Sick and tired

I am insatiable.

Even when I am completely exhausted, my body rebelling at the thought of moving, when he wants sex, I want it. 

I had a long, long drive Saturday. Fifteen hours. That's at least as many as it sounds like.

We finally got home safely, and my husband took the munchkin off to get ready for bed. The two of them fell asleep in the little one's room, all snuggled together.

I was dealing with a little business and some pleasure - bills and blogs, trying to wind down, let everyone who cared know we were safe, taking a brief shower to wash away the grimy feeling of traveling for too long. My eyes were streaming tears of exhaustion when I finally called it and snapped my netbook shut. I stumbled into the little one's room, wondering if we were going to sleep in there with him. That didn't sound appealing - the siren call of our own bed and our own sheets was far too strong to resist.  

I gently tapped my husband's side and he snapped awake.

"What are we doing? Are we going to bed?" I asked softly, as not to disturb the knocked-out little one.

"Yeah," he mumbled sleepily, and stumbled bedroom-ward. He was brushing his teeth when entered behind him. 

The smooth pale blue sheen of our bamboo sheets called to me, and I gladly fell into their embrace. My eyes, held open by sheer force of will for hours by this point, gratefully slammed closed.

My husband climbed between the sheets behind me and pulled my hips back into him, spooning me tightly. I purred as his hands wandered my body, stretching and rubbing against him, letting my legs intertwine with his. His cock stirred against my backside. "You'll forgive me if I wind up fucking you, won't you?" he asked softly.

I groaned. What? "Holy hell, are you kidding?" I vocalized.

"Will you?" he said, humping against me.

He wasn't kidding. His hands wandered up under my shirt, pulling me close to him. He pulled my legs open.

"You can sleep if you like, while I fuck you." He pressed his cock against me harder, grinding. "On the other hand, you probably can't. Can you sleep, fuck toy, while a man's cock is fucking you?"

"No." I whispered.

"I didn't think so." His hand was slapping my spread pussy, over and over.

"What is this for, girl?" he asked roughly.

"For you to fuck," I managed between my yelps of pleasure/pain.

"Yeah, it is, isn't it? Even when you just want to sleep, this pussy is still for me to fuck, huh? I want to fuck you and I will fuck you."

I was exhausted, yes, but his words excited me. I was extraordinarily aroused even though I didn't have the energy to do anything about it, so when he finally slid his cock inside me, it felt amazing. My eyes still stayed closed through the entire thing though - there wasn't enough arousal in the world to pry those lids open.

He was on top of me, driving his cock down into me, talking to me near-constantly. "What a good fuck toy. You know I take you when I want you, don't you? That's right, fuck toy, fuck that cock."

Where he got the energy to do missionary after the day we had I'll never know. Oh, wait, it was that nap.

We fell asleep almost immediately after, tangled all up in each other. Despite my cold, I slept very, very well that night.

Moments like these - when he takes what he wants and I just go along with it because that's what I'm for - sink me deep, deep into subspace. I love feeling owned like that, protected, needed. For me, it feels like love.

Forgive him? I think the man deserves a medal.