Friday, April 27, 2012

Sex after the show

My husband helps me when I wax my armpits, which honestly I don't do that often. I can't keep the tension up on my skin and pull, and so I hold  my arm up and he pulls. I knelt next to him and he yanked, hard and fast, and all the hair left my sensitive skin. I rocked with the pain as if from a blow. When I do it in small patches it doesn't hurt that much and I actually really enjoy it, but this was all of it in one go.

It turns me on.

"You're good at pulling out my hair," I whispered to him a little while later, as we snuggled into the bed together. It had been a long evening; we'd been out to a show and then come home after 11:00.

"I'm good at just pulling your hair too," he told me, pulling me toward him, threading his fingers through my hair and tugging. I curled into him instinctively, though my exhaustion threatened to claim me. His other hand roamed all over my body with the complete confidence of ownership. "I like pulling your hair," he said, as his hand roamed to my breast and he pinched my nipple, hard and slow.

"Ohhhhh," my mouth opened in a circle of pained surprise. Thoughts of sleep fled as I arched into his touch. I was still exhausted, but he was going to take what he wanted and that was powerfully arousing.

"I like pinching your nipples. I like slapping your breasts," he said as he flipped his hand back and did just that, making me jump and move back against him. "I like making you squirm and make noises."

He slapped the top of my thigh and I jumped at the sudden intense pain. "Oh fuck," I half screamed, half whispered.

"Oh, are you sensitive there?" his voice dripped false solicitude, and he shoved my thighs apart and hit me again on the inner thigh, eliciting the same reaction. "You really shouldn't let a man hit you where you're sensitive." He slapped my breasts several times, alternating his strikes between them. "Mine!" he crowed as an exultant aside, before continuing his little speech. "You should probably find some man who'll take better care of you." I was squirming as he alternated blows and caresses, the two kinds of pleasure mingling together and setting my brain afire. I was gasping, groaning, whispering "oh fuck" a lot.

There is no man to take better care of me, I thought, but didn't have the presence of mind to say.

"You must trust a man an awful lot to let him do all these things to you." He slapped my right breast over and over and I could feel my nipple begin to really burn.

"I do, but you're not a very nice man," I whispered as I shuddered, a moan escaping me at each strike to my flesh.

"Oh? Why is that?" he sucked my nipple in to his mouth and bit down lightly, pinching the other one. I cried out. "Hmm? Why am I not a nice man?"

I tossed my head back and forth as he hit me, waiting for his answer. "It's not nice to hurt people," I finally managed between my gasps of mingled pain and pleasure.

"Oh, no, it's not. But you're not exactly 'people,' are you?" He slapped my breast right on the nipple several times. "And I don't remember there being anything wrong with hurting property."

"Oh, fuck," I said, his words hitting me right where they were aimed, in the pit of my stomach, curling hot fingers of need there. I opened my legs as far as possible in a not-subtle-at-all hint, craving his touch there. His hand stroked down my body from my tingling, burning nipple to my pussy, and his finger dragged the pooled wetness from my opening to my clit. I gasped loudly and arched up against his touch.

"Ooh, wet little slut," he whispered with pleasure. "I bet you want something in here," he said, sliding a finger inside me to my very loud agreement. A second finger joined the first inside me. "I bet you're aching for a hot, hard cock in here, aren't you?" He thrust his fingers slowly, teasing my clit with his thumb.

"Please," I begged, incoherent from desire.

"Please what, slut?"

I whimpered, humping into his hand.

"Come on, let me hear it."

I continued whimpering. "Please fuck me," I finally managed to beg.

"Oh, is that what you want? Of course that's what you want, cock slut." He moved on top of me and rubbed his cock against my pussy, pressing just the head inside me and rocking his hips. "Feel my cock, baby? It's getting wet inside you. You're so fucking wet." His thrusts got slowly deeper as his cock lubricated itself inside me, as I responded to each of his sentences with a loud moan. "It's going to fuck you now. How much have you been thinking of this cock fucking you today, baby?"

"Oh, fuck," I gasped out as he sank inside me fully, pinning me down, his slim weight pressing me into the mattress, "a lot, I've been thinking of it a lot." I pressed my heels down into the bed and rotated my hips against him, squeezing him inside me. So fucking good.

"Of course you have. You're a cock slut, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically as he raised up on his hands and began thrusting hard and fast.

I grabbed my ankles and pressed my heels against his shoulder blades, rocking with him.

"Oh, what a good girl, to offer up your fuck hole to me like that. My fuck hole. Mine." We moved like that for a while, his mouth seeking mine and claiming it in a series of long, searing kisses. My ankles began to ache and I opened my legs wider, holding them up in the air on either side of him.

"Quite the slut, aren't you, holding your legs up like that for me to fuck your hole? That's what you're for, isn't it, for me to fuck?"

So incredibly graphic, his language almost obscene, and he was talking about me. No, that can't be me he's talking about. Yes, fuck, yes, it is.

"I'm for you to fuck," I agreed, and something about that phrase caught my voice and I kept repeating it, over and over, gasping it out breathlessly. Somewhere in the midst of all of that an orgasm overtook me, spasms rocking me as he moved slowly inside of me. "I love you so much," I remember whispering as the spasms subsided.

He kissed me again and again, and I ground up into him, once again pressing my feet into the mattress for better leverage. He grew louder as his orgasm approached, and he pressed deeply inside of me as his cock pulsed, grinding extra gasps of pleasure out of me.

He rolled off of me and pulled me into his arms, stroking my hair and whispering lovely things to me.

"That was fucking amazing," I whispered against his chest, breathing hard, completely owned in that moment.

We fell asleep very quickly.


  1. Dayum Girl!!!!! Makes me feel soooo much better about being "not exactly people." you got me planning and scheming, lol. The weekend is almost here :)

    1. Somehow it feels like Thursday to me. Thank you for the huge grin you just plastered to my face!

      It's good sometimes to not exactly be people. :) I hope your weekend goes along with your plans and schemes!

  2. Wow. Very, very hot.


  3. I've said it before, but I'll say it again... your husband talks so well... never underestimate the power of the auditory stimulation. :)

    1. Oh no, we certainly don't. :) Enough hard work to get there, I appreciate every syllable of it.


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