and it hurt again, and kept hurting like a great big bruise was being pressed.
Pretty much killed my mood. I got up and headed to the bedroom, cupping my breast gingerly.
"I'll join you in a few moments, love," he said as I walked past him.
"Don't bother," I responded, hurting, not wanting him to stop what he was doing just because I'd left the room - and yes, still feeling like an idiot for having sent the message in the first place.
I went to bed and curled into a ball with my hand clasped to my breast, facing the wall.
He followed almost on my heels, brushed his teeth, came to lie in the bed next to me. He spoke to my back, resting his hand on my side. "You know, for a submissive girl, you sure are demanding."
"What the hell?"
"Well, you're all irritated, like 'my convenience' was supposed to be sooner."
"What the hell?" Yeah, I wasn't particularly articulate, since I go out of my way not to be demanding and I was more or less dumbfounded. "No, no, I'm hurting and I don't like it." I had told him when the pain hit my breast. I didn't mention the part about how I felt like an idiot.
"And that's all?"
"Oh. Well, in that case." He started spanking my ass, pretty hard. Little "mmf" noises escaped me, and I rolled onto my stomach to present a better target. It felt like there was quite a bit of aggression behind those smacks, a lot of follow through and quite a bit of sting. My bottom began to feel very very warm.
He rummaged in the drawer next to the bed. The flogger smacked across my upturned ass then, and I moaned. He kept it up for a while, until it started to really hurt and my moans became little whimpers of endurance.
Finished, he spoke. "Now that I've taken care of your ass, I think it's time for you to take care of my cock." He stretched out on his back, and when I turned over, I saw his erection bobbing. I remembered what I'd wanted earlier and I wanted that cock in my mouth right then. I moved so I was kneeling next to his head and I slowly took the head in my mouth, swirling my tongue, sucking, getting it wet enough so that sliding down more was possible. I sucked it into my mouth a bit at a time, pulling back and pushing forward again. Eventually I was pressing him into my throat, which convulsed and attempted to reject the cock even as I forced myself forward.
He had his hand in my hair and his other hand on my ass, and he grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled, and fucked into my mouth. Too much! I gagged, pulled away for a breath. "Keep sucking, slut!" he told me. Like I'd had any intention of stopping. I went back for more, hungrily, making lots of noises.
Eventually my throat was tired, and I turned around, climbed between his legs, held myself up on my arms, but kept sucking. He kept complimenting me, telling me what a hot mouth I had, and he was making his own noises.
"I bet your pussy is getting pretty jealous, huh?" he asked.
For response I moaned, straddled his leg, and humped his knee, spreading the copious amounts of fluid I was producing against his skin. He groaned, tightening his fists in my hair. "Oh yeah, that's a wet pussy you have there." Felt pretty awesome to me. I kept rubbing myself against his leg while I sucked. I'd've been happy to stay there like that. He had other ideas.
"I think I want pussy now."
He always says that the first time, but never stops humping my face, never pulls me away. I kept doing what I was doing, kind of lost in a cloud of arousal.
"Get up here and give me that pussy," he said, pulling my hair hard. I moved over him and sank down easily due to plentiful lubrication, and we moved together like that. My wrists were already hurting from the amount of time I'd been propped on my hands sucking cock, but somehow I managed. I kept taking little breaks, resting on my elbows. "Kiss me!" he demanded, and I did, wetly, languorously, while my hips made little circles against him.
Some time later he had me move on my side so he could take me from behind. I lifted my top leg over his, and then I bent it so my heel met my ass. He thrust into me, reaching around my bent leg to stroke my clit, causing more and more moans to pour out of my mouth.
He pressed a finger inside my pussy with his cock, and I cried out. "Oh, God!"
"Oh, you like that, huh?"
"Too full, too full," I panted, trying hard to deal.
"Too full? Oh, you're not too full. Just take it, slut." He pressed a second finger alongside the first and I all but screamed.
"Now I bet you're too full. One finger seems like nothing now, huh?" He kept thrusting inside of me, just holding his fingers there, and I moaned a long, soft, keening moan, but made sure not to complain.
This. This. God, this is one of my biggest freaking turn-ons, to be too full and be forced to take more just because I complained. My brain overloaded. I can't really tell what happened after this. I remember some anal sex, shoving my hand at the base of my thumb into my mouth and biting it to hold back my cries as he penetrated and filled me, but I don't know if it was this night or another one.
I remember being very sore afterward.
Is it possible to feel like an idiot for feeling like an idiot?
Yeah, that's me.