Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Set straight

I spent a good chunk of yesterday reading conversations that I had with my husband in the days immediately following his first visit to see me, when we'd been ripped apart and we were both miserable with longing.

The man worshiped me.

I brought him home from work in the evening and various distractions led to not much time to connect between us, and I began to feel sad. We went to bed and he ordered me to face him so he could look at me. I rolled toward him and buried my face in his shoulder, but he wasn't having it. He pulled my head up by the hair to look at my face. I closed my eyes.

"Open your eyes," he said.

I whimpered.

"Come on. Don't make me make you."

I opened them. Tried to focus on my own image in his eye. "So hard," I whined. I've been known to gaze raptly, adoringly, into this man's eyes for a long, long time, so this wasn't normal behavior for me. I think part of the difficulty was coming from how I was feeling: sad, disconnected, neglected, and just not wanting to be open enough for him to see I was feeling that way because I knew it was unreasonable.

"Why is it so hard?" he asked.

I whined again. "Because you can see me."

"I like to see you," he whispered softly. As I looked at him, I felt all my concerns disappear into the blue pools of his eyes. When I buried my head in his shoulder again, it was out of an overwhelming surge of affection and tenderness.

I made a suggestion while we talked afterward that made him very unhappy. It involved me leaving this place for a while, being separated from him for an extended period, for several reasons that in practice were very logical. The heart isn't logical, though. "You don't get to give yourself to me and then take yourself away," he said. "How could you even suggest that? You were reading today... surely you know how unhappy we were apart? Surely you remember how awful that was."

I do remember. I don't want to live through it again.

He held me a while longer, his hands stroking my body, and then he asked what I was thinking. "Are you thinking you need a beating? I think you need a beating, trying to get away from me. Turn over."

I turned on my side, facing away from him. "More," he said. I rolled onto my stomach. His hand smacked my ass several times, making me gasp. He rummaged in the drawer for a while, gathering things, and then I felt a soft flogger, which drew soft purrs of pleasure from me. "You go with me, slut," he said, his other hand stroking my hair. "You don't get to leave me, sweet slut. My sweet girl." A more painful flogger landed across my backside then, and he kept swinging it.

"I never wanted to leave you," I managed, feeling it was important to say that. I never would want that, but we could make it through if it was more reasonable to do.

"Mmhmm, then why you come up with such a horrible idea?" He kept flogging me and I was starting to squirm and twist. He was hitting my sit spots with the flogger too, and he stopped once in a while to smack with his hand. I felt myself growing wet for him, and I couldn't reason enough to carry on conversation, so I just moaned.

He put the flogger down, and then he went back in the drawer. I felt the wooden spoon stroke across my ass, and I inhaled sharply. He did mean to leave an impression. 5 smacks with it, I think, and I was squealing helplessly, each one feeling completely unendurable. "You learned your lesson?" he asked me, gathering me into his arms.

"Yeah, I think so."

"What's that, then?"

"That you don't like me thinking of us being apart."

"Good girl," he said, kissing my head.

"You did ask what I was thinking, though," I defended myself. Not that I mind the spanking at all, but it's not like I had planned the whole thing out.

He agreed with me. I really didn't know just the thought of it would shake him so badly.

A brief interlude later and we were kissing each other with hot, steamy kisses. He was stroking my hair and face, and he pulled my shirt off so he could touch the rest of me. He started brushing his fingertips across my nipple oh so very very lightly, and it felt like absolute magic, heaven dancing across my breast. My mouth opened wide and I moaned loudly as he kept doing it. "I think you like having your nipples touched," he said. Mmm, master of observation, isn't he? I squirmed in the circle of his arms and tugged a bit on my wrist that he was holding, for the sheer joy of feeling his strength.

He pushed my thighs apart and his fingertip stroked my clit. "Mmm, a little excited here, aren't we?" he asked as I gasped and squirmed more. He teased me, slipping his fingers just barely inside, then sliding his fingers all around the sensitive membranes, then brushing across my clit again. I bucked and wriggled and moaned, and he fastened his lips to mine and took my noises into himself. "You like this, don't you?" he asked.

I managed something resembling a positive response, as he didn't stop for me to gather breath for words.

"Mmmm, then how would you like me doing this while you suck my cock? Yeah? Let's find out." He turned completely around then, on his side. I was stunned. He's a lot taller than I am and the few times we've tried 69 didn't really come out that well, I thought, but it was very sexy that he was willing to try again.

He gave me a moment to adjust to his positioning, to get his cock in my mouth, before he shoved my legs open again and slid his fingers between them, whispering "Good girl," as I opened them wider for him. Then I was screaming from the overwhelming sensations of cock in my mouth and fingers on my pussy. I screamed around his cock as I sucked, and then he started slowly thrusting in my mouth while his fingers plundered my pussy, and I moaned and screamed every time I had air to do so. I wasn't really in control of anything, and he put me even less in control when he rolled atop me, thrusting down into my willing mouth and throat. I grasped helplessly at his lower back, bucking under his ministrations, sucking as best I could through the screams and the moans as his cock entered, opened my throat, stopped my breath, and withdrew, allowing my moans and screams out, then starting the whole cycle over again.

Then I felt his mouth lower onto my pussy, felt his moans, his tongue, against my sensitive membranes, as his fingers continued sliding into me, as his cock continued fucking my face, and I lost my mind. I screamed, then sucked hard on his cock, pulling him down into me as hard as I could as I just absolutely lost it. I heard and felt his moans as well, and he came down my throat not long after. I sucked the orgasm from him hungrily, clutching him to me even as he thrust.

He stayed like that for a while longer, continued playing with me, letting me suck his softening cock, before he moved off me. I whimpered, bucking my hips, missing him. "Don't worry, I'm not done with you yet," he said, sliding his arm around me again, kissing me as his fingers moved down to stroke many more orgasms out of me.

Want to leave him? Never.


  1. I have no idea why you would think leaving would be a good thing, but I'm glad he set you straight. That is one of the things Musicman insisted on when we first got together, wherever he was, I was. He even told me we would never sleep apart again, in fact he insisted I would always sleep in his bed with him, I always have been in that bed :) That's a very good thing.

    1. Oh, it is. If it was just the two of us, or the three of us, it wouldn't have even been a thing I'd consider. There's no part of me that wants to be apart from him for longer than the space of a work day. (I resent even that, honestly, but y'know, bills). We just have a lot of unfinished business elsewhere and I thought I'd offer that sacrifice to help finish it.

      It's good to never sleep apart again. :)

    2. I understand totally the fact that you are considering other stuff. I just think there MUST be another way to take care of the other stuff. I resent that whole seperated by the work day thing too. It will all work itself out at some point :)

  2. Do you watch Sex and the City? This reminds me of an episode where one of Carrie's (I think it was Carrie??) boyfriends (can't remember which -- gosh my memory is bad toady!) suggests they only see one another a few times a week so that they have time to miss each other. It didn't work out for them either, however. I'm glad you and your husband were able to work it out, looks like you had quite a nice time after, aww. I love kisses on the head, btw, they're simply the sweetest.

    1. We spent enough time apart and missing each other already that I'd never suggest it just so we could miss each other. :) Doesn't seem like the kind of thing that would work out for us.

      I love pretty much anything he does to my head. Especially holding it against his chest while he strokes my hair, dropping kisses on it once in a while. Mmhmm, yeah, good stuff. :) Thanks for the comment! :)

  3. Oh man Conina - I get it. I have tried that before too - offered a separation as a way to correct something that needed to be dealt with. It was a no go. But there are definitely times when the options seem limited aren't there?

    I think it is the eclipse. Messing with us all.

    1. Yeah, options seem insanely limited. In some ways it would be a relief to deal with the things, but I can't imagine my life even for a short time without him, so I'm glad he turned me down.

      Still don't know what we'll DO, but... we'll work it out so we can stay together.

    2. Was there an eclipse? That might explain BIKSS' strange behaviour yesterday. *mutter*

      And also, I too love it when he has his hand on my head and as you so poetically put it, "drops kisses" on it. =D

      Also, thanks for the tale. "good girl" always gets me to smile :)

    3. There was an annular eclipse for some parts of the world - don't know if any parts of Australia were in the viewing area.

      Glad to provide. :)

  4. When I know I have done something to offend I feel so bad that I want to hide in a deep hole.

    1. My husband is generally very easygoing - I'm not sure if I've ever done anything to offend him. This wounded him a bit, mostly.

      I do understand what you mean about wanting the earth to swallow you up when you've displeased.


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