Endless orgasms revisited

I debated for a bit on whether my readers would prefer me to write my post today about the sex we had Saturday night, or a nice anal plug + online toy shop review.

I decided on the sex.

Anal plug review can wait, right, guys? Right?

Disclaimer: what happened between us was so much more awesome than I can describe. I can't remember half of it because the intensity of things that happened later just wiped it all. Just imagine what I write and multiply it by 15 or so levels of amazing, and that's it.

I didn't know what would happen. He'd gone so far beyond my wildest imaginings on Friday night that I just couldn't even consider anything else. I thought perhaps a reset, maybe even just snuggling. We read two more chapters of The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty in bed, me curled into his arms as we alternated holding my Nook up above us. His hands wandered over my bare breasts, my neck, and shoulders as we read, and I purred. He'd pinch a nipple once in a while and I'd moan softly with the beautiful burst of pain. I could feel him grow hard and softer by turns as we read; I'm not sure if that was the reading or what he was doing to me.

We finished the two chapters and we kissed, our hands gently running over each other, his hand occasionally tightening in my hair.

His fingers wandered to my clit and he began to stroke it delicately. My mouth opened against his as he continued, and I started to pant as I got wetter and wetter. 

"Slut," he murmured softly against my lips, "you just need to be touched in this one little spot, and nowhere else." He stroked me there, so very gently, until I orgasmed. I was panting and I wondered what on earth he was trying to accomplish as he continued stroking me, pushing another orgasm out of me, balancing me on the knife's edge of extreme arousal and pushing me over it, over and over and over. He slid some fingers in and out of me as I got wetter, and the waves of unbearable pleasure kept crashing onto me.

He was doing a lot of kissing me too, as I screamed my orgasms into his mouth. 

"I can't, I can't take anymore," I begged him.

"Mmm... sure you can," he said, his fingers trapping my clit and pushing it gently back and forth, forcing another orgasm from my sweat-soaked body. I arched up into his touch and screamed, shaking uncontrollably. "See, look at you take it," he whispered against my ear.

I cannot tell you how many orgasms he gave me, because I was having them. After a while, I was enduring them as I screamed and vibrated. Afterward, I asked him, breathlessly, to try fisting me, because I was already insanely wet and all those orgasms surely had led me to a place where I could take more. 

He got the lube, and made his fingers and his hand all slippery, and he slipped two fingers inside me, then three. "You ready for another one?" he asked softly.

"Yes," I whispered. I'd taken four before, but it's a lot. He worked the fourth one into me gently and I cried out. 

"You ready for more?" he asked, careful, observing me, his thumb playing against my oh-so-sensitive clit while it waited to join the fingers inside me.

"Yes," I confirmed through my moans. He placed his thumb alongside his other fingers and he pushed them all inside me. His hand was sticking.

"So fucking big!" I gasped out, taking the lube from where he'd dropped it and applying it all around his hand, taking the opportunity to feel how much of it was in me. Most of it. He worked it out and in a little more, pressing hard, and I felt more of the slender bulk of it slide inside me, aided by the fresh lube. My pussy ached terribly. "It feels like you're tearing me apart," I moaned.

I reached down again and felt just the very widest part of his hand sticking out. The rest of it was completely inside me. I groaned with that knowledge. He wriggled his fingers inside me. Too much. I squealed. I squeezed my pussy around his hand, the unyielding bone of it just under his flesh resisting my tightness.

He pushed, withdrew, pushed again. It wasn't going any farther. Maybe if we had all night and another tube of lube. That was okay, it felt amazing just like that... and to be honest the idea of pulling it back out again once it was in was kind of terrifying.

He made me orgasm again, pulling his thumb back out and playing it over my clit while his other four fingers moved in and out of me, filling me up, talking to me.

And again.

He finally removed his hand, which made me scream too, pulled me into his arms and was almost asleep.

"If you wake up horny, love, I'm here for you," I told him, dropping little kisses on his chest, my body slick with the sweat from the orgasms and the hugeness of his hand.

I tell him that a lot. I don't ever expect anything to come of it, but it's true. 

A little over an hour later, he did wake up, running his hands over me, making me purr. I felt his cock growing against my hip and I quickly turned my back to him, bending forward, pressing my still-wet pussy back against his cock. "Ooooh," he said, clearly liking this, "is there a pussy here just waiting for me?" 

'Mmmhmm," I purred as he slid his cock completely into me, rubbing all the extra-sensitive spots that his fingers had pressed into earlier.

"Good girl," he praised me, his lower hand grabbing my hair and his top hand gripping my hip firmly as he slowly rocked inside me. "Good fuck toy. Love having my fuck toy.." I moaned at his words, enjoying it all. So, so good. I was surprised at how very tight I still felt after his hand had stretched me so much. He moved so deliberately, he spoke so clearly, distinctly. I couldn't believe he'd been asleep just moments before.

He talked beautifully but what came after wiped it all from my head. 

His orgasm came, and I wriggled back against him, gasping "I love it when you use me," thinking he would just go back to sleep now he'd had his pleasure. But he was very much awake, and his fingers pushed their way back to my clit, back inside my pussy, and he rose up over me on one arm, his fingers once again performing the relentless orgasm dance, making me scream, arch, moan, tremble, shake uncontrollably, did I mention scream? He bit my nipples while he forced the orgasms out of me, which I love. I was begging him to please, please stop, that I couldn't take anymore, between paroxyms of joy, bouts of screaming and the even more intense variety of silent scream. 

Dozens of orgasms later, "No, no, no," I begged as one of the last ones crashed over me.

"You don't get to say no, you just get to take it," he told me, making me scream even louder.

He pulled his fingers out of me, just delicately strumming my clit once again. "I think you like orgasms," he whispered.

"Uff, uff, mmhmm, I do," I responded, my body helplessly undulating with the tiny motions of his finger against my sensitive place.

"Mmm, well have yourself another one," he said, pushing me, screaming, limbs waving, off the cliff for the umpteenth time that night.

Finally, finally, he let me down gently. I gasped for air, unbelieving this entire episode had even happened.

"I like to make you feel good," he told me as I kissed all over his chest before we drifted off, totally exhausted.

The king of understatement, that's my man.