Belted, flogged, fucked

My Christmas spanking went on forever. His hand smacked into my backside until I was tender, crying out, protesting with each blow.

"It hurts," I begged.

 "Hmmm.. you're right. My hand does hurt," he murmured, and rummaged in the drawer for something. I felt the cool faux leather of his old belt brush against my heated skin and I inhaled sharply, anticipating the blow that was to come to my already tenderized flesh. It did not disappoint. I yelped loudly as it smashed against me.

"Oh my God, it hurts so much," I whimpered as he kept striking my ass and the backs of my thighs with the belt. I squirmed. I wanted it over and I didn't want it over at all. I wanted it to go on forever but I thought that might just destroy me.

"Poor thing," he whispered, giving me a break, smoothing his hand gently over my heated bottom. I gasped as even his gentle touch hurt. A flogger, then, glorious and soft and cool, draping over my burning rear, trailing its tiny knots up my back. Oh, it felt amazing, soothing my pain as it settled from a fiery burning sting to a deep ache.

"Ahhhhhhh," I breathed out with relief, and then he was flogging me. Smack, swish, smack. Oh, that felt divine too, the softness of the cold rope falls thudding into and gliding over my hot skin, my legs, my back. I was squirming in an altogether different way, presenting my ass to him and writhing in sheer pleasure as long soft moans of delight came from me.

"Turn over," he ordered after a long time of this.

I moaned at the thought of putting weight on my back and ass, but I did it. My bottom complained, but it settled to a dull roar as my husband began to flog my breasts. Oh. Yes, I like that. My body surged up into the blows, offering my breasts to the lash of the flogger each time it retreated. My mouth was open, a stream of delighted gasps and pleased moans issuing from it. I was on, all right.

Suddenly, he was on top of me, and his cock was sliding into my extremely wet pussy. I groaned as his hardness filled up all the space inside me, and he thrust down into me a few times, making me clench around him and purr with the delicious feeling of being impaled.

He withdrew far too soon, though, and slid up my body to slide his cock into my mouth, letting me taste my own arousal on his skin. I was out of my mind with want, and I sucked on him fervently. But then he was gone. He was sitting on my midsection, and I heard sounds. My head was still tossed back, my eyes squeezed shut - wet sounds were coming from him, but he wasn't moving.

Oh, God, what is he doing? I thought to myself, and slowly, slowly, I moved my head to look at him.

He was straddling my midsection, slowly masturbating his hard cock. The wet sounds were the moisture from my body on his cock as his foreskin slid over the shaft. "What if I just sit here and masturbate? What will you do?"

I groaned, twisting beneath him, mouth open, tilting my hips up more. I thrashed. There was no way I could get to his cock with any part of me, the way he was sitting.

"I see. You'll go crazy. Which part of you should I fuck?" he asked deliberately, still sliding his foreskin over the head of his cock. "Does your mouth want it more? Or your pussy?"

"I don't care, I just want it in me," I panted, and even as I spoke he was sliding down between my legs.

"Was that an order? I don't take orders so well, you know." He nudged the head of his cock against my sex, letting it slip inside just a very little bit.

"God, no, please... please fuck me," I begged, tilting my hips up to him.

"That's better," he whispered, letting his cock press all the way into me. "Good fuck toy," he said, a groan from him indicating how good it felt, even as I was gasping with the sensations flooding me.

A blur. Moving, sighing, whispered words of pleasure, love, dominance. Oh, it felt amazing.

After he was finished, his fingers found their way inside me and I was screaming. Screaming, as he said "Come for me, yes, good girl, come for me - merry Christmas, fuck hole."

Over and over. Until I was begging for him to stop, for the pleasure to end. Begging, because I was exhausted, soaked with sweat, and sore. My muscles vibrated with the intensity of the repeated release.

But "lots of orgasms" is what I asked for.

He does love to give me what I want.