Insistence

I adore anal sex. I love the way it makes me feel; I love the entire process of preparing for it. First me cleansing myself, and then my master slowly lubricating me and stretching me out to take his cock. It makes me feel owned, it makes me feel cherished, it makes me feel used and taken and claimed and adored. When my master's cock is buried in my helpless ass, I am truly a sex slave.

I often wind up preparing myself for it, making sure all is clean and pleasant, when there will be none forthcoming. Sometimes I am prepared and my master suggests it and I find myself struck with a sudden fear, and I shake my head furiously and I protest, despite the fact that another part of me is desperately aching for his cock to force its way into my ass.

So it was this time. He'd already fucked my breasts, my face, and my pussy for an extended time in three different positions. He was on top of me with my feet hooked around his ankles when he said it. "I think it's time for me to fuck your ass, now," he whispered in the voice he uses when he wants to send tingles all over me.

 It worked. I shivered, but shook my head. "Nuh-uh," I grunted.

"Yeah," he said, as if I hadn't responded at all, "I really should be fucking your ass right now, shouldn't I?"

"Nuh-uh," I whimpered again.

"'Nuh-uh'? That's what it's for, isn't it? Isn't it just another hole for me to fuck?"

I shook with the force of his words. I nodded helplessly. It's not even really my choice. I gave that to him. I could stop him, but I never would unless I truly needed to. Then he slowly prepared me to take his cock in my ass, to be the collection of fuck holes that I so long to be.

And I am one lucky sex slave.

Fucking with a vengeance

My life is brilliant. Every night I fall asleep in the arms of my delicious, fantastic, sexy husband who, even half asleep, keeps mumbling about how happy he is with me and how much he loves me.

Every night.

My life is a fairy tale dream from which I have no desire to be awakened.

It must be real, though, because the pain of his fingers clamping down on my nipple still makes me scream. My screams still seem to cause him to erupt. Those pinches do not change my reality except to sharpen it.

He revels in the power I have gifted him over my entire being.

"Your body is mine," he murmurs against my temple.

"Yes sir," I whisper in response.

"Your soul is mine," he says roughly, directly into my ear, and I shudder. His hand is causing pain somewhere. Slapping my breasts, making me arch into him, or perhaps smacking into my spread open vulva.

Step 3: Fuck the slave girl's brains out

Step 2 is here.

He climbs atop me and he slips his cock against my entrance. He's slow, easing it into me even though I would surge up into him and devour him into me. When he is completely buried inside me and I am pulsing around him, he grinds. He rocks into my clit just so and he's saying something about me, about owning me and me existing for his pleasure and being there for his cock. My body arches into him and I tremble, a series of short sharp pants emerging from my mouth.

"Did I say you could come again?" he asks sharply.

"Oh, God, no," I whimper, shaking. He wants this, wants me to come on command, and I'm not so good at it. But I can stop, though I tremble with the effort.

He puts his head down so that his lips are near my ear as he growls. "Then don't. I'll tell you when you can come."

My head swims. It swims and pounds and I'm not sure exactly what he's doing but it's making me crazy. I groan, shuddering, at the edge of orgasm - right where he put me.

"Now," he finally says, driving his cock down into me, his lips still at my ear. "Come for me now!"

I do. I let go of the tenuous thread holding me to sanity and I fly, screaming, into the blissful abyss where he has sent me.

Time stretches, suspends, as he continues fucking me. He is brilliant, a sex god, a lover of epic proportions and all I want is to please him and feel the pleasure he gains from me in all the ways he does.

"I'm going to fuck your ass next," he growls down at me. I whimper.

"You like the sound of that?" he asks.

It occurs to me now, that a lot of what he says during sex is making sure I'm happy. At the time it sounds like growling, sounds like orders and like him requiring me to vocalize. But he wants to be wanted too - of course he does. I wonder how much of his pleasure comes from knowing how much he pleases me. I think it might be a lot. I know he likes this blog, likes having the window into my experience of him.

I do like the sound of it - anal sex - his cock invading my ass, pushing me open, claiming me. I like the sound of it very very much. He circles his hips against me and I arch up into him. "Yes, Master, I like your cock invading me," I gasp.

He pulls away from me. Oh, no. Now I'm empty. I groan with disappointment as he rolls to my side.

"Is the poor girl empty?" he asks gently, not too mockingly.

I dive after his wet cock with my mouth, making sure to cover my lip with my hand again. I lick my arousal off of him, suck him as best I can, while he gets the lube from the nightstand drawer.

"Turn over, girl," he finally says once he has retrieved the tube of slippery substance.

I do. I turn my back to him, bend myself nearly in half to provide him access to the part he wants. I'm shaking. I'm excited and a little afraid. We have anal sex rarely enough that each time is a little scary. Will he push too hard? Will he make it hurt? Will he go slowly enough so it's not overwhelming pain?

And this time, after the lube is applied and my tiny opening prepared for him, he is perfect. I reach behind me and hold his cock steady, and he pushes just a tiny bit, then retreats and repeats. Over and over, each time entering me just a little more, making me open for him, penetrating my resistance as I moan deeply. It's overwhelming but not with pain, just sensation and awe at how absolutely perfect the entire experience is.

"Going to fuck your ass," he growls as he is finally all the way inside me. He grabs my hip and thrusts. I cry out - it's amazing, he feels amazing. My muscles squeeze around his foreskin and his cock slides within it as it's meant to.

His hand cups my breast, lifts the warm weight of it. His fingers press gently around my nipple. "Going to pinch your nipple," he says roughly, right in my ear.

Shivers run down my spine. "Okay," I whimper.

"Going to pinch it hard," he continues.

Oh, God. "Okay," I whimper again.

"Going to pinch your nipple hard while I fuck you in the ass," he clarifies.

"Oh my God," I moan, and then he is doing what he said, slowly compressing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until I squeal with the pain of it. It's intense, and sharp, and he never stops moving his cock.

"Does it hurt, slave?" he asks. When I merely continue squealing he says "Good. Good girl."

He stops pinching, and he slaps. He slaps my nipple and I groan. It burns, it stings, then it tingles. My nipple turns into a little pebble and he slaps it again. He's talking now too, something about ownership and pain and love.

I am out of my mind with pleasure, but he is pulling my leg backward over his waist. It's slightly different than vaginal sex in this position, but he still has free access to my pussy - now pulled open for his enjoyment. He's talking, still, as his fingers find my wetness and play there. Fingers enter my body, my flesh separating his fingers from his cock, and I moan. "Is my girl full?" he asks.

I am beyond words. I respond but it's a mumbled grunt. God, I love being his, I love him filling me up, love having him occupy my body and my space. I think about sex with him so often that when it does happen - every time it happens, even if it's every day - it's like a long-desired dream coming true.

I cannot say all that, but the feeling of it rushes through me and I scream as his fingers work their magic, as his cock fucks me in a place no one else has ever even touched me.

He comes - he must have come - but I can't process it. I'm too far gone. His fingers gently stroke me as I come down from the mountain. We're still in the same position, my leg backward around his waist, his softening cock in my ass. My hand closest to him fumbles around, trying to find a place to touch him - his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, his head, and back again. My arm can't find a place where I can rest it on him without it sliding off. It's a weak sort of floppy arm movement and he laughs at me.

"What are you doing with that arm, girl?" he laughs.

"Want to love you," I mutter. He moves his arm, crooks it so that his forearm is holding mine in place so I can rest my hand on him comfortably.

I am spent.

---

But much later, when I am almost asleep and I am wrapped around him from behind, squeezing him and kissing his neck softly as I drowse, he suddenly says "Turn over so I can fuck you some more."

Oh my God. My stomach does flip-flips. Just to hear those words come out of his mouth sends me all aflutter. I do as he's asked, and he has his way with me from behind. It's like a birthday and a road trip and an excellent homecooked meal all rolled into one. This happens even more rarely than anal, that he interrupts my sleep to take me.

"Where did that come from?" I ask him.

"Mmm, I was thinking about how sexy you are and I got turned on and I thought I should take it since it's mine."

Holy hell. Hotter words were never spoken.

Helpless

Right now, I'm barely managing to get around my apartment.

We went hiking, and I sprained the hell out of my ankle after nearly 4.5 miles on the trail. Thankfully it was a loop, and we were almost finished, so the ranger station was close. My love fetched a ranger to help us.

But now I am injured, and one of my deepest, darkest, most frightening and, yes, most exciting fantasies is to be used while being genuinely injured. The fear of possibly being hurt more, the true helplessness, it all blends together beautifully in my brain. I have a swollen, aching foot and the opposite knee is a mass of bruised tissue that hurts really badly as well.

It's been exhausting, relying on my arms, my good knee, and my good foot to get around. My brilliant, loving, sexy husband has been amazing - helpful and solicitous. He's let me give him blow jobs, and he's touched me, brought me to orgasm with his fingers, but he's been terrified of hurting me further - overwhelming me with gentleness. Which feels lovely and like love and I adore him for it, but I was ready for something a little rougher after a few days.

In the mean time, I had been sinking into the feeling of uselessness that comes with not being able to do much. I began to feel more and more like a useless lump of humanity.

I told him. I steeled myself for his shock or disgust, but I should know by now it's hard to faze this man. Even so, revealing these little hidden bits of myself feels terrifying. I told him that my injuries turned me on, made me feel actually, truly helpless. Not like I could get up and run away or anything.

And my man. My wonderful, open-minded, beautiful man who apparently would in actual fact do anything to make me happy, he responded by turning into an evil sadist bastard and beating me, just like I'd asked. He started once we were in bed and he was holding me, long enough after the conversation that I was a little surprised when he went for my ass.

My ass already hurt from sitting on it way too much with my foot up to keep the swelling down, but he didn't care as his hand smacked into my backside. I squealed, I stretched, I squirmed, but I couldn't even kick my injured foot out, couldn't stretch and push away from him with it. Couldn't bash my bruised knee into his leg. I couldn't do much of anything except accept it, cry out, process the pain.

Oh, how I processed the pain. It was brutal but it was teetering on the edge of orgasmic. My brain really, really processed it. It took that pain and wrung every morsel of feeling out of it, through the entire gamut from true discomfort to bliss. He wasn't holding back either, or if he was I couldn't tell. It hurt, and it felt incredible, all at once.

I carefully turned onto my other side, my back toward him, and he had an even better swing now, even more force into my backside. He brought a flogger into play then, smacking the heavy rope strands into my back, my ass, the backs of my legs. It felt incredibly heavy, nearly unbearable, and my body writhed. My foot wanted to push against the mattress, to stretch and to fight, but I had to keep it still or suffer even more.

"You can't get away from me," he growled into my ear, his free hand tangling into and tugging on my hair, "and I think I will fuck you tonight."

I whimpered in response, feeling my body respond, swell, lubricate for the fucking he was promising. But not yet.

My arms were over my head to protect my face and neck from any stray strands of the flogger, and he was taking a break, dragging the soft trailing nylon ends against my skin, making me purr. And then he targeted my breasts - a heavy smack of the heavy rope into my nipple. A knot caught me right on center and the breath whooshed out of me.

"Oh fuck," I breathed out, stretching as much as I could, thrusting my chest forward for more. Holy shit, that was incredible. I can't remember the last time he'd flogged my breasts and my breast was singing a hallelujah chorus of delight while my nipple simultaneously screamed in pain.

"Oh, I think you like that," he growled as he did it again, and again, and again. I screamed for the joy of it, for the pain of it when a knot would catch my nipple again, about every third strike.

"Don't even think of trying to get away," he said, trading the flogger for a braided version that terrifies me when he uses it on my ass. The nylon braids stroked my screaming nipple, made me gasp and whimper. "Writhe for me, girl, writhe. Good fuck toy," he whispered into my ear, swinging the braids down hard against my breast. "If you try to get away, I'll just have to drag you back and beat you more. Can you imagine how much that would hurt?"

I nodded, whimpering with a kind of aroused fear that is completely unique. The thought of him dragging me back to him and beating me after I'd tried to run away on my damaged foot made me even wetter as I writhed under the heavy blows from the braided flogger.

"Oh you are turning me on, girl," he said, moving the bedclothes from between us and letting me feel his erection against my sore ass. "I do think I will have to fuck you," he continued when I moaned my pleasure at feeling him. I moaned and wriggled, leaning forward to provide him easier access to do just that.

"Good hole," he murmured, pressing his hard cock against my slippery opening and resting with just the head inside, until I wriggled.

His fingers stroked my aching nipple and I begged. "Nipple hurts," I whimpered.

"Yeah? That's interesting," he said, squeezing it tighter, making me scream. I wriggled back against him again, wanting more cock, so turned on by his control.

"You want more cock?" he asked. "You want this cock to fuck you?"

"Yes, oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I begged.

And he did. He slid inside, pulling me to him by squeezing my breasts. My ass burned where he'd beaten it, a pleasantly aching reminder when his skin brushed mine. My breasts were still singing joyfully at having been flogged, my nipple screaming in burning agony while he held it tightly, and I loved all of it.

I was so wet. Surely I was wet enough he could fuck my ass. I wanted him to fuck my ass. I wanted to feel completely invaded by him, and I shifted a little to try it.

It wouldn't even go in a little bit. Not even the tiniest, little bit. I groaned my frustration as he resumed fucking my more willing opening.

But later, he went for it himself. He pushed me forward as he fucked me. "You want me to fuck your ass, slave?" he asked. "You want your master to invade you? Would that make you feel more used?"

"Oh my God, yes," I responded, panting, insane with the want of that.

He lubed my ass while he fucked my pussy, making me groan and whimper at the fullness of his finger in my backside.

And then his cock was aimed at the opening that had already rejected him once, but this was his decision and it was going in. As the head made it through I screamed, groaned, and bucked. So intense. Too intense. Couldn't handle it. My body tried to get away even as my brain relished the overload.

"Not going anywhere, fuck hole," he informed me, gripping my hair in one hand, my hip in the other, and pushing steadily onward - but slowly enough I felt properly invaded, not ripped open. It was delicious. "Going to fuck your ass now," he said, and he did.

His hand went back to my nipple, tortured me there a bit while he moved, and then moved between my legs. "Give me that pussy," he growled into my ear, and I opened my legs for him to touch me there, whimpering as his fingers contacted my sensitive clitoris. His cock never stopped moving in my ass, never stopped feeling amazing, as his fingers began to work their magic on my other bits. His thumb was on my clit and he sank some unknown (to me) number of fingers inside my pussy.

"Oh my God, too much, I can't," I groaned as he overloaded my brain with sensation and my body with fullness.

"Too much?" he asked. "No such thing. This is what you're for. You're for your master to fuck and to fill as much as he wants. Isn't that right?"

Oh God, I thought, you're right, I'm for you to fuck. 

All that could make it out through my groans was "Yes sir,"

"Your ass makes such a good fuck hole," he growled as his fingers moved in my pussy. My ass clenched on him.

Oh. And I wanted to say You like fucking my good fuck hole? but the thought of saying it was too much and I started to tremble there, impaled on his various parts.

"Oooh," he said, knowing an impending orgasm when he feels one. "My girl is going to come for me while I fuck her ass, isn't she?"

"uhhhh-huh," I groaned, tremors racing over my body.

"Go on then, fuck hole, come while I fuck your ass," he growled, and the thought of it was too much, with his fingers moving inside me, against my clit, his cock in my ass. I came screaming and wishing I could say the things in my head that were contributing to making me come.

The orgasm lasted a long time - he drew it out on purpose with his fingers, his cock, and his voice. When my body was finally limp and relaxed, he pushed against me again. "Not done with you, fuck slave," he said. "You're going to come with my cock fucking your ass again."

It's not hard for him, once he's gotten me there once, to drive me there over and over to the point of exhaustion. So that's what he did this time, finally culminating with his own orgasm.

"You want me to come in your ass, slave? You want your master to fill you up? You want to feel well-used?"

"Oh, fuck, yes," I whispered, hoarse from screaming my own pleasure, still seriously enjoying the sensations of his cock and his hand moving on my sensitive parts.

He groaned his own release into my ear, pulling me tightly to him.

As I stretched in his embrace, practically purring as my faculties of speech came back to me, I said "It's strange that you have to treat me like an object to make me feel like a person again."

He stroked my hair. "Maybe I treat you how you want to be treated, and that acknowledges your wants and desires and makes you feel like a person."

He's a smart man.

And hella sexy.

Carnal magic

"Turn over so I can beat you," he says. We've just been chatting on the bed and it's pretty late.

"Don't you mean turn over so we can go to sleep?" I ask.

"No... turn over so I can beat you," he repeats.

I turn over. I know better than to argue further. "I like my idea better," I sass into the pillow.

"Sure you do," he says, knowing I lie through my teeth. He shoves my shirt up halfway my back, smacks my ass with his hand until I yelp. Then he starts flogging me with a soft lovely caressing flogger that makes me sigh with pleasure. "You like that, girl?" he asks.

I do.

He switches - a hard thudding flogger that makes me yelp as it thumps into me. "You like THAT, girl?" he asks.

I do.

He switches again. I lose track. I can feel my ass warming up as he keeps switching floggers. When he switches back to the lovely soft one, it actually hurts a little.

"Oh, this ass is starting to be a nice shade of red," he says.

He uses the crop on me after I am already red. The tops of my thighs get special attention. I lift my ass into it, as the pain transmutes into pleasure, as the burn makes me wet.

He finishes soon after the crop - first his hand smacks into me a few times for good measure.

"Be naked," he says, and so I am.

He kisses me, pulls me to him, lets his hands wander over my body. His teeth find my nipple, bite it until I squeal with pleasure/pain, and then his hands are spanking my breasts, making me moan.

His fingers wander between my thighs, find the incredible wetness there, tease me. He spanks my inner thighs with his hand, over and over, covering all of the flesh there until it burns and I try to close my legs. He knocks them apart and continues spanking them. I close them again, he knocks them apart - three, four times.

I am moaning, my thighs are burning, and he starts slapping my pussy. My soaking wet pussy that wants him to fuck it. He slaps at an angle, into my mound, and I am halfway to an orgasm already. It feels amazing until it starts to hurt. I whimper.  "Am I hurting your poor pussy?" he asks, his voice dripping with false concern.

"Yes," I squeal as he slaps me there again.

"Does your pussy want me?" he asks. He stops slapping me, lets his fingers stroke my clit - my throbbing, needy clit. I moan.

"Yes," I murmur. It's bloody obvious anyway.

"Does your mouth want me?" he continues.

"Yes," I answer.

"Does your ass want me?" he finishes.

I moan.

"What a slut that makes you. My slut," he growls into my ear, his hand tugging on my hair.

"Get on top of me," he says, and so I do. Carnal magic. He conjures sex.

My clit grinds against him as I rock. It's too much, too good.

"You're coming, aren't you? Yeah, fuck yeah, come for me," he says, and I must.

"You want to get off me?" he asks, later, knowing my arms must be tired.

I don't.

"I'll still fuck you," he promises. "Or maybe you'd like to suck my cock?"

I moan.

"Yeah. You want this hard, wet cock fucking your face, don't you?" He slaps my ass, forces me to rock atop him, and I am coming again as he talks.

My wrists are complaining and so I lift off him, slide down between his legs, take the slick hardness of him in my mouth. He is salty, sweet, intoxicating, all the arousal he has generated in me making him taste like that.

My wrists don't like this either, after a while. I roll to my side, and he is in my mouth again, fucking into my throat, holding my head. I start to pull away - it is too much, my throat hurts, my stomach isn't sure how it feels - but he grabs me, holds me, is fucking my face regardless. I know if I could get a word in he would stop, but at the moment I don't want to get a word in.

"Turn over so I can fuck your ass," he orders, pulling his cock from my mouth. He slaps my face with his cock - with his hard, heavy cock. It surprises me and I squeal. He does it again. He likes to make me squeal. Finally he stops, and I whimper as I obey. It's been a long time since we've had anal sex. I try to relax, but that's like trying not to think about something; it doesn't work that well.

His fingers are cool and slippery and feel nice when they touch my tiny hole, but I am so sensitive that I shriek, squirming away a little. He holds me still, slides his fingers deep inside me there. It feels amazing.

He stops, too soon. To take so long with sex in general and yet to rush this part feels so wasteful. His cock presses against me now, and I groan. It's not going to work.

"Give me that ass," he growls, and that sends a rush of heat through me. I try. I push back on him, but it's not going to work. He adds lube, but it's like his cock hit a wall, and as I wriggle, almost-but-not-quite-impaled on the end of his cock, I feel him softening, losing the rigidity that is a must to enter this particular territory.

Not easily discouraged from sex in general, he pulls away to replace his cock with his fingers. They slide inside my ass, inside my pussy, fuck me in both places at once. I scream with the pure joy of it. He adds even more lube. "I think your ass likes that," he says as I moan deeply, helplessly. "I think I should find something to plug it with."

It takes him a moment to locate, but he finds it: The Big End. SO BIG. I am on my belly as he presses it in, and I moan. "You can take it," he says, knowing he's put it there before. I scream as it finally passes the largest part, locking itself inside me. I am panting, but then his fingers are stroking my clit, sliding inside my pussy. I am screaming again because I am so sensitive and I am coming, again, again, again."Oh my God," I beg as I try to catch a breath between orgasms, but that is all he lets me say before he wriggles his finger and makes me come again, again, again.

I am twisting, sweating, panting. I can't. "I can't," I pant, but he is not about to let me finish a thought. More, more, more. I scream and I come and come and come. I feel his cock hardening against my thigh as my screams lengthen and grow hoarser.

"You can't what, girl? Can't stop? Who said you could stop?" he asks. His finger drives me insane and makes me scream until I think I might explode.

"I am going to fuck you," he whispers into my ear. "Right after I'm done making you come."

I writhe. I am a fuck puppet, nothing but a neverending orgasm, a helpless mass of twitching nerve endings.

"Turn over and give me your pussy," he finally says. I can barely breathe, much less move. I claw at the mattress to help me turn over on my side.

His cock slides into me - forces its way into me. "SO FULL!" I exclaim as he slowly drives into me.

"So mine," he growls. "So nice of you to stop coming for a second so I could get my cock in you." He grabs me, and begins to thrust into me in earnest, moving my body against him like a rag doll. "But if you still want to come, don't let me stop you," he says, fucking into me harder. The plug is forcing his cock into my g-spot and it doesn't take long before I am screaming again, a final orgasm ripping through me. I squeal helplessly as it shakes me, and he makes a noise - a contented hunter's noise, as he fucks me right into his own climax.

"You're so fucking incredible," I whisper hoarsely as his arm around my waist pulls me closer to him, as I gather enough energy for actual words. My mind is blown.

"You're pretty incredible yourself," he says.

As long as he wants to, I'll let him keep thinking that.

Three weeks

He is so sexy. He was talking near-constantly. "You like it when I do things to your face? To your head? Yeah? Me too. It feels intimate, doesn't it?" His hand was pressing against my face, he pulled my hair, he pressed my head hard against his chest. I cried out each time, unable to contain the extreme emotions he was causing in me - and oh, God, the arousal. The desire. I was right there with him and he was keeping it that way with his constant stream of words.

"I like taking you for my own." His hand slipped between my legs, where I was a slippery mess. His thumb across my clit made me gasp. I felt his cock press against my thigh and I groaned and pressed my body toward it.

"You want something, girl?"

"Cock... cock," I pleaded, my hips moving with his fingers. He was pressing my g-spot and I screamed.

"I'm going to try something new. You don't get any cock - until you come for me." His fingers continued their dance and I whimpered, so sensitive, wanting him to fill me up.

"Oh, God. Please. Please." I writhed under him - he climbed atop me and rubbed his cock against my splayed-open sex.

"Not until you come for me. I suppose I could be extra mean and take my hand away. That would make it pretty hard for you to come, wouldn't it?"

"Yes sir..." I was terrified he would do that.

"Good thing for you I like making you come." His cock rubbed against me, his fingertips delicately stroked my clit.

"Oh, please." I arched up, moaning, trying to tempt his cock into me. It clearly wanted to be there.

"Gonna come for me?"

"No,  please... please."

"No? You don't seem to understand how this works. You come for me when I tell you to. You're mine."

"Oh, God... please." I was melting beneath him, turning into nothing but a puddle of need. His fingers know exactly where to touch me and they were making sublime use of that knowledge. Participating in the conversation became more and more difficult as the pleasure built inside my head.

"You don't need that cock."

"I do!"

"You don't need it. You don't need it at all." His fingers worked their magic through all his words, and as I was protesting that I did need his cock, I felt the spasms start. A deep moan started in the back of my throat and soon I was screaming.

"Good girl. Good fuck toy," he praised me. He kept his fingers moving - forcing another orgasm out of me.

My voice was strained when I could resume normal speech again, but still I begged. "Oh, please fuck me now.."

He complied, moving his hand out of the way and sinking deeply into my body, making me groan as his girth stretched me. "What do you even want with that cock?" he asked roughly.

"Feels so good," I whispered, rolling my hips up into him.

"You can't even come with that cock there. What kind of slut gives up orgasms for cock?" He pressed me down, pinning me to the mattress with his cock. I groaned. I love that.

"I... I can come with the cock there." It's true - it's happened. Not terribly often.

"Sure you can. Uh-huh."

I was beyond response, lost in sensation, not caring about his disbelief. I wasn't going to come with his cock in me like that, but who cares when it feels so fucking fabulous?

Glorious fucking. How do people not like sex? Seriously. Though definitely the right partner makes a huge difference.

He was asking me something. The fog of pleasure, the words he'd been pouring into me, were changing. This was a question.

"Maybe I should fuck your ass. Would you like that?" He ground his hips against me, his hot length pulsing inside me, generating an answering pulse, a clench, from my inner walls.

"Oh yes," I answered, the words perhaps a bit slurred, drunk on sensation as I was. I would like that very fucking much, in fact. But my hands were clutching his hips, pulling him into me over and over, not particularly willing to give up this present pleasure for a future one - even if the future was immediate.

Since he's the one in charge, though, he pulled away from me, leaving me empty as he rolled to lie next to me. I whimpered with the loss even as I turned my back to him.

"Poor girl just wants to be full of cock, doesn't she?" he whispered as he squeezed lube onto his fingers. I whimpered as he applied it to my ass, squealing a little when his finger penetrated me there. "Good girl," he whispered, and then it was his cock pressing against me - hard and impossibly big. He applied slow, steady pressure. "Take it, girl," he coaxed as I groaned.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," I whimpered as he slowly speared me. And then - oh, God - then the head of his cock entered my clenching ass in such a way that it felt so fucking incredible and all I could do was groan with a deep, unbelievable pleasure. He wasn't even all the way in me and I felt like I could come again any moment.

"Good fuck hole," he said, pulling back just slightly and pressing all the way in, making my cries spiral up into the darkness. "Take it, bitch." He grabbed my hip and pulled me back onto him, his other hand tangling in my hair, the elbow of that arm in the center of my back - both pulling me toward him by the hair and pressing me forward, keeping me from relieving the pressure on my scalp. I love that so much. The noises coming from me were animalistic - grunts, groans, uncontrollable noises of pleasure and overwhelmed sensations. That noise - the vibrating one that sounds like several voices coming from my throat at once - that one - started coming out of me as he fucked my ass, and he talked.

He talked and fucked, pulled and pushed, and I screamed, writhed, and existed as a mass of nerve endings for him to excite.

He excites me so fucking well.

When he came, I felt each spurt expanding his cock, making it feel even bigger inside me, impossible to accommodate, but I did. Of course I did. That's what I'm for - accommodating him.

I am mainly in the lifestyle to get my brains fucked out.

So far, it's working very very well.

Imagine this - multiply it by three weeks - pile a bunch of physical labor into the mix - and you get why I haven't been around much. Having the screaming sex trumps writing about it every single time.

I do like the writing though.

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.

Hot anal action

I've had company for a while - it's made writing extraordinarily difficult. I'm back now though, and hopefully better than ever!

Readers will be happy to know that my last piece inspired all sorts of tingle-inspiring behavior in our bedroom over the past week. Most of them have faded into the mists of memory, washed out a bit by each successive experience. When my man is on, he is on.

My next thrilling tale is the fourth instance of anal play since my previous post, and it is a shocker. At least it was for me.

---

Having company for an extended period of time means that each night we go to bed quite late - having indulged in shared entertainment for bonding purposes with our guest really cuts into alone time. I don't begrudge it, because the bonding is good - I bond with my husband in slightly different ways during that time as well. Not being alone is okay, as long as we still get to fall into bed with our arms around each other.

Sunday night always reeks of lost potential. Monday morning looms, an early morning that will more than likely be even earlier due to having a small person who takes a while to adjust to the fact that the clocks have turned back. But, just in case, I performed my evening rituals the same as always. I was clean and damp when I crawled between the sheets next to my lover, and his arms went around me to pull me closer. 

We talked of assorted things, of the lovely day we had, of my friends, of a show we've started watching and the one we'd seen live that afternoon. Zombies, fairy tales, and spelling bees. Just a normal night's pillow talk. Somewhere in the midst of the conversation, his hand started wandering over my skin beneath my shirt, cupping and kneading my breast, raising goosebumps with the tips of his fingers across my stomach.

I wasn't very wet when he reached between my legs, but I was gasping. I wanted to fuck. I curled away from him to give him better access, and his fingers stroked from my pussy up across my anus, making me shiver and moan softly. 

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice a low growl. Zombies and fairy tales were long forgotten. His finger stroked around my rear entrance as he pressed his cock against the back of my thigh. 

"Oh, God," I moaned again, inhaling sharply.

"Mmm, I think I'll take this cock and shove it in your ass. How do you feel about that?"

My entire body throbbed at his words. My throat closed and I squeaked, a shudder shaking me. His fingers moved back to my pussy, stroking around it. "Does this pussy want cock?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," I choked out. I felt lube, cool and soothing on his fingers as he stroked it against my ass, lubricating, stretching, and then his finger was inside me there. I groaned loudly. "Oh God, oh my God," I chanted, my hips moving slightly away from him as he slid inside me a little deeper.

Too soon, he removed his finger. I shivered in anticipation and a little fear. What if he hadn't stretched me enough? What if it hurt too much and I couldn't bear it? What if he made me anyway? I could feel my pussy creaming, my delicate membranes sliding against each other as I wriggled.

Hard does not really begin to describe how his cock felt when he pressed it against my tiny hole. "Take it," he urged, as I groaned and wriggled, effectively impaling myself as he applied a steady forward pressure, claiming my body as his fuck toy. "Such a good fuck hole," he whispered to me, his hand roaming my side as he was fully buried in my behind. My body was wracked with shudders and I was unbelievably aroused by this turn of events. I shook there, his cock buried in my ass, his hand on my throat, his other hand squeezing my breast. My own loss of control excited me even more and spurred more shudders, and he was still, just waiting until I stopped shaking and crying out.

He began to move once I stopped shaking - slow, steady thrusts deeper into me. "How does it feel to have a cock fucking your ass?" he asked roughly.

"Oh God, it feels helpless," I squeaked. So not sexy, I couldn't help but think about the squeaking. But the thought wasn't a long one, there was not room for much thought with his cock continuing to claim me, with the sensations pouring over me.

"My ass to fuck," he said in my ear. Shivers. Every time. I may have squealed loudly as his words pushed me into a free-fall deep into the well of submission.

I began to squeeze on him, and he seemed to appreciate this, his noises of pleasure growing louder each time I did. In the end, he was somehow managing to make me feel fucked hard while still being slow and careful, holding my body pulled tightly against his. He groaned quite loudly as he emptied himself inside me, pressing into me and continuing to move slowly, making me groan with sensation long after his pleasure had culminated.

"Oh my God," I kept whispering as we lay there together, disbelief at the entire situation combined with the amazing sensations still coursing through my body leaving me with not much else to say. I opened my legs, tossing one over his hip, and backed against him, his softening cock still inside me. His hand clutched my breast. I let my fingertips graze my sex and found it thickly coated with my slippery juices, making myself gasp at my body's blatant display of arousal. 

When I moved my hand to his and tried to dislodge it from my breast, his initial reaction was to clutch me tighter. When he realized that I wasn't trying to make him let me go, he let me move his hand to my pussy. "Oooh, pussy likes to be touched when it's wet, I see," he said, as his fingers stroked my clit, and slipped inside me. 

"Oh please, oh please don't stop," I begged him as he touched me. As I rocked up to his touch, his cock eventually slid out of my ass... and that's when he replaced it with his finger.

Explosions have nothing on what was going on between my legs, and behind my eyes. His fingers were everywhere, fuck, descriptions can only be a pale imitation. My ass was full, my clit was stimulated, I think something was in my pussy but that may have been a clever trick of pressure. 

I came. Holy hell, I came. My hips were lifted up and my legs were splayed wide and I was panting and gasping, vibrating and screaming. 

That's when I realized his leg and his hand were keeping me from closing my legs. My thighs struggled against his not-weakened-by-orgasm body and I couldn't stop him, I couldn't turn away. 

"Oh please, oh.. please," I pleaded, not knowing if I was begging for him to stop or continue. I was pinned in that position - he pushed into my ass a little harder and I screamed with pleasure, his fingers going crazy on my delicate, throbbing clit. I screamed and squealed and twisted but no matter what I did I could not close my legs and it was so fucking hot that I came again just thinking about it.

His fingers soothed me, and there was a quiet time when I thought he was drifting asleep. Oh, fuck, holy fuck, is he falling asleep with his hand inside me like this? I thought to myself. I was out of my mind, if he was doing such a thing, if he was claiming me to that extent... oh, hell, I could feel my insides throb at the thought of it. I shifted to relieve some of the arousal.

"Good fuck toy," he growled, shoving deeper into my ass, opening me up. His thumb had been almost expelled from me and he forced it in again, making me squeal. His fingers were dancing on my clit again, my legs still splayed and unable to close. 

"Oh my God," I began chanting again, and did not stop, though sometimes it was louder and sometimes it was softer, as he drove me to more orgasms, stretched up, his fingers impaling my soft, sensitive bits over and over, massaging the maximum pleasure from me until I thought I would go insane.

When it was over, and I was trembling helplessly against him, he gently disengaged his hand and pulled me into his arms, holding my head against his chest. I kept whispering "Oh my God" for a good few minutes as he stroked my hair and back.

The moral of the story?

Tell my man what I like, even if it seems like a dead end and I have to keep repeating myself.

Because holy fuck, once he gets something, he really fucking gets it.

Anal angst

If the title is not warning enough, this post may be a little too much information for some. 

---

I love anal sex.

There was a time in my marriage when I, as the more sexually educated half of us, the one who was more aware of the things she wanted and needed, perhaps should have stepped up to educate my husband a little better.

I mean, really, how hard is it to say "Lots of lube, love, and go slow, but often, please?"

Harder than you'd think. My submissive sexuality only complicated matters, since I so often confused "Giving him what he wants" with "Waiting until he finds out what he wants and then asks for it." My husband, while I adore him and think he's amazing, is not the most proactive of souls. He doesn't actively seek out things on his own the way I do. I still have remnants of that problem drifting around due to this fundamental part of his makeup.

What I did instead worked, but I don't recommend it. It can lead to some confusion.

I would bathe, cleaning myself thoroughly, inside and out - this part I still do. Afterward, my skin still damp from the bath, my long hair dripping down my back, I would lean over the bed provocatively to lube myself. The fantasy playing in my head in those instances was always one of non-consent. 

"No, not in my ass, oh, oh, that's so sensitive, please don't, don't," I would beg my imaginary tormentor as my own fingers made me slippery and ready for penetration. A subfantasy would often run alongside this one, that my husband would walk in and find me like that, call me names, tell me what a dirty, dirty girl I was. He'd be overcome with lust and take me, forcing me to stay bent over as he slid into my pre-prepared ass. 

"How nice of the dirty girl to lube her ass for me to fuck," he'd say as he slammed into me and I groaned, protesting, writhing, kicking my feet uselessly.

That never happened. He'd always stay in the other room politely until I came out.

The fact that I often screamed quite loudly in surprised terror the few times he did walk in on me (not in lube-mode) when I wasn't expecting it didn't help either.

So, unbeknownst to the man, I would be pre-prepared for anal. Later, during sex, I would ease myself off his cock, shift, making my desires known, and he would slide into my ass.

The worst part of that? I never knew how far along in the process we were. Sometimes I'd miss the window entirely, so enjoying the vaginal portion of the sex that I would not get anal because he'd come, not realizing I wanted more.

---

Now is better, because he decides. But it's also worse, because I expend all the effort to make myself presentable and so very often he does nothing about it.

"Why you no like anal sex anymore?" I asked him recently, as we lay spent in each other's arms after some particularly thrilling sex. Yeah, I sometimes talk like that when I'm all used up.

"I suppose I enjoy myself just fine without it!" he said, sounding a little surprised. "Also, it's a lot of extra effort, you know."

Lube. He meant the lube. The lube that he applies when he is ready. Perhaps he also meant the effort of slowing down so as not to tear me open, I'm not sure.

Visions of the effort it takes me to prepare myself flitted through my head. The effort that so often is for naught. The cumulative hours that I have spent for no good reason.

Being submissive doesn't mean I want to waste my time, not even if it's more convenient for my dominant 1/30th of the time.

Sometimes, it thrills me a little, to know that I do this for his convenience and he can choose not to partake. More often though, it feels like there is no recognition that anything is happening on my side. It's just one of those things that goes on out of his view, like brushing my teeth or washing my hair, that he may or may not be aware of. Part of what I love about him is how accepting he is of me, with joint compound and paint on my clothes, sawdust and spiderwebs in my hair, or all dressed up - he seems to find me equally appealing regardless. I realize this is possibly just the flip side of that. Man who doesn't care doesn't care. Gasp. 

So I still have those fantasies. Those bent over, lubed fingers sliding into my backside while I beg them to stop, dirty talking fantasies. He plays his part well when he chooses to play it, because I have had quite a lot of anal experience with my husband and it only serves to feed the fantasies deeper.

Typical for me, I am greedy. 

I want more.

I always, always want more. Kisses, blowjobs, vaginal, anal, manual, flogging, spanking, biting, pinching, pulling, twisting, hugging, touching, stroking, squeezing. I just want more. There is never a moment when I am thinking "Nah, no more contact for me for a while."

(Amusing aside: as I wrote this post, my husband came up behind me and kissed me, three times quickly as I tilted my face back to his. I left my face tilted back when he pulled away, and he came back to kiss me again. "You always want more than three kisses. What's up with that?" he asked, grinning. 

I smiled hugely at him and pointed to the sentences I had already written above. He laughed.)

It's surprising the man doesn't give up in exhaustion, because the more amazing he is, the more of that I want from him. Perhaps he is thinking "Can't this woman ever be satisfied?"

Technically, no, I can't.

Because while I can be suffused with elation, my every sense sated in the moment, I'm insatiable.

I think that's a credit to the man for whom my hunger burns.

Control is a many-splendored thing

"Maybe you should do something violent to me," I suggested to my husband. I was tired, had been wanting to go back to bed ever since our little one woke us up far, far too early on a holiday morning. But we were in bed early and I didn't want my exhaustion to overtake me.

"Really?"

"Really." Nothing to keep a girl awake like having some consensual violence visited upon her person.

"I haven't done that in a while..."

"I know."

His hands that had previously been stroking me gently and running the silky tails of our blue flogger against my skin became weapons, targeting my breasts, my nipples. "MINE!" he barked as I whimpered, twisting beneath the blows and then arching up for more, "I will do whatever the hell I want to you!"

He rolled more toward me as I twisted away from him, my brain becoming more aroused with every crash of his hand into my sensitive breasts, my body trying to escape the onslaught of pain. His leg was on top of mine, his cock pressing into my hip. His hand wandered down, slapping into my thighs, pulling them apart forcibly when they tried to close against the pain, holding them open to hit me. I cried out especially loudly when he slapped my calf. "Oh, does that hurt, girl?"

"Yes sir," I whimpered between cries. I was crying out with every blow, and he was slowly humping my hip, making me feel his arousal.

"Good. You know what I think?" he asked, his hands never stopping their attack on my body, my calves, my thighs, my breasts, my forearms. "I think that you like attention of any kind. Pain's just another kind of attention for you, isn't it?"

"Yes sir," I panted.

"'Yes sir,'" he repeated, still slowly humping my hip. "Oooh, you feel my cock? That cock wants to fuck you. I want to fuck you. You know what that means? It means I will fuck you. I will do whatever the fuck I want." His hand came up between my spread legs and he slapped my pussy lightly, over and over until I was gasping. "You like that kind of attention too, don't you? Does this turn you on?" He stopped slapping me, his fingers gently probing the extra-sensitized flesh, sliding the tip of his finger easily into my wetness.

"Yeah, I see it does," he said, sliding his fingers against me, stroking my clit gently until I gasped with pleasure. He started slapping me again, unexpectedly. Oh, it hurt. I twisted to get away but his leg had mine trapped. Spread, helpless, owned. "Mine," he confirmed my thoughts as he continued slapping my sex. "Turn on your side so I can fuck you."

I was breathing heavily as I turned over, facing away from him. I lifted my leg over his hip, opening myself to him. He rocked his cock against my wetness, back and forth, teasing the head across my opening, bumping into my clit repeatedly. It felt lovely but I wanted him inside me. "Oh my God," I moaned.

"What is it, girl? You want something?"

"Yes sir."

"What is it you want?"

"Fuck me..." I breathed out, the words barely escaping my tightening throat.

He teased me a while longer, clearly enjoying my whimpered noises of frustration. The head of his cock lodged inside my opening, and I groaned, rotating my hips, pressing back onto him. He wasn't moving at all; I wasn't sure if he meant to tease me or meant for me to do something, so I did something. I wriggled, I squirmed, I backed onto his cock that felt fucking enormous, and groaned and sighed and whispered "oh, fuck," as I did it.

"Good girl, go on, take that cock," he said as I backed onto him, finally, finally managing to squeeze all of him into me.

"Can I help you?" he asked as I squeezed around him, relishing the fullness. He just stayed there, buried fully in me, letting me squeeze around him over and over. My answers were my continual moans of enjoyment.

"I see, you didn't want to be fucked, you just wanted a hard cock shoved up your pussy. There is a difference, you know," he murmured, his hand grabbing a handful of my hair and tugging, shoving himself extra hard into me.

I squirmed, but without his equal and opposite motions from the other side, the position we were in was no good for me to fuck him, just to wriggle insanely on his cock, like a specimen pinned for examination, legs spread, breasts exposed. His fingers stroked my clit. I was getting more and more aroused by my own inability to do anything.

"Are you trying to fuck me?" I just squirmed, my arousal growing more with his words, hearing the slight condescending tone he delicately applied to them. Oh, God, he's good at this. "Let me see if I can help you," he said, and moved his hips back, withdrawing slightly and then thrusting fully into me. I screamed with pleasure, with the release of the built-up tension. Oh, that was one fine-feeling thrust. He rocked his hips slowly, drawing the pleasure out for both of us. His hand gripped my throat, and then it was pressing on my face. I screamed. I love having my face covered, especially if it's by his hand. My breathing was slightly restricted, my pants becoming gasps, and I loved it, loved feeling his hand smashing out the very thing that people identify as "me," so that I was nothing but his. Oh, fuck, yes.

"Good fuck hole," he whispered, at the perfect moment to make me scream again, around the side of his hand. My racing thoughts of self-eradication collided with his words and a glorious brain-explosion occurred inside my head.

"You are my good fuck hole," he confirmed as my scream faded. His fingers slid inside me alongside his cock, stretching me.

"Oh, God, full," I whispered, as he thrust his cock into me, holding his fingers still, for an eternity of pleasure, riding the edge of pain.

"I like to fill up my slut," he agreed, moving faster. I could feel his fingers and his cock stretching me, rubbing ever so delicately against my anus the way my legs were spread for him. Oh, I needed to be fucked there.

"I want you in my ass," I ventured, softly.

"You want to feel this hard cock fucking your ass?" he asked, driving the point home as he thrust into my soaking pussy.

"Yessss," I hissed, pressing against him, taking him as deeply as I could.

"What a fucking slut," he spat out.

"Oh, oh, oh," I panted. "I'm your slut."

"You are my good slut," he said as he pulled his hand away, reaching behind us for the lube. He kept thrusting into me while he retrieved it, and when he pulled away I whimpered with the emptiness.

"It's okay, slut, I'm going to fuck you more." His words were interrupted by the squeeze of a nearly-empty tube of lube, a singularly unsexy sound. I forgot about it as he applied the lube to me, and then pressed the slippery, rounded head of his cock to my hole. He pressed; bounced off. I groaned, reaching back to hold his cock, to angle my hips and press against him just so.

"Take it, that's it, good girl," he whispered. I groaned loudly, rocking my hips against him in an echo of our earlier penetration. Oh it was even more intense, though. I rocked my hips, and slowly, slowly, my ass opened to him, taking him inside. I relaxed briefly once he was all the way in, and he started moving, gently at first. His hand moved to my open pussy. "So fucking wet," he said, sinking fingers into my pussy, his thumb working at my clit as he thrust into me.

I was stretched between his cock and his fingers, my legs wide open, my body at his mercy.

"So full of you," I whispered between groans and sighs of pleasure.

"You are my collection of fuck holes, aren't you?" he asked sharply, his fingers twisting.

I screamed.

His hand started slapping my pussy while he moved in my ass. I'm sure it made it a more exciting fuck, as I squirmed, wriggled, and screamed. Already so sensitive, so full of blood, and he was slapping me there. "Oh oh, I'm a good slut," I begged softly as he continued hitting me.

His fingers were back inside me when he came, pressing his cock deeply into me and spilling his seed into my bowels, moaning deeply with satisfaction. I do so love hearing him sound so pleased, but I didn't have very long to relish it.

He kept working on my clit, kept thrusting into my ass, his other hand grabbing a handful of my hair. I began to convulse upward, my head raising up, my knees lifting. He tightened his grip on my hair, forcing my head to stay down, forcing the intensity to stay in my body rather than to release through the convulsion. "You're not going anywhere, slut. You'll stay right here and take it."

I did. Every time my head tried to rise, he yanked it back down by my hair. I trembled with unreleased tension. I screamed. I came, a great, shuddery wave of orgasm crashing over me, brought on almost exclusively by the violent control he was exerting. Well, and the fingers. Of course the magic fingers.

My breast hurt all day today. Somehow, I'm okay with that.

---

I know there's a challenge on, and that I'm somewhat of a CWS slacker... and a blog slacker! I had to get this post written, which means very few other things got to happen online. I SIMPLY HAD TO WRITE THIS. Sorry, y'all.

---

And further. My husband says he is in the process of writing out a post about the filthy sex talking. Just for you guys.

Finally flogged

I posted my blue and white flogger a while ago, the one that I gifted to my husband. It was only this week that we finally got around to more than a perfunctory test flogging with it. In fact, someone else bought, received, and used one just like it before we ever got around to using ours. But it was worth the wait.

I loved it. The knots were perfect, thudding into my flesh, bouncing away. The ends were silky soft; he even used it as a tickler to make me moan with pleasure. He worked my ass and the backs of my thighs to a rosy glow that I could feel, and then he applied the spoon deliciously, making me squirm, writhe, generally having an awesome time while little gasps and moans emerged from my mouth.

He followed the spoon with the crop, tap-tap-tapping little bites all over, and it was just a fabulous spanking. I was panting when he finished, trailing the ends of the flogger over my sensitive skin. While what he said next was a little bit of a surprise, it shouldn't have been. "Turn over and suck my cock. You're not the only one who likes to feel good, you know."

I drew a ragged breath, pulling oxygen into my lungs, gathering the physical strength to turn over. After the flogging, the spoon, and the crop, I needed a moment to collect myself. I turned over slowly, moving down as I did, and his cock was in my face. I opened my mouth and pressed a hot, wet kiss to it, relishing the velvety feel of his foreskin against my face. Oh, right, I love sucking his cock. I moaned softly as I slid my mouth onto him, and my brain disengaged. Just sucking, listening to his words, rolling my tongue, working my throat.

In my excitement I kept tugging on his hips, drawing him as far into me as I could, and one of the tugs had him over my face, kneeling above me and fucking down into my mouth. "What a good fuckhole your face is for me," he said, tugging on my hair, his hands pressing down on my forehead, leaving me unable to do anything but take his hardness. I moaned at the helplessness of the position, at his words, my hands flopping uselessly off to the side, unsure what to do with themselves until they landed on his thighs. I squeezed his legs as he fucked my face.

"Is your pussy ready to be fucked?" he asked me roughly, the head of his cock moving slowly in the entrance of my throat, soft gagging noises coming from me due to the motion. I managed to turn one of the noises into a fervent positive.

"You think you can get on the ramp and be fucked?"

"Nnnnn," I said around the cock filling my mouth. Late, tired, ugh.

"Of course you can," he answered for me, ignoring my actual response. He pulled away and I chased his cock with my mouth. "Cockslut, it's really hard for you to let go of that cock, isn't it?" I groaned, pinned by his words, letting my head fall back again. He stood next to the bed, put the Liberator ramp on it, and I went after his shiny hard cock with my mouth again, moaning happily as this position put more of his cock in me with less stress. He pulled my hair, fucking my face, eliciting squeals of delight that vibrated all along the length of his hardness. "You think you're clever, don't you? This isn't your pussy."

He pulled me into him, forcing more and more of his cock into my willing throat. It burned as it opened my throat even more than it had previously. "Turn around and let me fuck your pussy now," he ordered, thrusting into my face a few final times.

I turned around slowly, my muscles resisting as I lifted my ass, presenting my pussy for his penetration. He sank inside me with a long, slow stroke and we groaned in unison. "Oh, fuck, yes," I gasped as he filled me, stretching me open.

Pleasure. Pure pleasure, enhanced by the slight amount of pain being stretched so far, pounded so hard, overtook me, and I was a constant moan, "Oh fuck," escaping from me with every other breath.

His hands found their way underneath my torso and he slapped my breasts, first one then the other. "Mine!" he said when I moaned with delighted pain, perhaps a touch of indignity coloring my tone.

"Yours," I agreed, whether loudly or softly I had no way of gauging. My arms gave out after an extended period, and I dropped to my elbows, my ass still lifted high for his cock to slide into my pussy.

"Oooh, I should fuck this ass," he mused, running his thumb across my hole that must have been exposed due to the position I was in. I groaned, both excited and a little concerned by the prospect. "Shouldn't I? You want that don't you? Of course you do," he answered his own question as I continued groaning, overwhelmed. "Get me the lube."

I moved to do so, but as I moved the ramp tried to fall over. "Nuh-uh," I murmured, trying to adjust myself so the ramp stayed on the bed. "What you mean, nuh-uh? Get the lube!" he repeated himself. I did, returning, still dealing with the problem and making muttery noises. "Too much complaining!"

"This is falling," I whispered.

"Fix it, then," he said, squeezing lube onto his fingers. I planted my feet on the floor, pressing my ass into his cock as I wriggled to move the ramp back into place. He humped against me, making me moan. His fingers were lubing my ass even as I climbed back up into the hands-and-knees position.

As his cock penetrated my ass, I fell forward, crying out. It wasn't even an overwhelming sensation, just my own fear that it would be. "Get up," he barked, and something else I couldn't hear for my breathing was heavy, catching in my chest and coming out in gasps, I was so terribly excited that I could only hear half the things he was saying.

Then he was buried in my ass, pulling my hair back toward him with one hand, his other hand pressing and squeezing my throat, making me gasp with arousal. Oh, wow. "Oh, fuck," I kept keening softly as we rocked together, my ass stretched taut around his cock that was so engorged I hadn't been able to believe it when I was sucking it.

He came loudly, nearly collapsing against my back, pulling me up into him. I breathed heavily, great gasps of air filling my lungs. Eventually we managed to shove the ramp away and curl up into each other, whispering words of appreciation for one another.

He is magnificent, even though I lack the time to write about it all the time, and I am so grateful.

His

We were snuggled into bed, my head happily resting on his shoulder, when he moved, sitting up a little, taking his arm from behind my head and using it to rest on as he gazed down at me.

"Don't look at me and stuff!" I begged, moving my hand to cover my face as he moved over me.

"Don't look at you and stuff?" he asked, incredulously. "Whose are you?"

"Yours," I said through my fingers.

"And can't I do whatever I want with you?"

"Yes," I whispered reluctantly.

"Then move your hand. I want to 'look at you and stuff.'"

My hand remained on my face until he slapped my inner thigh a few times. "Be a good girl," he admonished.

I moved my hand, but my face was scrunched up in resistance, and I couldn't stop. I tried to relax the muscles of my face, but knowing he was now looking at me even more than he would have been made it impossible. Why, oh why did I draw attention to myself?

"Look at me, fuck toy," he demanded, after what felt like an hour but was probably merely seconds. I trembled, moaning. "Maybe you didn't hear me," he said softly. "Look at me."


I opened my eyes and he was there, looking at me.

I giggled. Yep. I giggled.

I closed my eyes again, trying to stifle the laughter.

"Is there something on my face?" he asked, amused.

"No," I said, opening my eyes again. I giggled again, turning away and covering my face with both my hands this time.

"What's funny?" he insisted. "Is your own shyness funny?"

"Yes," I agreed. As good an answer as any.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked. "My girl is supposed to do what she's told, isn't she? And when she doesn't, I have to punish her?" he whispered the words in my ear.

I shivered. "I did what you asked."

"And who told you you could stop?"

I sighed, opening my eyes. My giggles evaporated as I turned back toward him again.

"Good girl." He kissed me, climbing on top of me and pressing his cock against my upper thigh, letting me feel how hard he already was. We kissed for a while, my eyes closing as his lips and mine danced, opening again because he wanted them that way after each kiss.

"Is it getting easier for you?" he asked, gazing at me lovingly.

"No," I said, meeting his eyes.

"Well, you're doing better," he praised me as he kissed me again. "Tell you what," he said, rising up higher, "instead of looking into my eyes, you can look at my cock." I scooted down between his knees as he raised up over me.

He rubbed his cock all over my face, moving up and brushing his balls against my lips until I sucked gently on them. I looked up and saw him looking at me as I did so, making me moan as my gaze crossed his.

He moved again, rubbing his cock all over my face again, teasing me, letting me lick it as he moved. "Take it," he finally urged as he pressed it between my lips.

"Mmm, you like this, don't you?" he asked as I moaned around the hardness filling my mouth. His hands pressed down on the sides of my head, pinning it to the bed as he fucked into me. My hands clutched at his thighs, over and over as his cock filled what it could of my throat and then withdrew. "I should write it on your forehead," he said, looking down at me as I sucked, "'This is my face to fuck. You can't have her.'" I trembled and moaned quietly as his words knocked the wind out of me, still sucking as that image branded itself into my mind, the words appearing on my own internalized image of my face as he spoke them. Objectifying. Humiliating. And, for me, white hot as all fuck.

"Your face isn't the only part of you that likes to be fucked, though, is it?" He was moving down, his eyes once again meeting mine straight on, his cock prodding against my pussy until he found what he was seeking: the source of the arousal seeping from me. I threw my head back as he slowly pushed into me, his eyes looking into mine as my mouth opened and I moaned. He felt incredible, huge, and hard, and I am sure my amazement was reflected in my eyes.

"My fuck slave," he said as he ground against me, making me feel his full length buried in my body. "So wet, my beautiful girl. What a slut you are. You like having your face fucked, don't you?"

"Yes sir," I whispered.

His hands fondled my breasts. "You like having my cock rubbed all over your face, the face people look at when they look at you. If only they could see what you liked to do with your face, slut." I moaned beneath him, tossing my head and arching into him as his words buried themselves in me like steamy bullets. "You like taking my come and rubbing it all over your breasts, don't you? And then going out with my come all over your tits." I shuddered, nodding as he kissed me again. "Such a slut. MY slut, aren't you?" he asked as he pulled his mouth away.

"Yes sir," I whispered, my body undulating with him. His hands pinned my wrists for a time, his fingers encircling them and squeezing as he moved. "You're so nice to fuck me so often," I said, feeling genuinely grateful as his cock filled me over and over.

"It's what you're for, bitch," he said, kissing me hard. I could only moan in agreement with him as his lips claimed my mouth and tongue, his cock moving slowly inside me now, making me crazy with the slow strokes against my sensitive membranes. I could feel every tiny movement and it felt incredible.

"So good," I whispered hoarsely when he let me speak again.

"So fucking good," he agreed.

"I suppose I could fuck you from behind," he murmured, ages later, heat that had built between us wiping my ability to recall those long, steamy minutes. My legs ached from holding them up and wide for so long.  "But first, I think I'll let you taste how wet you make me," he said, sliding his cock out of me, and moving up to sit astride my chest again. His cock, slick with my juices, slid between my lips and I groaned as I sucked the taste of me off him.

"Such a nice set of fuck holes I have here for myself," he rasped as I sucked him. I pulled my mouth away to moan deeply at that, and he responded quickly. "Keep sucking," he whispered.

My pussy clenched. It wanted his cock back, badly. I felt myself lubricate even more, uselessly, as I sucked, rolling my tongue over his hard, velvety shaft, clutching his hips and lifting my head to take more of his cock, cutting off my air and willingly gagging myself.

"Okay," he said at length pulling his cock away from me, cupping my breasts around his length and fucking them. I arched my back and groaned loudly, over and over, feeling his hardness press into my breasts. Generally breast fucking is mostly for him, but this felt really amazing to me. I stayed in that position, moaning as he stroked himself with my flesh. "Turn over now, fuck slave, so I can fuck you from behind." He moved off me and I turned over. "Yeah, give me that pussy," he said, his fingers plunging into my wetness with a speed that was a little painful. His fingers were soon replaced by his cock and I sighed with the fullness.

"Too bad I can't look into your eyes like this," he said. I was sightlessly staring straight ahead of me, my mouth open in an eternal moan as we rocked. His hand locked in my hair, his other hand on my hip, and he moved me on his cock like the toy he's named me to be. "I suppose I could always fuck you sideways later," he finished his thought.

The words glanced off my consciousness. Could I even look at him now if I had to? Just the thought was too much for me. "Oh, God," I transmuted my constant moan into words to suit my emotions.

He picked up my leg and I draped it backwards over his hip, letting his hand wander freely between my legs. When his hand left, I put mine there, feeling him as his cock thrust slowly into my body. "You like feeling me fuck you, toy?" he asked.

"Yes sir," I whispered.

"You like having your fuck hole stuffed full, don't you? I bet you'd like it if I let you sleep like this, with my cock shoved inside you."

"Mmhmm," I moaned, words lost to me.

"But I'd have to stop fucking you for that, and I don't think you'd like that, would you?"

His hand moved and he pinched my nipple, slow but hard. The pain built inside me until I complained. "It hurts," I begged. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts."

"What hurts? This?" he asked, twisting my nipple a little. I squealed in response. "That's okay," he said, soothingly, "I can fuck you while you hurt."

Oh, God. He really just said that. I just moaned. Over and over, as he fucked me. I couldn't even respond to him with words anymore. When I felt his orgasm start to overtake him, I pulled him into me, hard, with my hand on his hip and my foot on his ass. I love feeling him shudder to completion in my body; love knowing that we did that together, that he feels incredible and it's partially because of me. I love knowing that he can do that just because he wants to.

His hand wandered between my legs as he recovered, fingers pressing into my g-spot and making me groan. "You like being fucked everywhere, don't you, fuck toy?" he asked softly as his thumb stroked my clit. "You're for me to fuck, aren't you? I can fuck your face. I can fuck your pussy. I can fuck your tits. And I can fuck your ass," he said, his fingertip playing across the hole he referred to. I jumped, making a noise of agreement. "Would your ass like to be more full?" he asked, pressing his finger against me there.

"Yes sir," I whispered.

He started to pull his hand away from between my legs and I whimpered, clutching at his shoulder. "It's okay, greedy slutty thing," he assured me, "I'm not going anywhere."

He got the lube from the drawer and came back. "What's the point of having a fuck slave if you don't use all her fuck holes?" he whispered as his finger slid, aided by lots of lubrication, into my ass. I can't exactly describe what was going on there - but there was lots of penetration, and his thumb on my clit, and I was out of my mind. "Ohh, that's where that finger goes," he said, and I was suddenly fuller. He fucked me with his whole hand, and "out of my mind" doesn't quite begin to describe it.

"My sweet, sweet collection of fuck holes," he murmured as his hand plundered my nether regions. "Come for me, fuck toy," he said as I began to tremble. "Yeah, that's a good toy, come for me, girl," he urged as I screamed, kicking. He didn't stop. "Come for me, come for me," he urged, and my body responded, shaking, screaming, kicking, my hand slapping his back a little. "Oh my God," I squealed as he let me float down, wrapped in a blanket of indescribably delicious pleasure.

He gathered me into his arms and we chatted, after he turned off the light. He feels like heaven. There's no place I'd rather be than snuggled against my love's chest. We talked about how amazing sex is, how lucky we are. "I'm so yours," I told him as we kissed.

"I like it when I tell you to come and you do," he said. "I like to feel like I'm in control."

"You are in control, my love," I whispered to him.

"Oh, yeah."

Eventually my shoulder started to hurt and I had to turn over, to face away from him. My leg was backward over his, knee bent, which meant my legs were open to him. His hand briefly brushed my pussy, and then his fingers were gently toying with my nipples. "Aren't we meant to be sleeping, my love?" I moaned. The gentle strokes of his fingers on my soft nipples were sending electric jolts through my body.

His cock was hard again. I felt it throbbing against my back. His fingers were in my pussy then. "Are we? Give me this pussy," he rasped, and I hurried to obey. His cock pushed inside me and it felt bigger than ever - my tissues having swollen after the previous use. I groaned as he fucked me, hard, fast, reveling in his use of my body. This was about him and I loved that it was. He does so much for me and this is one thing that it absolutely thrills me to do for him. It hurt a little, but mostly it felt incredible.

Afterward, as we were drifting off, I asked him what caused that. He didn't know. "Sometimes, you know, I might start to take it for granted, that I can fuck you any time I want."

I shivered hard at that, and stifled a moan. A moment of silence passed while he processed my reaction.

"Did that excite you, to hear me say... that?"

"Yes," I nodded, even though it was terribly unlikely he could see me in the dark.

"I see," he said, squeezing me to him. "Mine."

That I am.

In a different world

Monday was interesting. I couldn't stop being horny, all day. I longed to just get my husband home and take him to bed, to feel him touching me, filling up all the empty spaces within me. I told him as much too.

When we got him home from work we spent some time snuggling and making out like teenagers, kissing, kissing, endlessly kissing. It was glorious.

I went to take a bath after dinner, and afterward the intensity of my need was dampened quite a bit. That's not to say I wasn't still up for sex, but I wasn't raring to go.

He was writing some code after we put the little one to bed, and I went into our room and started making practice monkey fists for a new flogger. He followed me soon after, sat on the bed and talked to me, eventually convincing me to to stop making monkey fists and "have monkey sex."

I cleared away the ropes from the bed and lay down, facing away from him.

"Take off your clothes," he said.

A night to remember: The sex

The first part of this is here.

Going to bed early is definitely awesome. If my husband was trying to discourage me, giving me a long, long spanking followed by what followed certainly wasn't the way to go. Now I just want to go to bed early even more often.

"I know what you need," he said, pulling his lips away from mine and looking into my eyes for a moment. I'm sure they were clouded by desire, and I know they were very unfocused because I couldn't manage to bring him into focus in my vision, which is normally blurry at best, but this was even worse. My nipples burned and tingled from the beating they'd just received.

"Put this in you. Just like you did earlier," he ordered, handing me the plug and the lube. I whimpered as I took it from him, turning away, shaking all over. I wasn't entirely sure I could pull this off. My hands shook as I squeezed out some lube onto my finger, and reached back to gently lube my ass, sliding my finger inside, spreading the lube evenly out. I moaned because I was unbelievably sensitive and it was incredibly intimate, doing this with him there. "Yeah, good girl" I heard him say. It was only then I realized he was actually watching me, and I inhaled deeply and let go a long shuddery breath.

I had left the plug and the lube by my head, and I retrieved both now, lubing up the plug generously, making sure it was good and slippery. It's huge for me, and the last part of it is very close to painful to get in, so I wanted to make it as easy as possible. I reached back and pressed the tip of it against my tiny hole, feeling it open me up. I groaned.

"Good girl," he said behind me, making me shudder at the knowledge he was watching this too. I held the base of the plug and slowly rocked my hips, moaning once it got about halfway in. So big. "That's it, girl, shove it in there," he urged me. I cried out at being stretched so much, but I didn't complain, just kept crying out and rocking my hips. "There it goes, all the way, take it, my girl," he kept talking, making my hips move faster, arousing me and humiliating me all in one fell swoop. I screamed a little as the largest part slipped into my body, and then I lay there, panting and shuddering, squeezing my muscles around the invasion. He hadn't touched me since he'd handed me the plug and I was aroused beyond belief. I groaned, my hips still rocking, feeling stuffed. His hand gently stroked my back and at his touch something inside me melted, softening me. Then his hand was pushing against the base of the plug, making me scream again.

"How's your ass feel now?" he asked.

"Oh my God," I answered as that was all I could summon, the entire experience having wiped my vocabulary very nearly clean. I rocked against the pressure he was applying to the plug, shuddering.

"Full?" he asked, prompting me.

"Yessss," I moaned, the desire coiling in the pit of my belly making me employ all my restraint not to turn, wrap myself around him, and fuck his brains out.

"And your pussy?" he asked, his fingers entering me there easily as I was a slippery mess of arousal. "Oh, yes, this pussy wants to be fucked, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes," I whispered. Oh, fuck, yes.

"Turn around so I can fuck your face first, before I fuck your pussy," he said, using the words deliberately for their impact on me.

Well there was something I could do. I moved slowly due to the plug stuffing me full, and took his cock in my mouth, laying on my side next to him. Oh, he was hard, smooth and velvety under my lips and I moaned as I sucked him in, his heat overwhelming my senses. He put his leg over my shoulder and grabbed a handful of my hair, tugging on it as I sucked that cock as deeply in as I could. He grabbed my head and just moved it on his cock, faster and faster as I screamed with the excitement that particular activity generates in me, and when he stopped I kept moving at the pace he'd established, faster, faster, pressing his cock into the back of my throat on each stroke. He kept tugging on my hair. "What a good cocksucker, that's what you are, isn't it, a cocksucking slut? My cocksucking slut." I moaned my response. "I thought so," he rasped as I sucked him. "Good, good, fuck toy."

---

"What about your pussy?" he asked after many, many minutes elapsed in a similar fashion. "Does it still want to be fucked?"

"Uh-huh," I managed, without letting his cock slip from my mouth.

"You should probably stop and turn over so it can be, then," he said, "but I know how your mouth is. It just gets ahold of that cock and will not let it go, isn't that right?"

I kept sucking as my response. Deeper, deeper, holding him in the entrance to my throat until I had to pull away to take great gasping lungfuls of air. He stroked my hair gently as I took him back in my mouth. "I know," he said, "how about I fuck your pussy for a while, and then give you a nice juicy cock to suck? You'd like that wouldn't you?"

I moaned loudly. "Yeah, I thought you would. You like sucking those juices off my cock, don't you? Turn over, then, and give me my pussy."

I turned over, each breath hitching in my throat and coming out all shuddery, the plug still stuffing my ass. Despite the presence of the plug, his cock still managed to slide inside me with almost no resistance, my extreme arousal creating a nearly frictionless surface. I squeezed my muscles around him, making a lot of noise at being so stuffed. "So full," I whispered as he began thrusting into me.

My brain was on fire. He grabbed my head, holding it in both his hands, pressing gently on my throat as he slowly fucked me, his cock forcing its way into me, the plug and his cock battling for space in my body. I gasped and grunted and moved with him as best I could when he wasn't moving me himself. He left one hand tangled in my hair and let the other one move to my nipples, squeezing, pinching, pulling at them as he moved inside me, and then his finger was in my mouth. "Yeah, you like having all your fuckholes stuffed, don't you?" he asked, making me whimper my response around his finger as I sucked.

---

A long time passed like that, his voice, my noises of delight, his hands wandering over my body as we rocked together. Eventually he suggested he stop and give me his cock again, as promised previously. I just moaned and kept rocking with him.

"Oh, you do not like stopping what you're doing, do you, slut?" he asked.

"No, no," I panted.

"I know the feeling," he said, grabbing my shoulders and pumping into me even harder, pulling me back onto him. Long, delicious minutes passed like that. I put my hand on the wall over our head to give me more leverage to push back against him, enveloping his cock as much as possible on each thrust.

"Come on, slave, it's time for you to give me that face to fuck." He pulled his cock away from me and I whimpered, but started turning over as he'd requested. 

I moaned as I turned over, and he was rising up on his knees. "Oh my God," I shrilled, realizing what he was going to do, not knowing if I could take it, process it, or not.

I lay flat on my back and he swung his leg over my face, straddling me, facing my feet. I moaned as I smelled my sex on his cock and I took it in my mouth with a loud noise of pleasure, and then his hands were sliding in the slippery mess that was my pussy, his fingers entering me, playing with my clit, as he humped my face, his cock sliding down almost into my throat and back out again. His cock entered me as his fingers did, and he let his fingers skate all around and over my clit. I was a mass of nerve endings and moans that were cut off by his cock entering my throat, near-screams of pleasure as he overloaded my sensory inputs... and he was talking. "Good fuckholes," he was saying, and more, and more, but my overloaded brain cannot remember everything that he said. I just remember screaming, writhing, my screams constantly turning into cut-off noises as his cock entered my throat, and "I like to use you," he said.

I sucked him for all I was worth, and even though his exploration of my nether regions led to a lot of pauses to merely moan around his cock in ecstasy, eventually he came down my throat, his turn for loud moans of pleasure to stop what he was doing.

I kept sucking for a while afterwards, and he kept his fingers stroking me, kept talking to me. "I will fuck you in all three of your fuckholes at the same time if I want to, because that's what you're for. Isn't that right?"

He forced me to acknowledge this as he slipped his fingers inside me, pressing against the plug, other fingers pressing against my clit, pushing it around. I groaned at the words, at being compelled to respond to them. "Yes sir," I whispered, shuddering.

He climbed off of me and lay next to me on his side, his hand delving back into my wetness, filling me up with his fingers, making me squirm and make noises of delicious pleasure.

I was taking a long while as he stroked me, and my arm wrapped around him seemed to be concerning him. "Is your arm going to sleep?" he asked me.

"No. Is yours?" I managed to sound merely like a breathless person instead of a verge-of-orgasm fucktoy.

"No."

"I should probably turn over," I panted, still humping his hand. It's easier for him to make me come if I'm on my hands and knees, and I was beginning to feel like I never would and we would both be frustrated. Also easier for me to get away from him once I am in that state, which is why the next thing shouldn't have surprised me.

"You probably should," he said, tossing his leg over mine, pressing his knee up against his hand as it moved on my sex, and speeding up his strokes of my clit. He squeezed me close as I squirmed. "I'd like to see you try," he growled, and that was all it took. His determination to keep me close and under his control coupled with the slight change in his movements sent me spinning, screaming, over the edge. "Oh, there you go, baby, come for me," he said, satisfaction dripping from his words.

I did. I clutched him even closer to me and I writhed, my hips doing everything they could do get the fuck away from the stimulation that he just. kept. giving. And then I was screaming again, and again, and again, and he was really enjoying himself as he forced me to come over and over and over. I was sweaty, exhausted, but I kept clinging to him and coming, coming, endlessly coming on his fingers. I did not count, I lost the ability to count, but there were dozens of orgasms crashing over me.

"You just keep coming and coming and coming," he whispered into my ear as his fingers did their dance.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't help it," I screamed, tossing my head.

"You should probably work on getting better control over yourself," he said as he kept his fingers moving.

"You control me," I panted between my screams.

"Oh, that's right, I do, don't I? Look at you, slut, you just came twice in the same sentence."

His fingers slowed, gentler, soothing, and I thought he was going to stop. Apparently he was just taking a break, because he increased his speed after a few moments. I shook my head as I approached another orgasm. "No, no," I begged.

"You don't get to say no, baby," he whispered, kissing me roughly, sucking my tongue, his fingers coaxing the orgasm out of my exhausted body as I screamed and whimpered into his mouth.

Something about all of this - my screams in the throes of orgasm, the sweat slicking my skin, or perhaps my helpless tossing - got him turned on again, and I felt his cock, hard again against my hip as I struggled to deal with the endless onslaught of pleasure.

I felt it, and I came again, just knowing that this was turning him providing the extra stimulation to send me into two more paroxysms of joy.

"You should probably stop coming so I can fuck you again," he said.

"Oh, fuck, yes," I panted, my hips still squirming as he kept touching me.

I managed to turn over and his cock pressed into me from behind, feeling even bigger than before, probably due to all the orgasms he'd given me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and held my head up, his other hand gripping my shoulder and moving me with him. "What a good fuck toy you are," he said as he moved my body on his cock.

This second time was faster than the first, though still respectably long. When his breath started to quicken I pressed my hand against the wall to push harder against him and screamed. "Oh, fuck, yes, fuck, yes, come in me, yes, YES, YES," because it was incredibly exciting to have brought him there twice in such a short time. I love his orgasms as much as he seems to love mine.

Afterward, as we lay there panting, he reached up and grabbed my hand off the wall where I had planted it, holding my forearm tightly as we spooned and he squeezed me against him.

"Oh, fuck," I kept saying, and then, much later, "That was the best yet. But I say that a lot."

He laughed. "I suppose I learn from experience."

Hell yeah, he does.

Yay for going to bed early.

Slow tease

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