My man's idea of Christmas presents is tons and tons of screaming orgasms. Orgasms until I am begging for them to end.
And I am perfectly okay with that.
Merry Christmas, y'all!
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Alone together
What are two kinky grown people to do when they're left alone for an hour or so in her mom's living room?
What else?
"What you wanna do now?" I asked my husband as the car left the driveway. We were sitting on the sofa. He waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively and I giggled.
His arm was around me and I was kissing his throat, still giggling a little. He tightened his grip and just like that, I was there, his. He shoved my shirt up, shoved my bra out of the way, and his lips were fastened to my nipple - sucking, biting, hurting. I moaned, sliding into the corner of the sofa against the arm, half reclining.
He had my jeans off, and then the layer of long underwear, followed by my panties. "Gonna fuck you, girl," he growled, his hand on my back forcing me to arch my breasts more into his face. His other hand started slapping the breast that he wasn't torturing with his mouth. He was sucking and biting on one side and spanking on the other. I was twisting, but he held me fast.
"Are you for me to fuck?" he asked.
"Yes sir," I moaned.
He shoved my legs apart - one along the sofa's cushions, the other stretched out on the floor, and started spanking my inner thighs, forcing little cries from me with each slap. The Christmas tree twinkled at me.
"Look at you, all naked," he murmured, spanking my spread pussy, making me scream. "Well, mostly." My shirt and bra, pushed up over my breasts, accentuated my nudity rather than helping me feel more covered. I moaned. I felt his hips lift, heard the sofa's springs creak, as he divested himself of his own jeans. His hard cock poked through the slit in his boxers and pressed against my bare leg, the intense heat of it contrasting with the chill of the room that was already trying to settle on my skin.
He was enjoying slapping my sensitive parts far too much. Thigh, pussy, other thigh. I arched into him, and his fingers were gentle, touching my folds but not delving very deep. I groaned.
"Want me, girl?" he asked roughly.
Holy fuck. Is it not obvious?
"Yes sir," I whispered, hoarse from the crying out.
"Hmm... what to do with you," he pondered, pulling away a little. In the corner of the couch with my legs splayed open in either direction is certainly not a position that I recall us trying before. I groaned with disappointment when he was not touching me, but then there he was, the head of his cock nudging at my opening. I have no idea what he had to do to get into that position, to get his cock lined up with me just right. It can't have been easy. I used my hand to spread myself open just a little more around him, and he slid all the way in.
"Ohhhhhh," I moaned as he bottomed out, pressing just that little bit more inside me, stretching me out to accommodate him. I love that feeling.
He was thrusting, talking, saying dirty things. My head was tossed back and I was moaning, arching into him, so I have no idea how he was even moving, but it was good. I moved my legs so that one was up higher along the back of the sofa and the other was wrapped around his back, allowing him a better angle and allowing me to rock with him a little more.
"So fucking sexy," he kept saying, each time prompting a loud agreement from me. Fuck yes, this was sexy.
"You know what would be nice?" he asked eventually.
"Uhhh?" I moaned. This was nice. Nice? Hell, what's he talking about?
"If I threw you over the arm of the sofa and fucked you like that."
"Mmmmmmm," I agreed.
He slid into me a few more times, feeling so incredible I didn't want him to ever stop, but then he did, pulling away, standing up.
"Come on, fuck toy," he said. I groaned and did as I was told, bending over the arm of the sofa, standing on my tiptoes on the floor.
"Good girl," he praised me. He is so much taller than me. He grabbed my hips and slid in. Oh, fuck, so good. So hot, bent over the arm of the sofa and fucked. I was screaming, and then he started slapping my ass.
It was too too much. My tiptoes couldn't maintain contact with the floor. I lifted my feet into the air and then his hands were gripping my ankles as he pounded into me - faster, faster, faster.
"Oh my God," I screamed.
"Gonna come in you, bitch," he growled, as he did just that. He kept fucking into me then, as his cock softened. His hand was pulling up on my hair and I was screaming.
I crawled forward onto the sofa, collapsing with my legs still in the air over the arm, and he (rather abruptly) came around and sat down. I put my head in his lap and he rubbed my back while I cleaned his cock with my mouth.
All of that and the man never took off his boxers.
We pulled a blanket over us and lay like that, our fingers entwined, me mostly blissed out, until we felt we should probably wash up and put clothes on before the absent people returned.
What else?
"What you wanna do now?" I asked my husband as the car left the driveway. We were sitting on the sofa. He waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively and I giggled.
His arm was around me and I was kissing his throat, still giggling a little. He tightened his grip and just like that, I was there, his. He shoved my shirt up, shoved my bra out of the way, and his lips were fastened to my nipple - sucking, biting, hurting. I moaned, sliding into the corner of the sofa against the arm, half reclining.
He had my jeans off, and then the layer of long underwear, followed by my panties. "Gonna fuck you, girl," he growled, his hand on my back forcing me to arch my breasts more into his face. His other hand started slapping the breast that he wasn't torturing with his mouth. He was sucking and biting on one side and spanking on the other. I was twisting, but he held me fast.
"Are you for me to fuck?" he asked.
"Yes sir," I moaned.
He shoved my legs apart - one along the sofa's cushions, the other stretched out on the floor, and started spanking my inner thighs, forcing little cries from me with each slap. The Christmas tree twinkled at me.
"Look at you, all naked," he murmured, spanking my spread pussy, making me scream. "Well, mostly." My shirt and bra, pushed up over my breasts, accentuated my nudity rather than helping me feel more covered. I moaned. I felt his hips lift, heard the sofa's springs creak, as he divested himself of his own jeans. His hard cock poked through the slit in his boxers and pressed against my bare leg, the intense heat of it contrasting with the chill of the room that was already trying to settle on my skin.
He was enjoying slapping my sensitive parts far too much. Thigh, pussy, other thigh. I arched into him, and his fingers were gentle, touching my folds but not delving very deep. I groaned.
"Want me, girl?" he asked roughly.
Holy fuck. Is it not obvious?
"Yes sir," I whispered, hoarse from the crying out.
"Hmm... what to do with you," he pondered, pulling away a little. In the corner of the couch with my legs splayed open in either direction is certainly not a position that I recall us trying before. I groaned with disappointment when he was not touching me, but then there he was, the head of his cock nudging at my opening. I have no idea what he had to do to get into that position, to get his cock lined up with me just right. It can't have been easy. I used my hand to spread myself open just a little more around him, and he slid all the way in.
"Ohhhhhh," I moaned as he bottomed out, pressing just that little bit more inside me, stretching me out to accommodate him. I love that feeling.
He was thrusting, talking, saying dirty things. My head was tossed back and I was moaning, arching into him, so I have no idea how he was even moving, but it was good. I moved my legs so that one was up higher along the back of the sofa and the other was wrapped around his back, allowing him a better angle and allowing me to rock with him a little more.
"So fucking sexy," he kept saying, each time prompting a loud agreement from me. Fuck yes, this was sexy.
"You know what would be nice?" he asked eventually.
"Uhhh?" I moaned. This was nice. Nice? Hell, what's he talking about?
"If I threw you over the arm of the sofa and fucked you like that."
"Mmmmmmm," I agreed.
He slid into me a few more times, feeling so incredible I didn't want him to ever stop, but then he did, pulling away, standing up.
"Come on, fuck toy," he said. I groaned and did as I was told, bending over the arm of the sofa, standing on my tiptoes on the floor.
"Good girl," he praised me. He is so much taller than me. He grabbed my hips and slid in. Oh, fuck, so good. So hot, bent over the arm of the sofa and fucked. I was screaming, and then he started slapping my ass.
It was too too much. My tiptoes couldn't maintain contact with the floor. I lifted my feet into the air and then his hands were gripping my ankles as he pounded into me - faster, faster, faster.
"Oh my God," I screamed.
"Gonna come in you, bitch," he growled, as he did just that. He kept fucking into me then, as his cock softened. His hand was pulling up on my hair and I was screaming.
I crawled forward onto the sofa, collapsing with my legs still in the air over the arm, and he (rather abruptly) came around and sat down. I put my head in his lap and he rubbed my back while I cleaned his cock with my mouth.
All of that and the man never took off his boxers.
We pulled a blanket over us and lay like that, our fingers entwined, me mostly blissed out, until we felt we should probably wash up and put clothes on before the absent people returned.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Taking
Jetlag is a killer.
We're having a hard time adjusting to our new time zone, but otherwise everything is lovely. Friends, shows, family, fun. Just as arranged.
Something I ate didn't agree with me, and when we went to bed so, so early, my husband merely wrapped me in his arms, told me a story, and we fell asleep.
Later - much, much later, his fingers drifted across my face, he cupped my breast. His gentle touches were pulling me from the depths of sleep. I moaned softly.
"Mine," he whispered. I felt his cock pressing against my leg. His fingers kept stroking my skin - waking me up more and more. I resisted internally, though I did nothing to stop him. He'd already reminded me to whom I belonged.
"What you doing with the sleepy girl?" I asked groggily.
"I thought I might fuck the sleepy girl," he answered. He knocked my legs apart and stroked me between them, adding a slap or two for good measure.
He drew me out of sleep, he fucked me, and I thanked him for it.
"Thought it would be a shame for the fuck toy to go a night without being fucked," he said as his fingers drove me to the heights of pleasure.
After the screaming, he gathered me into his arms and squeezed me tightly. We lay awake for a long time like that, our limbs entangled. In an odd twist of events, I fell asleep before he did.
One of my favorite parts of our dynamic is when he takes what he wants - even if it means waking me from a sound sleep.
There's an indignant feeling at first, and then comes the realization that this is good and right and exactly what I've always wanted. There's a brief internal conflict and then I am swept away, all my walls down, his for the taking.
He's very, very good at this.
We're having a hard time adjusting to our new time zone, but otherwise everything is lovely. Friends, shows, family, fun. Just as arranged.
Something I ate didn't agree with me, and when we went to bed so, so early, my husband merely wrapped me in his arms, told me a story, and we fell asleep.
Later - much, much later, his fingers drifted across my face, he cupped my breast. His gentle touches were pulling me from the depths of sleep. I moaned softly.
"Mine," he whispered. I felt his cock pressing against my leg. His fingers kept stroking my skin - waking me up more and more. I resisted internally, though I did nothing to stop him. He'd already reminded me to whom I belonged.
"What you doing with the sleepy girl?" I asked groggily.
"I thought I might fuck the sleepy girl," he answered. He knocked my legs apart and stroked me between them, adding a slap or two for good measure.
He drew me out of sleep, he fucked me, and I thanked him for it.
"Thought it would be a shame for the fuck toy to go a night without being fucked," he said as his fingers drove me to the heights of pleasure.
After the screaming, he gathered me into his arms and squeezed me tightly. We lay awake for a long time like that, our limbs entangled. In an odd twist of events, I fell asleep before he did.
One of my favorite parts of our dynamic is when he takes what he wants - even if it means waking me from a sound sleep.
There's an indignant feeling at first, and then comes the realization that this is good and right and exactly what I've always wanted. There's a brief internal conflict and then I am swept away, all my walls down, his for the taking.
He's very, very good at this.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
e[lust] #42
Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Please check the site in January to find out if e[lust] will be continuing under a new owner, or not. Thanks for participating!
~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~
~ e[lust] Editress ~
~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships
Ask Aunty Dee: Anal Play and Buttplugs
Being sexy
I'm Monogamish, Apparently
Orgasms, Spontaneous
Profoundly in love
Rape Fantasies
Why Don't You Go Fuck Yourself?
Kink & Fetish
An Unexpected Gift
Cathartic Sex
Confession: The Stalking of a Doll
He got off to my laugh
Kink Guide to Fifty Shades Darker: conclusion
Kinky erotica from the top's point of view
Pain and Collars
Pegging Prep for Virgin Territory
The Cowboy (1 of 4)
Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor
Erotic Writing
Desperation
Dream Lover
Everything You Give
From the Inside
Get Back in Line
Just Hands
Lust in the Dunes - Part VII: The Love Elite
nching on "Special K"
On The Phone
Out of the Blue
Tease
Take Two
The Stranger
White Stockings, White Stockings She Wore
What if?
Writing Challenge - A Question
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Just right
Aisha has a lovely, lovely post and poll up on her blog about whether people are getting enough D/s - control, kink, sex, in their lives.
I've seen the time when I would have answered - not enough - never, ever enough.
And while I count myself among the truly insatiable people of the world, I answered honestly that I have just the right amount of kink and sex in my life. I am truly, truly fortunate that my husband has decided to travel this path with me and give me everything I ever fantasized about, and beyond.
We could add more kink to our lives - and will - why hello there, mister rope - and it would not feel like "too much," for me. But right now, I have stunningly kinky sex almost every day, sometimes twice!
I sit at his feet and he strokes my hair.
He wraps himself around me every night, and I am safe and warm and absolutely, completely his.
He may have never seen himself owning a person, but he does it incredibly well and I am very very grateful to him for taking on the responsibility.
In other news, Lily's book is out! I had the amazing good fortune to be a beta reader, and it is good stuff. Go, read it and be enlightened!
I've seen the time when I would have answered - not enough - never, ever enough.
And while I count myself among the truly insatiable people of the world, I answered honestly that I have just the right amount of kink and sex in my life. I am truly, truly fortunate that my husband has decided to travel this path with me and give me everything I ever fantasized about, and beyond.
We could add more kink to our lives - and will - why hello there, mister rope - and it would not feel like "too much," for me. But right now, I have stunningly kinky sex almost every day, sometimes twice!
I sit at his feet and he strokes my hair.
He wraps himself around me every night, and I am safe and warm and absolutely, completely his.
He may have never seen himself owning a person, but he does it incredibly well and I am very very grateful to him for taking on the responsibility.
In other news, Lily's book is out! I had the amazing good fortune to be a beta reader, and it is good stuff. Go, read it and be enlightened!
Monday, December 10, 2012
No pain, all gain
His hand brushed my nipple and I jumped. It was so sensitive. "Oooh, does girl like that?" he asked, doing it again. I whined. My stomach was unhappy and there seems to be some sort of direct connection between my stomach and my nipple. Normally, yes, I would have loved it.
Now, I covered my nipple with my hand. "So sensitive, and my stomach feels icky," I explained.
"Poor baby," he said, moving his hand elsewhere, delicately stroking the skin of my throat, the upper slope of my breasts, my back. I made little breathless sounds of pleasure as he raised goosebumps all over me. "I'll leave your nipples alone - for tonight." I should hope he wouldn't leave them alone for longer.
He was holding me on his arm, my head nestled against his shoulder. My back had been turned to him but I rolled over more to give him better access to my front. My left wrist moved to find itself captured by his left hand. Oh, I love that. I twisted my wrist a little in the loose circle of his fingers.
"Should I stop this?" he asked, his fingers lightly dancing, sweeping, chasing tingles all over my body. Oh, his magic, magic fingers.
"Oh, you should," I whispered reluctantly, between my little moans of pleasure. I didn't want him to, but should was a different matter altogether.
"Why should I?" he asked, not stopping.
"Mmm, mmm.. it's late," I answered. We'd used the entire weekend up on fun activities and he had to be at work in the morning.
"Oh, is that all?"
"Uh-huh, were you expecting a different answer?"
He let his fingers drift over my throat, down my side. I was purring. "No. Just glad I didn't get a different answer."
He kept stroking me, whispering words of affection, drawing the pleasure out for an eternity. My legs spread wider and wider, but he hadn't yet touched me between them. I was humping the air by the time the side of his hand brushed against my folds. I jumped, a little shriek of delight and stimulation making its way out of my lips. "Ahh, is that sensitive like your nipple?" he asked, his fingers gently stroking my sensitive surfaces, not yet intruding.
"It is, but it doesn't make me feel sick," I answered, arching up, desperate for his fingertip to delve a little deeper.
He obliged me. "That's good. I'd hate to make you feel sick," he said, slipping his finger between my folds, running the tip around my opening, and up, up, up. He stopped just short of my clit, the little bud throbbing, begging for his attention.
I groaned deeply and tilted my hips, trying to guide his finger to that magic spot. God, how ridiculous I must look, I thought to myself, before he banished all thoughts by letting his finger glide up against my clit. I moaned deeply with pleasure and rocked my hips against his finger.
He is so good at this. I was lost. A little orgasm didn't take very long from my extreme state of arousal, but he kept going, not satisfied with the little cries and the little involuntary kicks.
"So good to fuck you. Such a good fuck hole," he murmured. I squealed. His words, so harsh, contrasting not only with the softness of his voice but with his actual actions, burrowed deep into me and chained me to him. I could feel myself grow even wetter. His fingertips gathered some of the extra moisture around my opening and spread it to my clit, where he kept his fingers moving quickly and lightly, making my body dance to his rhythm.
Another orgasm, and I writhed. Another, and my legs were spreading wide, my hips lifting as he touched me. I wasn't even sure if I was trying to move with him or get away from him. His finger never did slide inside me - just rocked against my clit as I thrashed next to him, whimpering, moaning, crying out. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my hip, but he was ignoring it in favor of tormenting me with endless pleasure. I lost count of the orgasms. My body was sweating lightly in the cool air and was arching up and down, my head lifting off the pillow and tossing itself back down again as I spasmed over and over and over, as he told me again and again to come for him.
"No," I said once, breathlessly, unable to summon the energy.
"Sure, you can come for me," he said, his finger continuing to move so lightly and so quickly. And I did. I couldn't stop myself.
"Good girl does what she's told," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Isn't it amazing how much pleasure you can bring a girl with one little fingertip?"
I could only pant my agreement.
When I was utterly spent, he slowly, slowly stopped, weaning my clit off the attention. I could still feel his cock pressing against my hip.
"Going to fuck you with my cock now," he said, his hand on my hip.
"Mmhmm," I agreed heartily, ready for that. So wet. He'd made me feel incredible already but I am always up for more if I'm not already asleep.
I turned to face away from him, leaned forward so my body was at an angle to his, and tossed my top leg backward over his. Such a lovely position. His cock slid inside my wetness easily, but he took his time about giving it all to me - just a little at a time, nice and slow. I was panting for it by the time our bodies were pressed together.
His finger found my clit again, something that particular position really, really has going for it. Already sensitized by the dozens of orgasms he'd just drawn from me, it didn't take long before he had me there again, at the shaking, trembling edge of the chasm. Another slow gentle nudge, a sexy word rasped out just for me, and I was tumbling over. Oh, ye gods, the pleasure. I was out of my mind with it.
Orgasms around his cock are divine - especially when I am trying to get away because he's already driven so many out of me. I was so, so sensitive, and as he gently prodded a third orgasm in this second set out of me with his finger, I writhed, squirming and kicking, trying to close my legs, to turn slightly away. I was breathless; reedy, helpless cries and pants were coming from me as I struggled to get enough oxygen to make the noises he was spurring from me. He wasn't having any of my escape. Despite his tenderness, the love burning out of him into me, he was firm. He was having what he wanted, and what he wanted was for me to come on his cock. Repeatedly.
"Oh, God, you're making me come all over your cock," I panted, realization dawning that the orgasms hadn't been convenient side effects of what he was doing.
"That's right, girl. Go on, come for me."
I did. I came, the most powerful orgasm yet washing over me, making me cry out. My legs shook from the sheer intensity of it - I could feel my lips start to go numb. As I writhed and shook, I could feel him throbbing within me, his own climax brought about by either my screams, my shaking, or the involuntary pulsing of my muscles around him.
We lay connected like that, our hands slowly stroking each other as his cock softened inside me. My screams and gasps for air had dried my throat out something terrible, though, and eventually I stirred to ask for water. He came back with it and let me drink before getting back in bed.
"I like the power I have over you," he whispered as he gathered me into his arms.
"I do, too," I answered softly.
Now, I covered my nipple with my hand. "So sensitive, and my stomach feels icky," I explained.
"Poor baby," he said, moving his hand elsewhere, delicately stroking the skin of my throat, the upper slope of my breasts, my back. I made little breathless sounds of pleasure as he raised goosebumps all over me. "I'll leave your nipples alone - for tonight." I should hope he wouldn't leave them alone for longer.
He was holding me on his arm, my head nestled against his shoulder. My back had been turned to him but I rolled over more to give him better access to my front. My left wrist moved to find itself captured by his left hand. Oh, I love that. I twisted my wrist a little in the loose circle of his fingers.
"Should I stop this?" he asked, his fingers lightly dancing, sweeping, chasing tingles all over my body. Oh, his magic, magic fingers.
"Oh, you should," I whispered reluctantly, between my little moans of pleasure. I didn't want him to, but should was a different matter altogether.
"Why should I?" he asked, not stopping.
"Mmm, mmm.. it's late," I answered. We'd used the entire weekend up on fun activities and he had to be at work in the morning.
"Oh, is that all?"
"Uh-huh, were you expecting a different answer?"
He let his fingers drift over my throat, down my side. I was purring. "No. Just glad I didn't get a different answer."
He kept stroking me, whispering words of affection, drawing the pleasure out for an eternity. My legs spread wider and wider, but he hadn't yet touched me between them. I was humping the air by the time the side of his hand brushed against my folds. I jumped, a little shriek of delight and stimulation making its way out of my lips. "Ahh, is that sensitive like your nipple?" he asked, his fingers gently stroking my sensitive surfaces, not yet intruding.
"It is, but it doesn't make me feel sick," I answered, arching up, desperate for his fingertip to delve a little deeper.
He obliged me. "That's good. I'd hate to make you feel sick," he said, slipping his finger between my folds, running the tip around my opening, and up, up, up. He stopped just short of my clit, the little bud throbbing, begging for his attention.
I groaned deeply and tilted my hips, trying to guide his finger to that magic spot. God, how ridiculous I must look, I thought to myself, before he banished all thoughts by letting his finger glide up against my clit. I moaned deeply with pleasure and rocked my hips against his finger.
He is so good at this. I was lost. A little orgasm didn't take very long from my extreme state of arousal, but he kept going, not satisfied with the little cries and the little involuntary kicks.
"So good to fuck you. Such a good fuck hole," he murmured. I squealed. His words, so harsh, contrasting not only with the softness of his voice but with his actual actions, burrowed deep into me and chained me to him. I could feel myself grow even wetter. His fingertips gathered some of the extra moisture around my opening and spread it to my clit, where he kept his fingers moving quickly and lightly, making my body dance to his rhythm.
Another orgasm, and I writhed. Another, and my legs were spreading wide, my hips lifting as he touched me. I wasn't even sure if I was trying to move with him or get away from him. His finger never did slide inside me - just rocked against my clit as I thrashed next to him, whimpering, moaning, crying out. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my hip, but he was ignoring it in favor of tormenting me with endless pleasure. I lost count of the orgasms. My body was sweating lightly in the cool air and was arching up and down, my head lifting off the pillow and tossing itself back down again as I spasmed over and over and over, as he told me again and again to come for him.
"No," I said once, breathlessly, unable to summon the energy.
"Sure, you can come for me," he said, his finger continuing to move so lightly and so quickly. And I did. I couldn't stop myself.
"Good girl does what she's told," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Isn't it amazing how much pleasure you can bring a girl with one little fingertip?"
I could only pant my agreement.
When I was utterly spent, he slowly, slowly stopped, weaning my clit off the attention. I could still feel his cock pressing against my hip.
"Going to fuck you with my cock now," he said, his hand on my hip.
"Mmhmm," I agreed heartily, ready for that. So wet. He'd made me feel incredible already but I am always up for more if I'm not already asleep.
I turned to face away from him, leaned forward so my body was at an angle to his, and tossed my top leg backward over his. Such a lovely position. His cock slid inside my wetness easily, but he took his time about giving it all to me - just a little at a time, nice and slow. I was panting for it by the time our bodies were pressed together.
His finger found my clit again, something that particular position really, really has going for it. Already sensitized by the dozens of orgasms he'd just drawn from me, it didn't take long before he had me there again, at the shaking, trembling edge of the chasm. Another slow gentle nudge, a sexy word rasped out just for me, and I was tumbling over. Oh, ye gods, the pleasure. I was out of my mind with it.
Orgasms around his cock are divine - especially when I am trying to get away because he's already driven so many out of me. I was so, so sensitive, and as he gently prodded a third orgasm in this second set out of me with his finger, I writhed, squirming and kicking, trying to close my legs, to turn slightly away. I was breathless; reedy, helpless cries and pants were coming from me as I struggled to get enough oxygen to make the noises he was spurring from me. He wasn't having any of my escape. Despite his tenderness, the love burning out of him into me, he was firm. He was having what he wanted, and what he wanted was for me to come on his cock. Repeatedly.
"Oh, God, you're making me come all over your cock," I panted, realization dawning that the orgasms hadn't been convenient side effects of what he was doing.
"That's right, girl. Go on, come for me."
I did. I came, the most powerful orgasm yet washing over me, making me cry out. My legs shook from the sheer intensity of it - I could feel my lips start to go numb. As I writhed and shook, I could feel him throbbing within me, his own climax brought about by either my screams, my shaking, or the involuntary pulsing of my muscles around him.
We lay connected like that, our hands slowly stroking each other as his cock softened inside me. My screams and gasps for air had dried my throat out something terrible, though, and eventually I stirred to ask for water. He came back with it and let me drink before getting back in bed.
"I like the power I have over you," he whispered as he gathered me into his arms.
"I do, too," I answered softly.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Amusing D/s conundrum
There's this movie.
My husband, and most everyone in our circle, has seen it.
I have not.
I consider it part of my identity that I have specifically chosen not to see this particular film, and my husband has never taken issue with that. I chose not to watch it before we were ever a couple. In fact, in the world in my head, this film does not exist.
When it came out on DVD, I bought it for him. When he wanted to watch it with a friend, I left the house for the day and they had a day of it - I even made and brought them dinner!
Now we have a munchkin, and he wants the munchkin to see it. I'm fine with that, if it's important to him - I told him I'd go off to goodwill and browse while they watched it. He's not happy with that, though. He wants us all to watch it together.
I suppose you could say this film is a hard limit for me.
I'd do anything for him. Seriously, I would - he's amazing and he does so much for me, not just sex, though, holy hell, the sex.
Move across the country? Sure! Leave everything I ever loved behind? Sure, I'll cry a bit, but for you, babe, I'll do it. Suck your cock every morning before work? Yeah, that sounds awesome. Pay the bills? Plan the meals? Cook the food? Yes, yes, yes. Bear a child? Absolutely. Anything for you, love. Plan every outing that we have? Okay, I can do it. Plan a last minute trip for all of us so we don't have to be apart when you must travel on business? That takes some wrangling, but I can do it.
Watch this movie? .... I dunno.
I asked him to put it on a scale of 1-10 how important it was to him for me to do it, and that was a spectacular flop and he wound up giving up, so it's not like getting me to watch it will grant him some fantastic experience he'd be missing out on otherwise.
So, submission. Not a problem.
Except this.
It's a testament to how awesome the man is that I'm even considering this and not dismissing it out of hand.
I'd love to hear some thoughts on this - sacrificing something I consider part of my identity for his momentary, fleeting pleasure. It's not like he'd bask in the grand sacrifice of it or anything.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Owned
He joins me in bed, and I immediately put my Kindle away and turn toward him, into his embrace. "No one said you had to put that away," he says, sounding amused as his arms wrap around me, his fingertips tracing goosebumps along my bare skin.
"Mmm, I know what's good for me," I answer softly, kissing his chest, peppering his warm skin with my love.
"I know what's good for me, and it's here in my arms," he says. Smoothness, rolling off his tongue like honey. I purr, and before the sound even finishes coming out of my throat, he's got my nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard. Harder, harder, and I'm squealing because it's an intense pain. The nipple is still sore from what he did to it the night before. He lets it go, briefly, rubs his palm across it and then grabs it between his fingers again, pulling up on it. I scream as quietly as I can manage.
"Mmm, I know what's good for me," I answer softly, kissing his chest, peppering his warm skin with my love.
"I know what's good for me, and it's here in my arms," he says. Smoothness, rolling off his tongue like honey. I purr, and before the sound even finishes coming out of my throat, he's got my nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard. Harder, harder, and I'm squealing because it's an intense pain. The nipple is still sore from what he did to it the night before. He lets it go, briefly, rubs his palm across it and then grabs it between his fingers again, pulling up on it. I scream as quietly as I can manage.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
A bit of business
If anyone who reads here is thinking of ordering a custom flogger for the holidays, please do so within the next week or so. At the minimum, email me to let me know what you want so I can go ahead and make it. I'm easy like that. I am going out of town for a very, very extended period and won't be able to make custom floggers until late January.
I will bring my current stock along with me, so if you have your eye on one of those, everything's good.
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