Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Mother's day

I lay panting, exhausted from multiple orgasms he'd brought me with his fingers, breathless from the blowjob I'd just given him, on Mother's day morning.

"You okay?" he asked me.

"I don't know what brought all that on?"

"Well, it's sex that made you a mother in the first place," he explained.

"Not that kind of sex."

Insert full day of lazing around, watching movies, reading, playing, kissing in the bedroom, kissing in front of the TV, mmmm, kissing in the kitchen. I cut his hair, which I enjoy doing a lot. Fun!

Then it was bedtime again, and I nestled into his arms and in between kissing we talked for a long time, about sex, masturbation, desire, porn, bloggers, life and the post I'd just written. "I'd wondered when you were going to finish that," he said.

The conversation between kisses got shorter, the kissing sessions got longer. And then he was touching my body lightly, the way that I love, chasing gooseflesh all over my skin. He traced around my breasts delicately with his fingertips, purposefully avoiding my nipples. He gripped my left wrist in his left hand, and my right was trapped between his thighs where I had been touching him much the same way he was touching me. I gasped and groaned and arched under his expert touch, tugging at my wrist, wanting desperately to touch my own nipples. He tightened his grip every time I tried to pull away, just causing me to become more and more aroused.

"Do your nipples want to be touched, baby?" he asked.

"Yess," I groaned, arching my back to try to move a nipple in range of his hand.

His fingertips grazed across one of my stiff nipples and I moaned. Fuck, that felt good. He gripped it and pinched it hard, quickly, the sweetness of the pain bursting across my consciousness in a flash, before he did the same to the other one, and then continued his teasing.

He trailed his hand down my body, let one finger slide between the folds of my pussy. I lifted my hips into the caress and sighed deeply.

"Oooh, wet slut, aren't you?" he asked, letting his fingertip lightly, lightly, brush the wetness over my clit. I bucked and inhaled sharply. He kept playing with me like that, gently, lightly, talking to me about how very wet I was. I felt his cock growing against my right hand and I held it, squeezing when I had the presence of mind.

I was tossing my head back and forth, nearly out of my mind. "I bet you want me to fuck you with that cock," he said, as he traced his finger gently around my opening. "Right here."

I grunted and nodded. He moved his finger back to my clit and I squealed, arching up, sensation overcoming me. "Mmm, I dunno. Look at you. So fucking sensitive from just my finger. I don't think it's too healthy to fuck you when you're so fucking horny..."

I groaned, burying my face against his neck. "Please..." I whispered. He kept talking and I kept whispering "please," stroking his cock with my hand.

Eventually he said "You know what I think? I think you don't care about how healthy it is. I think you just want this cock to fuck you. Am I right?"

"Yes, pleease..." I whispered one more time, thrusting my hips upward against his finger. All this arousal he's generated in me with just a couple of fingertips and some words. I swear it's magic.

"Slut," he whispered as he climbed on top of me. He made me beg a little more with his cock pressed right to my obviously needy pussy. I gasped at the sensation of him burying himself inside me.

"This is my pussy. And this is my slut attached to it."

My blood roared in my ears. I probably made a noise; I know I had to have a physical reaction. He probably even said more words in the minutes following, but that line just kept repeating in my head and I bucked underneath him.

When the blood rushing and the echo of his words faded, he was saying something else. "...there's a hard cock in your pussy. Or did you miss that?"

"Uh-huh, uh... nuh-uh, nuh-uh. I noticed," I finally managed to get with it enough to respond.

"Mmm, good. I'd hate to think I was the only one enjoying myself."

So good, I thought to myself. What can I do to make this better for him? 'cause, you know, he's so fucking awesome he's regularly blowing my mind. And so, I bent my knees and grabbed my ankles, bringing my feet up next to his sides and opening myself fully to him.

"Fuck, yeah, you just wanna give yourself to me, don't you, slut?" he asked, thrusting faster. He leaned down into me, his lips right next to my ear as we moved against each other, and he whispered roughly: "Mmm, good pussy. Take it, pussy. Gooood fuckhole."

I moaned loudly in response and my thighs trembled, too aroused by this entire situation to hold that position, so I brought my feet together over his back and I stayed like that, legs around him, bucking with him, until I felt his breathing quicken. I put my feet back down on the bed so I had more leverage to move under him, I grabbed his ass and pulled him into me just a little extra on each thrust, and before long he was shuddering and crying out himself as he orgasmed.

And then the fantastic man I married spent just as long pleasuring me afterward as he had before. The light touches, his fingers inside me, pressing against my g-spot, making me scream. I turned over onto all fours halfway through and he shoved his thumb inside me, which I love so much. "Take it, bitch!" he said  as he did it, quickly, taking me by surprise and making me cry out.

Sometimes orgasm seems like an impossible goal for me for whatever reason and it just doesn't matter all that much because I do have lots of them, but he seemed pretty determined to get me there this time. I screamed into the pillow as his fingers worked their magic on me, and then again, and then a third time, for luck or I don't know why but it was fantastic.

Awesome Mother's day.


  1. The more you give the more you get...

    Those are the best types of relationships. Good girl, Conina.

    1. I do my best.

      I enjoy our relationship a lot. :) Thank you.

  2. Conina,

    Now that is the way to celebrate Mother's Day. Thank you for sharing.


    1. Thank you! I thought it was damn fine, myself.

      Now just to think of something for Father's day...

  3. Glad you had a nice Mother's Day! :)

  4. See, that's why I don't understand women that complain about sex. When done right, it's awesome, lol.

  5. "But maybe it's fair to say it was a lack of communication," as BNL once sang.

    I think our culture has a lot of shame about sex - you're either supposed to be really good at it and like it a lot, or shut up because if you're not enjoying it, you're doing something wrong. Not that you and your lover just need to talk more, to find out what makes each other tick. In a lot of people's minds, sex is some kind of cookie-cutter, one size fits all experience, when in fact it's more of an individually crafted, tailored experience.

    People don't like to be wrong, and in my experience and those I've read of others, they have a lot of problems just speaking up and saying "You know, this would be a lot better for me IF..." because that makes either them or their partner wrong.

    But truthfully, I bet even the people who are happy with the cookie cutter off-the-rack sexual experience could enjoy themselves a lot more if they'd tailor it a bit.

  6. Happy Mother's Day, Conina! Sounds like it was a great one for you!


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