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.
Showing posts with label bliss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bliss. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
The Cure
I am highly, highly oversexed. I don't like that word because it makes it sound like I have too much sex, when in fact what it means is there is no such thing for me. I think about sex constantly. I may stop thinking about it for a minute or two at a time, but thinking about sex is my general state of being.
It's only natural that when the time allowed me, I'd start writing it too.
Being monogamously married to and owned by a man I adore is wonderful, but it sometimes carries a woeful amount of misunderstandings with it.
I get sad when we are not having some kind of sex at least every day. I'd prefer multiple times. We compromise and I think we're both pretty happy with where things are. Sometimes, though, life gets in the way for a day or two (or God forbid three or four) and it just doesn't happen. Sadness overtakes me then. I'm still thinking about sex all the time, but not having any, and I feel pathetic and undesirable. Things I could normally get through give me difficulty. Lethargy sets in, I feel depressed, I wonder what the point is to anything. Even through the fog of sadness I still read and think about sex, which just fuels the depression but isn't something I can shut off.
So he senses my sadness, or in some cases, he outright sees it. I cry easily and am overwhelmed by parts of life I should have under control. I lie awake well into the early morning, unable to fall asleep. He sees these things and he holds me, comforts me. Herein lies the miscommunication. He sees his girl sad and laden with woe and, not being turned on by sadness, he holds her through yet another sexless night. I feel even more worthless because the one thing I want is being retarded by my very reaction to not getting it. I despair, sunk deep in the self-digging hole.
I tell him this, trying to shine a tiny light of knowledge up at him from the bottom of my pit. I tell him that the words he once spoke to me years ago echo in my head, making me keep my silence. "It's hard to want a girl who's sad all the time."
By some miracle, he gets it. Not immediately, but quickly, after I choke back a sob to tell him that that's a self-digging hole. I start to say something else, but his palm is pressing on my face, pressing against my nose, covering my mouth. I moan. His hand moves, pressing against the other side of my nose, squeezing my face. "You were going to say, girl?" he asks, and his voice has changed. The solicitousness is gone, and in its place is a rough, dark rasp. His legs are none too gentle with mine as he yanks them apart.
His feet dig into my calf as he pulls my legs open, and it hurts. "Ouch!" I say, but my thoughts are already captured in the present moment as he climbs between my legs. There is no room for sadness in the suddenly electric atmosphere he has created. If he's acting, he's very good at it.
"You were going to say, girl?" he asks again, his hand pressing all over my face, tangling in my hair, tugging it until I gasp with the sheer joy of it.
"N-nothing," I gasp.
He's moved across me now, on my other side. So much of what happens is a glorious, glorious blur. He's spanking me, his hand delivering sharp stinging blows to my backside. He buries the whole of the thenar and a good chunk of the thumb of his free hand in my mouth, and I am biting down into it, screaming into his hand while he tortures my nipples.
"Do you just have nothing to say when your body is being slowly reduced," he pauses to hurt me more, to make me scream louder into the amazingly effective gag that is his hand, "mmmm... being reduced to fuck meat?"
I scream. The hand not in my mouth is touching my pussy, my clit. "Fuck meat," he said, and I scream and scream and scream. It's primal, what those words are doing to me, and I can't properly record anything before or after the ground zero of those words. That moment is shining and brilliant and all the other bits around it, amazing though they are, fade.
He makes me come. "Oh, it's been far too long since you've come for me," he says. "You're going to do that now, aren't you, fuck toy? You're going to come for your master now." My head is slowly arching back away from him as he talks, as his fingers work their magic on my sex. It feels to me like the whole thing happens in slow motion, as my body tenses and I am crying out, all the tension releasing as I come and come and come. My legs shake against him. "Oh look at you, no self-control at all," he says, and he is right. He controls me. He makes me come again, tugging my head backwards by the hair until my groans of delight deepen into guttural grunts. I am bent very far back when he finally lets go.
He won't fuck me with his cock. He suggests it, he teases, he makes fun of me, makes me beg. "Look at you. Why would I give you my cock now? In the state you're in you'd never give it back. Would you?"
I moan my negative response, tossing my head as his fingers fuck me.
"See. I'd never get my cock back. What does that make you?"
I don't answer immediately because I am screaming. He teases me to orgasm with his words. "A slut," I answer, my voice cracking because I have reservations about calling myself that.
"My slut," he clarifies, and he is kissing me.
Finally I have begged prettily enough, and he is atop me sliding his cock inside. I groan as he fills me. He feels amazing. I fuck him from beneath, just really driven wild by everything that has happened so far.
I'm falling. I'm falling, I'm flying, into an abyss and he's holding me there under him by my hair. That must be why he's pulling it so hard. His kisses are hot and urgent and he is forcing me to stay there when I would float away. I hear my own screams as if from a distance and I want to be in this moment - this moment - forever. My head is spinning, my sense of balance is all out of whack, and he just keeps driving his cock into me, drawing the screams from me with every thrust and every tug of my hair.
"I think it's your turn," he says. "I think you should get on top of me and fuck me."
"Anything you want," I gasp out breathlessly, unable to really catch up to the situation. A whole lot of delicious things have whizzed by me that I couldn't fully assimilate. Mostly fantastically dirty things he has said that made me scream in the moment but are now lost forever because my brain is overloaded. I'll take it though.
"That's right," he says, "anything I want." He rolls off me onto his back, waiting.
I dive after his cock with my mouth. It tastes sweet and salty and I moan as I lick it all over.
"Oooh, I didn't say you could suck the cock," he admonishes me. "But I suppose you're just a cocksucker who couldn't resist, huh?" I give his cock a long swirling suck for answer as I pull my mouth away, and then I am lifting my leg over him.
"Oh yes, give me that pussy," he says as I lower myself onto him, as his cock presses up into me. He grabs my hips and I scream. His hardness has never felt like this before. "I think you know what to do," he growls as I begin to slowly rotate my hips, gasping as I feel all the new sensations that changing positions like this causes.
It really doesn't take long before it starts to feel amazing. His hands are on my hips and when I start to scream he keeps moving me the way I was moving before. I am screaming, he is moaning deeply, and we are coming at the same time.
I lay on his chest for long, long minutes afterward, kissing his neck and shoulders, rotating my hips against him, listening to his soft sounds of pleasure as we both catch our breath.
After I roll off into his arms, I kiss him again, softly and with great respect and tenderness. "Thank you for rescuing me, sweet master," I whisper against his lips.
He's already half asleep, but he squeezes me tightly against him. "Love my girl," he answers.
It's only natural that when the time allowed me, I'd start writing it too.
Being monogamously married to and owned by a man I adore is wonderful, but it sometimes carries a woeful amount of misunderstandings with it.
I get sad when we are not having some kind of sex at least every day. I'd prefer multiple times. We compromise and I think we're both pretty happy with where things are. Sometimes, though, life gets in the way for a day or two (or God forbid three or four) and it just doesn't happen. Sadness overtakes me then. I'm still thinking about sex all the time, but not having any, and I feel pathetic and undesirable. Things I could normally get through give me difficulty. Lethargy sets in, I feel depressed, I wonder what the point is to anything. Even through the fog of sadness I still read and think about sex, which just fuels the depression but isn't something I can shut off.
So he senses my sadness, or in some cases, he outright sees it. I cry easily and am overwhelmed by parts of life I should have under control. I lie awake well into the early morning, unable to fall asleep. He sees these things and he holds me, comforts me. Herein lies the miscommunication. He sees his girl sad and laden with woe and, not being turned on by sadness, he holds her through yet another sexless night. I feel even more worthless because the one thing I want is being retarded by my very reaction to not getting it. I despair, sunk deep in the self-digging hole.
I tell him this, trying to shine a tiny light of knowledge up at him from the bottom of my pit. I tell him that the words he once spoke to me years ago echo in my head, making me keep my silence. "It's hard to want a girl who's sad all the time."
By some miracle, he gets it. Not immediately, but quickly, after I choke back a sob to tell him that that's a self-digging hole. I start to say something else, but his palm is pressing on my face, pressing against my nose, covering my mouth. I moan. His hand moves, pressing against the other side of my nose, squeezing my face. "You were going to say, girl?" he asks, and his voice has changed. The solicitousness is gone, and in its place is a rough, dark rasp. His legs are none too gentle with mine as he yanks them apart.
His feet dig into my calf as he pulls my legs open, and it hurts. "Ouch!" I say, but my thoughts are already captured in the present moment as he climbs between my legs. There is no room for sadness in the suddenly electric atmosphere he has created. If he's acting, he's very good at it.
"You were going to say, girl?" he asks again, his hand pressing all over my face, tangling in my hair, tugging it until I gasp with the sheer joy of it.
"N-nothing," I gasp.
He's moved across me now, on my other side. So much of what happens is a glorious, glorious blur. He's spanking me, his hand delivering sharp stinging blows to my backside. He buries the whole of the thenar and a good chunk of the thumb of his free hand in my mouth, and I am biting down into it, screaming into his hand while he tortures my nipples.
"Do you just have nothing to say when your body is being slowly reduced," he pauses to hurt me more, to make me scream louder into the amazingly effective gag that is his hand, "mmmm... being reduced to fuck meat?"
I scream. The hand not in my mouth is touching my pussy, my clit. "Fuck meat," he said, and I scream and scream and scream. It's primal, what those words are doing to me, and I can't properly record anything before or after the ground zero of those words. That moment is shining and brilliant and all the other bits around it, amazing though they are, fade.
He makes me come. "Oh, it's been far too long since you've come for me," he says. "You're going to do that now, aren't you, fuck toy? You're going to come for your master now." My head is slowly arching back away from him as he talks, as his fingers work their magic on my sex. It feels to me like the whole thing happens in slow motion, as my body tenses and I am crying out, all the tension releasing as I come and come and come. My legs shake against him. "Oh look at you, no self-control at all," he says, and he is right. He controls me. He makes me come again, tugging my head backwards by the hair until my groans of delight deepen into guttural grunts. I am bent very far back when he finally lets go.
He won't fuck me with his cock. He suggests it, he teases, he makes fun of me, makes me beg. "Look at you. Why would I give you my cock now? In the state you're in you'd never give it back. Would you?"
I moan my negative response, tossing my head as his fingers fuck me.
"See. I'd never get my cock back. What does that make you?"
I don't answer immediately because I am screaming. He teases me to orgasm with his words. "A slut," I answer, my voice cracking because I have reservations about calling myself that.
"My slut," he clarifies, and he is kissing me.
Finally I have begged prettily enough, and he is atop me sliding his cock inside. I groan as he fills me. He feels amazing. I fuck him from beneath, just really driven wild by everything that has happened so far.
I'm falling. I'm falling, I'm flying, into an abyss and he's holding me there under him by my hair. That must be why he's pulling it so hard. His kisses are hot and urgent and he is forcing me to stay there when I would float away. I hear my own screams as if from a distance and I want to be in this moment - this moment - forever. My head is spinning, my sense of balance is all out of whack, and he just keeps driving his cock into me, drawing the screams from me with every thrust and every tug of my hair.
"I think it's your turn," he says. "I think you should get on top of me and fuck me."
"Anything you want," I gasp out breathlessly, unable to really catch up to the situation. A whole lot of delicious things have whizzed by me that I couldn't fully assimilate. Mostly fantastically dirty things he has said that made me scream in the moment but are now lost forever because my brain is overloaded. I'll take it though.
"That's right," he says, "anything I want." He rolls off me onto his back, waiting.
I dive after his cock with my mouth. It tastes sweet and salty and I moan as I lick it all over.
"Oooh, I didn't say you could suck the cock," he admonishes me. "But I suppose you're just a cocksucker who couldn't resist, huh?" I give his cock a long swirling suck for answer as I pull my mouth away, and then I am lifting my leg over him.
"Oh yes, give me that pussy," he says as I lower myself onto him, as his cock presses up into me. He grabs my hips and I scream. His hardness has never felt like this before. "I think you know what to do," he growls as I begin to slowly rotate my hips, gasping as I feel all the new sensations that changing positions like this causes.
It really doesn't take long before it starts to feel amazing. His hands are on my hips and when I start to scream he keeps moving me the way I was moving before. I am screaming, he is moaning deeply, and we are coming at the same time.
I lay on his chest for long, long minutes afterward, kissing his neck and shoulders, rotating my hips against him, listening to his soft sounds of pleasure as we both catch our breath.
After I roll off into his arms, I kiss him again, softly and with great respect and tenderness. "Thank you for rescuing me, sweet master," I whisper against his lips.
He's already half asleep, but he squeezes me tightly against him. "Love my girl," he answers.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Alone together
What are two kinky grown people to do when they're left alone for an hour or so in her mom's living room?
What else?
"What you wanna do now?" I asked my husband as the car left the driveway. We were sitting on the sofa. He waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively and I giggled.
His arm was around me and I was kissing his throat, still giggling a little. He tightened his grip and just like that, I was there, his. He shoved my shirt up, shoved my bra out of the way, and his lips were fastened to my nipple - sucking, biting, hurting. I moaned, sliding into the corner of the sofa against the arm, half reclining.
He had my jeans off, and then the layer of long underwear, followed by my panties. "Gonna fuck you, girl," he growled, his hand on my back forcing me to arch my breasts more into his face. His other hand started slapping the breast that he wasn't torturing with his mouth. He was sucking and biting on one side and spanking on the other. I was twisting, but he held me fast.
"Are you for me to fuck?" he asked.
"Yes sir," I moaned.
He shoved my legs apart - one along the sofa's cushions, the other stretched out on the floor, and started spanking my inner thighs, forcing little cries from me with each slap. The Christmas tree twinkled at me.
"Look at you, all naked," he murmured, spanking my spread pussy, making me scream. "Well, mostly." My shirt and bra, pushed up over my breasts, accentuated my nudity rather than helping me feel more covered. I moaned. I felt his hips lift, heard the sofa's springs creak, as he divested himself of his own jeans. His hard cock poked through the slit in his boxers and pressed against my bare leg, the intense heat of it contrasting with the chill of the room that was already trying to settle on my skin.
He was enjoying slapping my sensitive parts far too much. Thigh, pussy, other thigh. I arched into him, and his fingers were gentle, touching my folds but not delving very deep. I groaned.
"Want me, girl?" he asked roughly.
Holy fuck. Is it not obvious?
"Yes sir," I whispered, hoarse from the crying out.
"Hmm... what to do with you," he pondered, pulling away a little. In the corner of the couch with my legs splayed open in either direction is certainly not a position that I recall us trying before. I groaned with disappointment when he was not touching me, but then there he was, the head of his cock nudging at my opening. I have no idea what he had to do to get into that position, to get his cock lined up with me just right. It can't have been easy. I used my hand to spread myself open just a little more around him, and he slid all the way in.
"Ohhhhhh," I moaned as he bottomed out, pressing just that little bit more inside me, stretching me out to accommodate him. I love that feeling.
He was thrusting, talking, saying dirty things. My head was tossed back and I was moaning, arching into him, so I have no idea how he was even moving, but it was good. I moved my legs so that one was up higher along the back of the sofa and the other was wrapped around his back, allowing him a better angle and allowing me to rock with him a little more.
"So fucking sexy," he kept saying, each time prompting a loud agreement from me. Fuck yes, this was sexy.
"You know what would be nice?" he asked eventually.
"Uhhh?" I moaned. This was nice. Nice? Hell, what's he talking about?
"If I threw you over the arm of the sofa and fucked you like that."
"Mmmmmmm," I agreed.
He slid into me a few more times, feeling so incredible I didn't want him to ever stop, but then he did, pulling away, standing up.
"Come on, fuck toy," he said. I groaned and did as I was told, bending over the arm of the sofa, standing on my tiptoes on the floor.
"Good girl," he praised me. He is so much taller than me. He grabbed my hips and slid in. Oh, fuck, so good. So hot, bent over the arm of the sofa and fucked. I was screaming, and then he started slapping my ass.
It was too too much. My tiptoes couldn't maintain contact with the floor. I lifted my feet into the air and then his hands were gripping my ankles as he pounded into me - faster, faster, faster.
"Oh my God," I screamed.
"Gonna come in you, bitch," he growled, as he did just that. He kept fucking into me then, as his cock softened. His hand was pulling up on my hair and I was screaming.
I crawled forward onto the sofa, collapsing with my legs still in the air over the arm, and he (rather abruptly) came around and sat down. I put my head in his lap and he rubbed my back while I cleaned his cock with my mouth.
All of that and the man never took off his boxers.
We pulled a blanket over us and lay like that, our fingers entwined, me mostly blissed out, until we felt we should probably wash up and put clothes on before the absent people returned.
What else?
"What you wanna do now?" I asked my husband as the car left the driveway. We were sitting on the sofa. He waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively and I giggled.
His arm was around me and I was kissing his throat, still giggling a little. He tightened his grip and just like that, I was there, his. He shoved my shirt up, shoved my bra out of the way, and his lips were fastened to my nipple - sucking, biting, hurting. I moaned, sliding into the corner of the sofa against the arm, half reclining.
He had my jeans off, and then the layer of long underwear, followed by my panties. "Gonna fuck you, girl," he growled, his hand on my back forcing me to arch my breasts more into his face. His other hand started slapping the breast that he wasn't torturing with his mouth. He was sucking and biting on one side and spanking on the other. I was twisting, but he held me fast.
"Are you for me to fuck?" he asked.
"Yes sir," I moaned.
He shoved my legs apart - one along the sofa's cushions, the other stretched out on the floor, and started spanking my inner thighs, forcing little cries from me with each slap. The Christmas tree twinkled at me.
"Look at you, all naked," he murmured, spanking my spread pussy, making me scream. "Well, mostly." My shirt and bra, pushed up over my breasts, accentuated my nudity rather than helping me feel more covered. I moaned. I felt his hips lift, heard the sofa's springs creak, as he divested himself of his own jeans. His hard cock poked through the slit in his boxers and pressed against my bare leg, the intense heat of it contrasting with the chill of the room that was already trying to settle on my skin.
He was enjoying slapping my sensitive parts far too much. Thigh, pussy, other thigh. I arched into him, and his fingers were gentle, touching my folds but not delving very deep. I groaned.
"Want me, girl?" he asked roughly.
Holy fuck. Is it not obvious?
"Yes sir," I whispered, hoarse from the crying out.
"Hmm... what to do with you," he pondered, pulling away a little. In the corner of the couch with my legs splayed open in either direction is certainly not a position that I recall us trying before. I groaned with disappointment when he was not touching me, but then there he was, the head of his cock nudging at my opening. I have no idea what he had to do to get into that position, to get his cock lined up with me just right. It can't have been easy. I used my hand to spread myself open just a little more around him, and he slid all the way in.
"Ohhhhhh," I moaned as he bottomed out, pressing just that little bit more inside me, stretching me out to accommodate him. I love that feeling.
He was thrusting, talking, saying dirty things. My head was tossed back and I was moaning, arching into him, so I have no idea how he was even moving, but it was good. I moved my legs so that one was up higher along the back of the sofa and the other was wrapped around his back, allowing him a better angle and allowing me to rock with him a little more.
"So fucking sexy," he kept saying, each time prompting a loud agreement from me. Fuck yes, this was sexy.
"You know what would be nice?" he asked eventually.
"Uhhh?" I moaned. This was nice. Nice? Hell, what's he talking about?
"If I threw you over the arm of the sofa and fucked you like that."
"Mmmmmmm," I agreed.
He slid into me a few more times, feeling so incredible I didn't want him to ever stop, but then he did, pulling away, standing up.
"Come on, fuck toy," he said. I groaned and did as I was told, bending over the arm of the sofa, standing on my tiptoes on the floor.
"Good girl," he praised me. He is so much taller than me. He grabbed my hips and slid in. Oh, fuck, so good. So hot, bent over the arm of the sofa and fucked. I was screaming, and then he started slapping my ass.
It was too too much. My tiptoes couldn't maintain contact with the floor. I lifted my feet into the air and then his hands were gripping my ankles as he pounded into me - faster, faster, faster.
"Oh my God," I screamed.
"Gonna come in you, bitch," he growled, as he did just that. He kept fucking into me then, as his cock softened. His hand was pulling up on my hair and I was screaming.
I crawled forward onto the sofa, collapsing with my legs still in the air over the arm, and he (rather abruptly) came around and sat down. I put my head in his lap and he rubbed my back while I cleaned his cock with my mouth.
All of that and the man never took off his boxers.
We pulled a blanket over us and lay like that, our fingers entwined, me mostly blissed out, until we felt we should probably wash up and put clothes on before the absent people returned.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Owned
He joins me in bed, and I immediately put my Kindle away and turn toward him, into his embrace. "No one said you had to put that away," he says, sounding amused as his arms wrap around me, his fingertips tracing goosebumps along my bare skin.
"Mmm, I know what's good for me," I answer softly, kissing his chest, peppering his warm skin with my love.
"I know what's good for me, and it's here in my arms," he says. Smoothness, rolling off his tongue like honey. I purr, and before the sound even finishes coming out of my throat, he's got my nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard. Harder, harder, and I'm squealing because it's an intense pain. The nipple is still sore from what he did to it the night before. He lets it go, briefly, rubs his palm across it and then grabs it between his fingers again, pulling up on it. I scream as quietly as I can manage.
"Mmm, I know what's good for me," I answer softly, kissing his chest, peppering his warm skin with my love.
"I know what's good for me, and it's here in my arms," he says. Smoothness, rolling off his tongue like honey. I purr, and before the sound even finishes coming out of my throat, he's got my nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard. Harder, harder, and I'm squealing because it's an intense pain. The nipple is still sore from what he did to it the night before. He lets it go, briefly, rubs his palm across it and then grabs it between his fingers again, pulling up on it. I scream as quietly as I can manage.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Say thank you
12:45 AM. What the hell? How? A chat with a good friend, a project to complete, lots of wonderful emails to respond to, and a bath. That's how. Time just flies away when you're mixing work and pleasure so very thoroughly.
Climbing into bed with my husband, I was a little put-out. Just a little. He'd coaxed me out of bed in the late morning with an implication we would go back to bed in the afternoon, and it hadn't happened. "In the interest of open communication," I told him as I cleaned up the bathroom vanity and then climbed in next to him, "when you coax a girl out of bed with promises of going to bed later, not going to bed later is going to lead to a discontented girl."
I wouldn't have even been put out if it was earlier, and of course the lateness of the hour was not entirely his fault, although he did nothing to stop my mad typing in the late evening. He is meant to be the one making the command decisions.
He drew me close to him, spooning me with his arm draped around me, and I started playing a game on my Kindle Fire. No tech in the bedroom has been suffering due to my cold - so I just started playing. Fruit Ninja. I assumed he would go to sleep. He didn't. His hand started to slowly, slowly squeeze a nipple until I was gasping in pain, and then he moved to the other one.
"What are you doing?" I squeaked, as he squeezed it hard and moved back to the first one.
"Playing with you," he said blithely, alternating slow painful squeezes with hard, sharp, twisting ones as he moved between my nipples. I was still trying to play. "I bet it makes it hard to slice fruit," he observed as I gasped. Eventually I let the Kindle drop to the bed and I gave myself to the sensations he was causing. God, I love when he hurts my nipples. I raised my arm over my head to provide better targets, breathing through it as he slowly, slowly, slowly squeezed. Through pleasure and into pain that was just a more intense pleasure and I was panting. I could feel myself getting wet just from this.
His hand moved and he slapped my ass, hard. Oh, that's been a while. Pain, spanking, oh, fuck, yes. Who cares how late it is? I rolled over enough to offer my ass up for more, and he gave it. He was landing hard smacks that resonated deep into my being, making me groan because they were so delicious and shook my very bones. "Good girl," he said, and tugged on my shoulder to pull me back onto my side, so he could access my nipples again. He alternated between smacking my ass and slowly pinching my nipple then, until I was groaning near-constantly, my breath coming in short sharp pants.
He pulled me onto my back and then he was smacking me right on my nipples, back and forth between them. "Oh my God," I cried out, far too loudly, arching up into his smacks. Oh, so good. So fucking good.
He yanked my legs apart and then he was smacking me on my inner thighs.
It's been weeks since I've been hit anywhere but on the nipples, and I was super-sensitive to it all, the thighs most of all. I cried out. "Oh my God, that hurts, that hurts, it's sensitive," I panted as I struggled to keep my legs open.
"Is my girl sensitive?" he asked mockingly, knowing that I was, not caring, knowing that it turned me on like a faucet. "Does it hurt when I hit you here?" he asked, slapping my right inner thigh several times.
"God, yes," I squealed.
"And here?" he switched to the other leg, slapping even harder.
"Oh, fuck, yes, hurts," I begged.
"And here?" he asked, centering the blows, right on my pussy. He wasn't slapping nearly as hard, but was doing it faster.
"No no no no no," I panted with each fast strike, and with each "no," he increased the force behind the next blow.
"No no no no no," I said, and then he hit the pain point and it did hurt. "Yes yes yes," I was squealing, squirming, as he continued his rapid-fire assault on my genitals.
When he stopped, his fingers gently explored and found me soaking wet. "Ooooooooooh, what have we here?" he asked, his finger slipping inside and making me groan. "Does the fuck toy like to be played with? Does the fuck toy like to be used?"
"Yes sir," I whispered, arching into his touch.
"Good girl," he said. "Let's see what else you might like."
He climbed up over me, pulled off his shirt in front of me, and put his cock in front of my face, just out of reach of my mouth. I was panting. I am still stuffy and can't breathe well, so most of my breathing is through my mouth, but this was beyond just mouth-breathing. He was straddling my body, so I couldn't bend at the waist to lift up and take his cock in my mouth.
He rubbed it against my cheek, over my open lips. I licked it as it passed, groaning.
"You like that cock?" he asked roughly, already knowing the answer.
I moaned in response, lifting my head as best I could to lick it. He rubbed it against my other cheek, and humped against my face as if he was fucking it, just not quite letting his cock in my mouth. I groaned, and then he was pushing into my mouth, pressing his cock in as I moaned, pushing it in as far as he dared considering my sore throat. He pulled away for me to cough and breathe, and then he pushed in again, fucking my face slowly until I had to breathe, then giving me a moment for air again.
I can't quite put into words how hot it was for me that he was fucking my access to air, and he knew it.
He pressed in so deeply he was almost in my throat, pinning my head to the pillow, and I couldn't breathe. I could feel myself becoming wetter and wetter, and then he pulled away for me to cough, to haul in lungfuls of air.
"Poor fuck toy. You like sucking cock?"
I nodded desperately, as he rubbed his saliva-slick cock against my cheek while I panted for air.
"It's one of your favorite things, isn't it?" he said, shoving his cock back into my mouth.
I sucked, nodding slightly.
"I know. One day, you'll be able to have your face fucked without needing to cough, without needing to breathe. Won't that be nice?"
"Uh-huh," I grunted, as he pulled his cock away again for me to breathe.
He slid down my body then, and unceremoniously started to sink his hardness into my soaking wet pussy. I grunted as the head penetrated me - it felt enormous and I made a lot of noise.
"Good girl, take it, take me," he said, slowly, slowly pressing more into me. Slowly. So fucking slowly. I was writhing beneath him as he made his way into my body, making a lot of noise. He felt so incredible, stretching my internal walls apart, all the way down, and then he kept driving all the way through me, as if I wasn't there, pinning me thoroughly with his cock. I moved under him, squeezing my muscles around his hardness, relishing the feeling of being full of him. It was good. He pulled away slightly only to drive just as hard back down again, and then he was fucking me in earnest, pausing periodically to pin me down with both his cock and his gaze.
"Good fuck hole." My shuddery moan must have prodded him to keep talking, because he continued in the same vein. "This is what you're for, isn't it? For me to shove my cock into over, and over, and over." He accentuated each "over" with a hard thrust into my body that I gladly met, moaning with pleasure.
"Uh-huh," I agreed, out of my mind as we moved together.
"I give it to you and you just say 'thank you,' isn't that right, fuck toy?"
"Uh-huh," I agreed again, not processing what he was doing, the pleasure nerves that kept firing interfering with my normal brain function.
He drove into me, leaned his face down. One of my ears is dead right now, his lips were near my good ear. "Say thank you," he ordered roughly, his voice rasping along my ear canal all the way into my brain.
"Thank you," I whispered, breathless, and then, as if his command and the following words had unleashed some floodgate holding back my voice, I continued as we fucked. "Thank you, thank you, oh my God, thank you," I babbled, unable to hold it back.
"Good girl," he praised me through my babbling. "Are you thankful for my cock, fuck toy?" He drove it inside me and flexed for emphasis.
"Yes sir, ohmyGod, thank you." I was overwhelmed. I kept periodically babbling "Thank you, thank you," when he felt particularly amazing, his body moving against me. His hands grabbed my legs, pulled them up higher as he fucked down into me, and my eyes were rolling, open, closed, open. They caught his gaze once.
"That's right, fuck hole, look at me," he said. I did, as long as I could.
"Oh my God," I murmured, as his eyes burned heat into my soul and I couldn't stand it anymore - the pleasure was too great and my head rolled back, tossing as he kept fucking me. My hands roamed his back, pulling his hips into me hard when he allowed it. Sometimes he pulled away, lifting himself higher to slam into me with more force, but mostly he let me pull him close, our bodies merged and moving together.
His climax approached slowly, intensely. He was groaning for long moments as he came, as the pleasure washed over him. I glanced up at his face - if there ever was an image of bliss, it was his face at that moment.
Before he slid his fingers inside me and made me scream with pleasure over and over, as we lay tangled together, he whispered, breathlessly, "You forgive me for this afternoon?"
I laughed, loudly.
"No, that's not what this was about," he assured me, as he let his fingers take over the pleasure they had initiated so long ago.
Climbing into bed with my husband, I was a little put-out. Just a little. He'd coaxed me out of bed in the late morning with an implication we would go back to bed in the afternoon, and it hadn't happened. "In the interest of open communication," I told him as I cleaned up the bathroom vanity and then climbed in next to him, "when you coax a girl out of bed with promises of going to bed later, not going to bed later is going to lead to a discontented girl."
I wouldn't have even been put out if it was earlier, and of course the lateness of the hour was not entirely his fault, although he did nothing to stop my mad typing in the late evening. He is meant to be the one making the command decisions.
He drew me close to him, spooning me with his arm draped around me, and I started playing a game on my Kindle Fire. No tech in the bedroom has been suffering due to my cold - so I just started playing. Fruit Ninja. I assumed he would go to sleep. He didn't. His hand started to slowly, slowly squeeze a nipple until I was gasping in pain, and then he moved to the other one.
"What are you doing?" I squeaked, as he squeezed it hard and moved back to the first one.
"Playing with you," he said blithely, alternating slow painful squeezes with hard, sharp, twisting ones as he moved between my nipples. I was still trying to play. "I bet it makes it hard to slice fruit," he observed as I gasped. Eventually I let the Kindle drop to the bed and I gave myself to the sensations he was causing. God, I love when he hurts my nipples. I raised my arm over my head to provide better targets, breathing through it as he slowly, slowly, slowly squeezed. Through pleasure and into pain that was just a more intense pleasure and I was panting. I could feel myself getting wet just from this.
His hand moved and he slapped my ass, hard. Oh, that's been a while. Pain, spanking, oh, fuck, yes. Who cares how late it is? I rolled over enough to offer my ass up for more, and he gave it. He was landing hard smacks that resonated deep into my being, making me groan because they were so delicious and shook my very bones. "Good girl," he said, and tugged on my shoulder to pull me back onto my side, so he could access my nipples again. He alternated between smacking my ass and slowly pinching my nipple then, until I was groaning near-constantly, my breath coming in short sharp pants.
He pulled me onto my back and then he was smacking me right on my nipples, back and forth between them. "Oh my God," I cried out, far too loudly, arching up into his smacks. Oh, so good. So fucking good.
He yanked my legs apart and then he was smacking me on my inner thighs.
It's been weeks since I've been hit anywhere but on the nipples, and I was super-sensitive to it all, the thighs most of all. I cried out. "Oh my God, that hurts, that hurts, it's sensitive," I panted as I struggled to keep my legs open.
"Is my girl sensitive?" he asked mockingly, knowing that I was, not caring, knowing that it turned me on like a faucet. "Does it hurt when I hit you here?" he asked, slapping my right inner thigh several times.
"God, yes," I squealed.
"And here?" he switched to the other leg, slapping even harder.
"Oh, fuck, yes, hurts," I begged.
"And here?" he asked, centering the blows, right on my pussy. He wasn't slapping nearly as hard, but was doing it faster.
"No no no no no," I panted with each fast strike, and with each "no," he increased the force behind the next blow.
"No no no no no," I said, and then he hit the pain point and it did hurt. "Yes yes yes," I was squealing, squirming, as he continued his rapid-fire assault on my genitals.
When he stopped, his fingers gently explored and found me soaking wet. "Ooooooooooh, what have we here?" he asked, his finger slipping inside and making me groan. "Does the fuck toy like to be played with? Does the fuck toy like to be used?"
"Yes sir," I whispered, arching into his touch.
"Good girl," he said. "Let's see what else you might like."
He climbed up over me, pulled off his shirt in front of me, and put his cock in front of my face, just out of reach of my mouth. I was panting. I am still stuffy and can't breathe well, so most of my breathing is through my mouth, but this was beyond just mouth-breathing. He was straddling my body, so I couldn't bend at the waist to lift up and take his cock in my mouth.
He rubbed it against my cheek, over my open lips. I licked it as it passed, groaning.
"You like that cock?" he asked roughly, already knowing the answer.
I moaned in response, lifting my head as best I could to lick it. He rubbed it against my other cheek, and humped against my face as if he was fucking it, just not quite letting his cock in my mouth. I groaned, and then he was pushing into my mouth, pressing his cock in as I moaned, pushing it in as far as he dared considering my sore throat. He pulled away for me to cough and breathe, and then he pushed in again, fucking my face slowly until I had to breathe, then giving me a moment for air again.
I can't quite put into words how hot it was for me that he was fucking my access to air, and he knew it.
He pressed in so deeply he was almost in my throat, pinning my head to the pillow, and I couldn't breathe. I could feel myself becoming wetter and wetter, and then he pulled away for me to cough, to haul in lungfuls of air.
"Poor fuck toy. You like sucking cock?"
I nodded desperately, as he rubbed his saliva-slick cock against my cheek while I panted for air.
"It's one of your favorite things, isn't it?" he said, shoving his cock back into my mouth.
I sucked, nodding slightly.
"I know. One day, you'll be able to have your face fucked without needing to cough, without needing to breathe. Won't that be nice?"
"Uh-huh," I grunted, as he pulled his cock away again for me to breathe.
He slid down my body then, and unceremoniously started to sink his hardness into my soaking wet pussy. I grunted as the head penetrated me - it felt enormous and I made a lot of noise.
"Good girl, take it, take me," he said, slowly, slowly pressing more into me. Slowly. So fucking slowly. I was writhing beneath him as he made his way into my body, making a lot of noise. He felt so incredible, stretching my internal walls apart, all the way down, and then he kept driving all the way through me, as if I wasn't there, pinning me thoroughly with his cock. I moved under him, squeezing my muscles around his hardness, relishing the feeling of being full of him. It was good. He pulled away slightly only to drive just as hard back down again, and then he was fucking me in earnest, pausing periodically to pin me down with both his cock and his gaze.
"Good fuck hole." My shuddery moan must have prodded him to keep talking, because he continued in the same vein. "This is what you're for, isn't it? For me to shove my cock into over, and over, and over." He accentuated each "over" with a hard thrust into my body that I gladly met, moaning with pleasure.
"Uh-huh," I agreed, out of my mind as we moved together.
"I give it to you and you just say 'thank you,' isn't that right, fuck toy?"
"Uh-huh," I agreed again, not processing what he was doing, the pleasure nerves that kept firing interfering with my normal brain function.
He drove into me, leaned his face down. One of my ears is dead right now, his lips were near my good ear. "Say thank you," he ordered roughly, his voice rasping along my ear canal all the way into my brain.
"Thank you," I whispered, breathless, and then, as if his command and the following words had unleashed some floodgate holding back my voice, I continued as we fucked. "Thank you, thank you, oh my God, thank you," I babbled, unable to hold it back.
"Good girl," he praised me through my babbling. "Are you thankful for my cock, fuck toy?" He drove it inside me and flexed for emphasis.
"Yes sir, ohmyGod, thank you." I was overwhelmed. I kept periodically babbling "Thank you, thank you," when he felt particularly amazing, his body moving against me. His hands grabbed my legs, pulled them up higher as he fucked down into me, and my eyes were rolling, open, closed, open. They caught his gaze once.
"That's right, fuck hole, look at me," he said. I did, as long as I could.
"Oh my God," I murmured, as his eyes burned heat into my soul and I couldn't stand it anymore - the pleasure was too great and my head rolled back, tossing as he kept fucking me. My hands roamed his back, pulling his hips into me hard when he allowed it. Sometimes he pulled away, lifting himself higher to slam into me with more force, but mostly he let me pull him close, our bodies merged and moving together.
His climax approached slowly, intensely. He was groaning for long moments as he came, as the pleasure washed over him. I glanced up at his face - if there ever was an image of bliss, it was his face at that moment.
Before he slid his fingers inside me and made me scream with pleasure over and over, as we lay tangled together, he whispered, breathlessly, "You forgive me for this afternoon?"
I laughed, loudly.
"No, that's not what this was about," he assured me, as he let his fingers take over the pleasure they had initiated so long ago.
"Sometimes I just ignore these things and pretend they don't exist.
Unless we have special Thanksgiving-themed sex or something. Which would be hilarious
and I'm about to burst into laughter thinking about it."
Turns out, it's not so funny. It's actually insanely hot.
Monday, July 30, 2012
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.
"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.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Bliss
A long, long day of driving and we were in a private room for the night. I had been thrilled at the concept, but I was so worn out that I went to our room earlier than my husband did. I showered, relishing the hot needles of the water, the day's stresses melting out of me, pouring down the drain with the suds.
Once I was dry, I didn't even bother finding something to wear. I just slipped between the sheets and fell asleep, snuggling a pillow close to me.
The sound of a key rattling in the lock woke me. Yeah, we were going old-school and had a real key. "Ahhh," I heard my husband whisper to himself as he entered the room, "my sleeping beauty."
I smiled for several reasons, not least of which is that we had been reading The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty not so long ago, and that girl does not get to continue peacefully sleeping.
I didn't either.
I dozed while he prepared himself for bed. He joined me finally, wearing his shirt and boxers, and pulled me close to him. I sighed with the pleasure of it, of being in bed with my man before midnight. The vacation has been wonderful but a lot of late nights and early mornings and not much time for private play.
He was delighted to find me completely nude, and his hands wandered all over me. He whispered words of lust and I felt his cock pressing into me. I still tried to doze, while making soft purring sounds in response to him.
He was atop me then, spanking my breasts, making me cry out.
"Mine, mine, mine. Take it, take it," he said, his words either responses to my cries or punctuation for the blows he kept delivering. So long without a spanking of any kind had left me ultra-sensitive and I writhed beneath him as he hit me, quick bursts of slaps to one breast followed by more to the other, holding me down and talking to me while I twisted beneath him.
When he tired of that, he slid off next to me, pulling my legs open, trailing his fingertips lightly over my inner thighs. I purred with the pleasure of it even as I tensed in anticipation for the blows I knew he would be delivering soon, though I had no way of knowing when.
Despite my tensing, when he delivered the first blow, I cried out in surprise at how much it hurt.
"Mine to hurt!" he assured me, switching to the other thigh. He switched between them for some time while I bounced from the blows. Such a fierce sting! I rejoiced in being owned, in the sensations he was generating in me. I was so wet already; I longed for him to touch my pussy, but he kept spanking my thighs.
He stopped for a bit and stroked my legs, including my reddened thighs, his light touches making me whimper with pain. "Does that hurt?" he asked me, and I nodded, catching my breath. "Why do you think that hurts? Do you think this is why?" he asked, as he drew his hand back and returned to spanking my already throbbing thighs. I groaned, crying out softly with the blows, and felt myself slide deeper into that space where I am nothing but his - wondrously, gloriously his, no need to be anything but that. In that place I am not subjugated, but elevated to that fantastic summit of just being.
Something happened and he was sucking my nipple hard, using his teeth, his hand clutching my ass and his arm between my legs. I lifted my hips as pain rose up in my nipple, and my pussy rubbed against his arm. I realized I could stimulate myself that way and I started humping his wrist, his hand still clutching my ass, pulling me up when I arched into him. He must have felt how wet I was because he groaned. "Oh look, someone's gotten all turned on," he commented, his fingers slipping into my wetness, making me pant with need.
Then he was atop me, and his cock nudged against my pussy. It poked through the slit in his boxers and his bare flesh was against mine. I groaned and tilted my hips, causing the tip of his cock to lodge just within my entrance. Feeling that, I surged upward and then he was buried fully inside me, stretching me because it had been several days since I'd had his cock in my pussy. "Oh my God," I moaned, having forgotten just exactly how incredible it feels to have his rock hard cock buried fully in my body. I grabbed his hips and pulled him into me over and over, rising up to meet him.
"What a horny slut you are," he murmured as he obliged my lust, his words punctuated by my moans of pleasure. "Can't even wait for me to take my clothes off. Look at you. You just keep fucking me. I would have given you the cock, you know, but noo, you just had to take it."
His words pried themselves into my mind and their truth burrowed into me. I kept pulling him into me as deeply as I could, hanging onto him for dear life. "Oh, fuck," I gasped out, "I'm sorry."
"You should be!" he said as he drove himself deeply into me, forcing the breath from my body. "Can't even let a man get undressed."
He pulled away from me, and the emptiness was all-consuming. I had to have him back inside me. I whimpered as he pulled his clothes off, and opened my legs as wide as I could. He slid back inside me and I made a noise of completion, fulfilled pleasure oozing out of me. Oh, yes, it's so much better to be one than to be half.
"Oh, I bet you'd like to suck that cock, wouldn't you?" he asked me after we'd been moving together for some time.
"Yes sir," I agreed, licking my lips. I love sucking him after he's been inside me.
"Too bad. You're not going to get to."
"That's not very nice," I panted as I rocked with him.
"No one ever said I was nice. But what I'm going to do instead is make you turn over and fuck you from behind," he said slowly, making sure each word sank into me.
He removed himself from me, making me groan with the sudden emptiness. He was standing next to the bed, the hotel bed which is higher than ours, and he was pulling me closer to him by the hips. "Come on, be a good girl," he said.
I moved to my hands and knees, soft whimpers of need emerging from me. His cock forced its way inside me in this new position and it was amazing, stretching me in different ways this time.
With both his hands, he slowly gathered up all of my hair as it hung down around my shoulders, every last bit of it. I panted with anticipation as he took his time, still thrusting into me slowly. Once he'd captured all my hair, he held onto it with one hand and tugged on it regularly, pulling my head back by the ponytail he'd created as he fucked me. His other hand wandered over my body, holding my hip, stroking my back. He talked to me, sweet sexy words cascading down over my bare back, entering my ears and creating shivers all over my body. "Oh my God," kept drifting out of my mouth between unintelligible grunts, sighs, and moans, unstoppable, a force of nature.
Back on the bed, his cock slid into me as we lay spooned. My legs needed to be opened wider, I needed to feel more exposed to him, and my top leg crept over his hip, curling around his waist backward, opening my pussy completely to him. His fingers played with me as we moved together, coaxing even more noises of pleasure from my lips.
He came, intensely, almost violently, words of ownership and love pouring out of him, words I agreed to eagerly.
His fingers found their way inside me, making me purr. He talked to me, objectifying, delicious things, questions to which I always answered yes. "MY fuckhole. Do you like being my fuckhole? Do you like when I call you my fuckhole? Oh yes, you do, look, fuckhole, you're getting even wetter. Why are you so wet, fuckhole?"
I melted into him. "Because I'm a fuckhole," I whispered, my voice breathy, almost breaking as I said the words, acknowledging my inner thoughts aloud. Such a powerful moment.
It took forever, but when I came, it was loudly, with my arms wrapped around him and my face buried against his neck. I haven't been able to make that much noise in a while, and it felt incredibly liberating and also naughty. I panted afterward but he drove me higher, higher. "Look at you go, fuckhole," he said, triggering another orgasm between his voice and his fingers. He kept going, and I'm not entirely sure how many orgasms vibrated out of me. I was blissed out.
We slept wrapped up in each other, our naked limbs intertwined, and for once we did not have to get up early.
Bliss takes many forms.
Most of them for me are him.
Once I was dry, I didn't even bother finding something to wear. I just slipped between the sheets and fell asleep, snuggling a pillow close to me.
The sound of a key rattling in the lock woke me. Yeah, we were going old-school and had a real key. "Ahhh," I heard my husband whisper to himself as he entered the room, "my sleeping beauty."
I smiled for several reasons, not least of which is that we had been reading The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty not so long ago, and that girl does not get to continue peacefully sleeping.
I didn't either.
I dozed while he prepared himself for bed. He joined me finally, wearing his shirt and boxers, and pulled me close to him. I sighed with the pleasure of it, of being in bed with my man before midnight. The vacation has been wonderful but a lot of late nights and early mornings and not much time for private play.
He was delighted to find me completely nude, and his hands wandered all over me. He whispered words of lust and I felt his cock pressing into me. I still tried to doze, while making soft purring sounds in response to him.
He was atop me then, spanking my breasts, making me cry out.
"Mine, mine, mine. Take it, take it," he said, his words either responses to my cries or punctuation for the blows he kept delivering. So long without a spanking of any kind had left me ultra-sensitive and I writhed beneath him as he hit me, quick bursts of slaps to one breast followed by more to the other, holding me down and talking to me while I twisted beneath him.
When he tired of that, he slid off next to me, pulling my legs open, trailing his fingertips lightly over my inner thighs. I purred with the pleasure of it even as I tensed in anticipation for the blows I knew he would be delivering soon, though I had no way of knowing when.
Despite my tensing, when he delivered the first blow, I cried out in surprise at how much it hurt.
"Mine to hurt!" he assured me, switching to the other thigh. He switched between them for some time while I bounced from the blows. Such a fierce sting! I rejoiced in being owned, in the sensations he was generating in me. I was so wet already; I longed for him to touch my pussy, but he kept spanking my thighs.
He stopped for a bit and stroked my legs, including my reddened thighs, his light touches making me whimper with pain. "Does that hurt?" he asked me, and I nodded, catching my breath. "Why do you think that hurts? Do you think this is why?" he asked, as he drew his hand back and returned to spanking my already throbbing thighs. I groaned, crying out softly with the blows, and felt myself slide deeper into that space where I am nothing but his - wondrously, gloriously his, no need to be anything but that. In that place I am not subjugated, but elevated to that fantastic summit of just being.
Something happened and he was sucking my nipple hard, using his teeth, his hand clutching my ass and his arm between my legs. I lifted my hips as pain rose up in my nipple, and my pussy rubbed against his arm. I realized I could stimulate myself that way and I started humping his wrist, his hand still clutching my ass, pulling me up when I arched into him. He must have felt how wet I was because he groaned. "Oh look, someone's gotten all turned on," he commented, his fingers slipping into my wetness, making me pant with need.
Then he was atop me, and his cock nudged against my pussy. It poked through the slit in his boxers and his bare flesh was against mine. I groaned and tilted my hips, causing the tip of his cock to lodge just within my entrance. Feeling that, I surged upward and then he was buried fully inside me, stretching me because it had been several days since I'd had his cock in my pussy. "Oh my God," I moaned, having forgotten just exactly how incredible it feels to have his rock hard cock buried fully in my body. I grabbed his hips and pulled him into me over and over, rising up to meet him.
"What a horny slut you are," he murmured as he obliged my lust, his words punctuated by my moans of pleasure. "Can't even wait for me to take my clothes off. Look at you. You just keep fucking me. I would have given you the cock, you know, but noo, you just had to take it."
His words pried themselves into my mind and their truth burrowed into me. I kept pulling him into me as deeply as I could, hanging onto him for dear life. "Oh, fuck," I gasped out, "I'm sorry."
"You should be!" he said as he drove himself deeply into me, forcing the breath from my body. "Can't even let a man get undressed."
He pulled away from me, and the emptiness was all-consuming. I had to have him back inside me. I whimpered as he pulled his clothes off, and opened my legs as wide as I could. He slid back inside me and I made a noise of completion, fulfilled pleasure oozing out of me. Oh, yes, it's so much better to be one than to be half.
"Oh, I bet you'd like to suck that cock, wouldn't you?" he asked me after we'd been moving together for some time.
"Yes sir," I agreed, licking my lips. I love sucking him after he's been inside me.
"Too bad. You're not going to get to."
"That's not very nice," I panted as I rocked with him.
"No one ever said I was nice. But what I'm going to do instead is make you turn over and fuck you from behind," he said slowly, making sure each word sank into me.
He removed himself from me, making me groan with the sudden emptiness. He was standing next to the bed, the hotel bed which is higher than ours, and he was pulling me closer to him by the hips. "Come on, be a good girl," he said.
I moved to my hands and knees, soft whimpers of need emerging from me. His cock forced its way inside me in this new position and it was amazing, stretching me in different ways this time.
With both his hands, he slowly gathered up all of my hair as it hung down around my shoulders, every last bit of it. I panted with anticipation as he took his time, still thrusting into me slowly. Once he'd captured all my hair, he held onto it with one hand and tugged on it regularly, pulling my head back by the ponytail he'd created as he fucked me. His other hand wandered over my body, holding my hip, stroking my back. He talked to me, sweet sexy words cascading down over my bare back, entering my ears and creating shivers all over my body. "Oh my God," kept drifting out of my mouth between unintelligible grunts, sighs, and moans, unstoppable, a force of nature.
Back on the bed, his cock slid into me as we lay spooned. My legs needed to be opened wider, I needed to feel more exposed to him, and my top leg crept over his hip, curling around his waist backward, opening my pussy completely to him. His fingers played with me as we moved together, coaxing even more noises of pleasure from my lips.
He came, intensely, almost violently, words of ownership and love pouring out of him, words I agreed to eagerly.
His fingers found their way inside me, making me purr. He talked to me, objectifying, delicious things, questions to which I always answered yes. "MY fuckhole. Do you like being my fuckhole? Do you like when I call you my fuckhole? Oh yes, you do, look, fuckhole, you're getting even wetter. Why are you so wet, fuckhole?"
I melted into him. "Because I'm a fuckhole," I whispered, my voice breathy, almost breaking as I said the words, acknowledging my inner thoughts aloud. Such a powerful moment.
It took forever, but when I came, it was loudly, with my arms wrapped around him and my face buried against his neck. I haven't been able to make that much noise in a while, and it felt incredibly liberating and also naughty. I panted afterward but he drove me higher, higher. "Look at you go, fuckhole," he said, triggering another orgasm between his voice and his fingers. He kept going, and I'm not entirely sure how many orgasms vibrated out of me. I was blissed out.
We slept wrapped up in each other, our naked limbs intertwined, and for once we did not have to get up early.
Bliss takes many forms.
Most of them for me are him.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Such a chore
I asked my husband as we lay tangled in each other's arms if it was a chore being married to me. He was distraught, saddened that I would even ask such a question, that it wasn't bloody obvious to me.
He was holding me with my head on his left arm, his left hand gripping my left wrist, me lying on my back. His fingers tightened around my wrist and I purred as the fingers of his right hand stroked down the sensitive inner part of my forearm. Stroking me there is the first way he ever turned me on, and it seemed a lovely callback. But then he pulled his hand back and slapped me there. I gasped and jumped, reflexively pulling at my arm a bit. His grip didn't relax, he held it there, stroked it gently again, then slapped, again, again, making me jump and gasp.
I've fantasized about such a thing... but I hadn't told him. Here he was doing it, making me purr and then slapping me on the sensitive inside of my arm... I trembled, feeling very very exposed, like he could read my mind.
He held on to my hand as he switched targets to my nipple, hitting my breast with blows of increasing intensity, until I started curling up and my body broke into a sweat, and beyond that.
"You're mine. I can hurt you if I want to. Can you imagine why I might be hitting you right now?"
"No," I whimpered, my body writhing helplessly as he kept hurting me.
"Maybe it's because you called yourself a chore. You're not a chore. You're here for my pleasure, aren't you? You're my girl. I'm your master. You please me. How can you be a chore, silly girl?" He hit me the whole time he talked.
I just whimpered in response.
"Oh, I know, it's just not fair for me to beat your poor breast like that, is it?" he asked sarcastically. "Not without giving the same to the other one," he finished his thought, slapping the other breast just as hard, many more times. I arched and writhed, trying to meet the blows and escape them at the same time, feeling the sweat become a slick sheen over my skin.
"I'm going to pinch it now," he said, his fingertips stroking around my nipple, making me whimper in anticipation of the pain. He pinched it just a little at first, slowly increasing the pressure and the pain, a breathless scream emerging from me as it grew unbearable. "Kiss me," he ordered in the midst of my scream. I tilted my open mouth to his and he took my screams into himself, kissing me deeply, continuing to increase the pressure, pulling my breast up by the nipple as he did.
"Good slut," he whispered against my lips as he released my nipple. "Maybe instead of calling you my slut, I should just call you my chore." I whined sadly against his mouth. "Oh, you don't like the sound of that, do you? Well, it doesn't matter what you like, chore, your job is to take what I want to give you." His hand moved to the other breast. "I'm going to pinch this one too, now," he informed me, claiming my lips in another steamy hot kiss as he pinched, pulling, sucking the cries of my pain into his body as he created them.
"You want me, don't you? You want me to fuck your face," he said, releasing my mouth and my nipple, his fingers stroking my burning breasts delicately.
"Oh, yes, please," I begged.
"Mmm, but it's such a chore to fuck you, so I don't know."
-----
"Oh, you want to suck that cock, don't you? It's right there.. but you can't suck it yet."
He let me curl my body toward it, it was less than an inch from my lips, hard, straining toward me. I slid my tongue out, moaning softly, my breasts burning with the beating they'd already taken, to lick the swollen head of his cock. He taunted me for a few minutes, letting me lick it longingly, before he finally relented. "Mmm, okay, well... I suppose you can suck it, but I'm going to have to hurt you if you do."
That was all the permission I needed. I opened my mouth wide and sucked his cock in, moaning softly with pleasure. His hand came crashing down onto my already-hurting breast, and I turned slightly on my back to allow him to hit me there better, screaming a little around his cock with the pain as the intensity of it increased. "My chore really wanted to suck my cock, didn't she?" he asked as he hit me, hard. "Bad, bad girl." I finally pulled away when the pain of his blows on my breasts became too much to bear, curling into a ball of pain, whimpering that it hurt.
"Poor slut, you just want to make me feel good, is that right? Bearing all that pain just to suck some cock..."
I nuzzled his cock with my nose, nodding against him. "Yes sir," I breathed.
"Mmm, okay, girl, I suppose I can let you suck it without hurting you." He stroked my head gently. "But.. you'll have to tell me 'thank you' every time I take my cock out of your mouth. Can you do that, slut?"
"Uh-huh," I panted, opening my mouth wide, ready.
His hands twined in my hair and he pushed my face onto his cock, pressing deep into my throat. "Take it, take it, girl," he urged me as my throat convulsed around the invasion. "Mmm, such a fucking chore to fuck you in the face, slut," he told me as he held my head and thrust into me. I gagged as he hit bottom, trying to straighten my throat out more as he pushed into it.
He thrust more, tugging on my hair, then moved my head up and down on his cock with a fistful of my hair as a handle. When he pulled away, resting the head of his cock against my lips, I whispered hoarsely, "Thank you."
"Mmmm, good girl," he said, forcing his cock back between my lips.
He rolled on top of me, fucked down into my face, his hands holding my face down to the mattress while he thrust. I couldn't move my head. I squealed, bucking under him. His legs brushed against my sore breasts, bringing fresh pain. I opened my throat as best I could and sucked like my life depended on it. "Mmm, you like it deep in there, don't you, slut?"
"Mmhmm," I managed to say around the cock filling my throat.
He pulled out of my throat, resting his cock against my lips again, and I hoarsely whispered "Thank you, thank you," again.
"Mmm, you're welcome, chore. You want it back in there?"
I nodded, and he teased me, rubbing it all around my face, my open mouth trying to capture it. "Yeah, I know your horny face wants it," he whispered, finally pressing it into my mouth, sliding to the back of my throat, holding my face down and fucking me there for a long time.
He pulled out again, waiting for my "Thank you," and then rolling to my side, pulling me with him, pressing my breasts around his cock and thrusting there, the sweat of my body and the saliva coating his cock lubricating his passage between my breasts. His hand gripped the top one tightly and I moaned, feeling every thrust against my tender, abused flesh.
"Such a chore to fuck your tits," he said, one hand squeezing my breast and the other holding my head against him, stroking my hair as I moaned at each thrust. "Does this hurt? Did the bad man beat up your poor breasts and then fuck them?"
"Mmhmm," I whimpered, pressing my lips to his chest and kissing him, sucking lightly, my arm wrapped around his slim hips, pulling him as close to me as I could.
"Mmm, good," he said.
-----
He was on top of me, fucking my pussy. I lifted my legs into the air on either side of him. "Mmmmm, such a fucking chore to fuck this pussy," he whispered, kissing me as he ground his body into mine.
I bent my knees, and he gripped one of my ankles, holding it out to the side of my body while I held on to the other one. I moaned constantly. "So fucking good," I whispered, opening my eyes to look into his. I couldn't bear the intensity of seeing this handsome man there above me, knowing he was inside me. I spasmed briefly and closed my eyes again.
"It's okay," he said roughly, "you can look at me while I fuck you."
I groaned deeply and opened my eyes again, gazing up at him for another moment before I was overcome again. I really couldn't. I lifted my legs higher.
"Nothing but a fuck hole now, are you?" he asked, making me moan my agreement as he moved, enjoying the sensation my lifted legs created, opening me up to him fully.
"It'd be really nice to come inside you," he mused as he fucked me, "but where?"
"Oh, oh, oh, my ass, come in my ass," I managed between my moans of pleasure.
"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you, chore?" He waited for my whimper and my positive response as he kept sliding inside me. "You like having your ass fucked until you can't stand it? And then beyond that, huh?" He kept grinding down into me, fucking me for a long, long time. I'm amazed at his stamina.
Eventually he said, "Okay, I'll come in your ass. But you can suck my cock some more first." I moaned loudly, excitedly, at that. Love.
"Mmm, my chore likes that, doesn't she?" he said, rolling off of me, making pleased noises as I dove after his cock with a vengeance and a hungry growl. "That cock taste good?" he asked, and I purred, delighted, sucking him into me, rolling my tongue across his lovely, lovely cock.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm... you just let me know when your mouth is tired of that cock, and I'll fuck you in the ass," he said.
I pulled away slightly, just enough to whisper "Not gonna happen," against the head of his cock before devouring him again.
"Not gonna get tired of it? Oh.. guess it's up to me then, isn't it?"
"Mmmmmm-hmmm," I purred, enjoying myself immensely at my assigned task, sliding my mouth up and down.
"Mmm, well, I'm not terribly inclined to stop you," he murmured through his pleased noises, "I like fucking your face." I was propped up on an elbow but I laid down, pulling him over on his side, and we stayed like that for a long, long time.
"Oh, that's right," he finally said, ages later, "you said you weren't going to get tired of that cock. You ready to get up on that ramp and have your ass fucked?"
"Nuh-uh," I whispered, sliding my tongue across the head of his cock. I hadn't thought we'd have to have the Liberator ramp involved. I'd envisioned something a bit more relaxing.
"Mmm, well, I'm ready to shove this cock into that tiny little asshole of yours and fuck it," he said brusquely, getting up, walking around to the bed, and putting the ramp on it.
I climbed up on the ramp obediently, presenting myself on my elbows and knees, and he was gently applying lube to my ass, stretching me just a tiny bit with a finger. Too soon, his cock was pressing against my tiny, tiny opening, then he burst through, holding still for just a moment.
"Mmmmmmm, how's that?" he asked.
"Uhhh, too big," I begged, desperate for a bit of time to adjust.
"Mmmmmm, nonsense," he said, gripping my hips and pumping despite my cries of discomfort. "See? It fills you up good, doesn't it? Such a chore to fuck you in the ass, slut, but somebody's gotta do it."
He moved slowly, and very, very slowly, I adjusted, and then it felt amazing. He pulled me up, to my hands, then a little beyond that, forcing me to balance on my fingertips, and pressed his front to my back, all along the lengths of our bodies, gripping my breasts. "Oh my God, oh, my God," I moaned, overwhelmed with love and devotion and sensation. If only we could stay like that for longer.
"I love you so fucking much, slut," he whispered as he moved inside me.
He reached around my thigh and let his fingers play in my pussy, his other hand yanking on my hair or gripping my throat. I screamed a lot.
He slid his fingers out of my pussy and stood up straighter, gripping my hips. "Such a fucking whore.." he said, quite clearly, deliberately. I startled, surprised, a whimper of uncertainty slipping out of me. "Yeah, you heard me right, fuckin' whore. Fucking chore," he said, gripping my hair tightly and pulling my head up and back toward him, making me cry out, a constant stream of ohmygod pouring from my open mouth as he moved inside my ass.
The intensity built and built and it grew from intensely pleasurable to almost unbearable, and he was still moving, still hard inside me. He moved faster and I was grunting with every movement; he felt impossibly huge inside my ass, which squeezed tighter around him involuntarily every time I thought about it. Then he was moving faster, moaning, grunting, excited, and I moaned with him because I felt him swell to an even more impossible hugeness.
He pumped his orgasm inside me as I urged him on with my moans, and he kept moving slowly, gently, afterwards.
"You want to lie down with me? Now that that chore's over with.." he murmured softly, sarcasm dripping from the last part. I whined and nodded, and he slowly withdrew, running his hands over my back. He pulled away from me and I stumbled off the ramp, pushing it off the bed and collapsing with my head toward the foot of the bed. He slid up next to me, pressing his body to my back, squeezing me close, hooking my top foot with his and pulling it back so he could slide his fingers to my pussy. I moaned, so sensitive there, trembling in the circle of his arm. His fingers were relentless, coaxing the pleasure from my exhausted body, whispering in my ear. "Sexy slut, I love you so much," he said. "You like this, don't you?" I purred for response, my body writhing as the pleasure built and built. It became too much and he liked that, as my body shook. "Mmm, yesss, squirm for me, baby," he murmured commandingly in my ear, continuing on until I screamed with release, my legs trying to kick but trapped by his, just vibrating there.
He didn't stop there. I thought he would, but he didn't. Orgasms cascaded onto me, through me, and I screamed over and over. "Mmmhmm, yeah, baby, come again for me," he whispered right into my ear, his fingers playing their magic on my body.
"I can't, I can't take anymore, love, please, please, love..."
"Mmm, yeah you can," his sexy voice said straight into my ear, his fingers pushing, pushing, and then I was screaming even louder, my legs vibrating between his, my whole body a tense arch of release, and I was begging him again to stop.
"Mmm, you can come again for me," he assured me.
"No, love, no..." I begged, writhing, trying uselessly to close my legs to him, to get away from the all-consuming intensity of the pleasure he was forcing on me.
"You don't get to say no, slut," he reminded me, forcing the loudest, hardest, longest orgasm from me. I collapsed against him afterward, panting, and he held me quietly as I rolled into his arms, resting my head on his chest, dropping little kisses all over him.
We talked. We talked and stroked and kissed and we turned around the right way on the bed to get the blankets on us and he held me against his chest and we talked more, about the amazing sex we'd just had, about how lucky we both felt to have each other, about how amazing our life together is. We talked for half an hour or more, kissing each other randomly in between. I told him, after some time, how it affected me to open my eyes and see his handsome face above me while he's inside of me, and he said that he'd noticed that.
"I think... it turns me on a little bit, the power I have over you," he told me.
"mmm, just a little?" I asked, grinning, kissing the smile on his face.
"Mmm, okay, a lot," he admitted. "I think you'll find I'm turned on right now..."
Oooh.
Well, one thing led to another.
And another, and another, in the morning after we'd slept...
I feel like I hit the kinky nympho jackpot.
I suppose I'm not a chore after all.
He was holding me with my head on his left arm, his left hand gripping my left wrist, me lying on my back. His fingers tightened around my wrist and I purred as the fingers of his right hand stroked down the sensitive inner part of my forearm. Stroking me there is the first way he ever turned me on, and it seemed a lovely callback. But then he pulled his hand back and slapped me there. I gasped and jumped, reflexively pulling at my arm a bit. His grip didn't relax, he held it there, stroked it gently again, then slapped, again, again, making me jump and gasp.
I've fantasized about such a thing... but I hadn't told him. Here he was doing it, making me purr and then slapping me on the sensitive inside of my arm... I trembled, feeling very very exposed, like he could read my mind.
He held on to my hand as he switched targets to my nipple, hitting my breast with blows of increasing intensity, until I started curling up and my body broke into a sweat, and beyond that.
"You're mine. I can hurt you if I want to. Can you imagine why I might be hitting you right now?"
"No," I whimpered, my body writhing helplessly as he kept hurting me.
"Maybe it's because you called yourself a chore. You're not a chore. You're here for my pleasure, aren't you? You're my girl. I'm your master. You please me. How can you be a chore, silly girl?" He hit me the whole time he talked.
I just whimpered in response.
"Oh, I know, it's just not fair for me to beat your poor breast like that, is it?" he asked sarcastically. "Not without giving the same to the other one," he finished his thought, slapping the other breast just as hard, many more times. I arched and writhed, trying to meet the blows and escape them at the same time, feeling the sweat become a slick sheen over my skin.
"I'm going to pinch it now," he said, his fingertips stroking around my nipple, making me whimper in anticipation of the pain. He pinched it just a little at first, slowly increasing the pressure and the pain, a breathless scream emerging from me as it grew unbearable. "Kiss me," he ordered in the midst of my scream. I tilted my open mouth to his and he took my screams into himself, kissing me deeply, continuing to increase the pressure, pulling my breast up by the nipple as he did.
"Good slut," he whispered against my lips as he released my nipple. "Maybe instead of calling you my slut, I should just call you my chore." I whined sadly against his mouth. "Oh, you don't like the sound of that, do you? Well, it doesn't matter what you like, chore, your job is to take what I want to give you." His hand moved to the other breast. "I'm going to pinch this one too, now," he informed me, claiming my lips in another steamy hot kiss as he pinched, pulling, sucking the cries of my pain into his body as he created them.
"You want me, don't you? You want me to fuck your face," he said, releasing my mouth and my nipple, his fingers stroking my burning breasts delicately.
"Oh, yes, please," I begged.
"Mmm, but it's such a chore to fuck you, so I don't know."
-----
"Oh, you want to suck that cock, don't you? It's right there.. but you can't suck it yet."
He let me curl my body toward it, it was less than an inch from my lips, hard, straining toward me. I slid my tongue out, moaning softly, my breasts burning with the beating they'd already taken, to lick the swollen head of his cock. He taunted me for a few minutes, letting me lick it longingly, before he finally relented. "Mmm, okay, well... I suppose you can suck it, but I'm going to have to hurt you if you do."
That was all the permission I needed. I opened my mouth wide and sucked his cock in, moaning softly with pleasure. His hand came crashing down onto my already-hurting breast, and I turned slightly on my back to allow him to hit me there better, screaming a little around his cock with the pain as the intensity of it increased. "My chore really wanted to suck my cock, didn't she?" he asked as he hit me, hard. "Bad, bad girl." I finally pulled away when the pain of his blows on my breasts became too much to bear, curling into a ball of pain, whimpering that it hurt.
"Poor slut, you just want to make me feel good, is that right? Bearing all that pain just to suck some cock..."
I nuzzled his cock with my nose, nodding against him. "Yes sir," I breathed.
"Mmm, okay, girl, I suppose I can let you suck it without hurting you." He stroked my head gently. "But.. you'll have to tell me 'thank you' every time I take my cock out of your mouth. Can you do that, slut?"
"Uh-huh," I panted, opening my mouth wide, ready.
His hands twined in my hair and he pushed my face onto his cock, pressing deep into my throat. "Take it, take it, girl," he urged me as my throat convulsed around the invasion. "Mmm, such a fucking chore to fuck you in the face, slut," he told me as he held my head and thrust into me. I gagged as he hit bottom, trying to straighten my throat out more as he pushed into it.
He thrust more, tugging on my hair, then moved my head up and down on his cock with a fistful of my hair as a handle. When he pulled away, resting the head of his cock against my lips, I whispered hoarsely, "Thank you."
"Mmmm, good girl," he said, forcing his cock back between my lips.
He rolled on top of me, fucked down into my face, his hands holding my face down to the mattress while he thrust. I couldn't move my head. I squealed, bucking under him. His legs brushed against my sore breasts, bringing fresh pain. I opened my throat as best I could and sucked like my life depended on it. "Mmm, you like it deep in there, don't you, slut?"
"Mmhmm," I managed to say around the cock filling my throat.
He pulled out of my throat, resting his cock against my lips again, and I hoarsely whispered "Thank you, thank you," again.
"Mmm, you're welcome, chore. You want it back in there?"
I nodded, and he teased me, rubbing it all around my face, my open mouth trying to capture it. "Yeah, I know your horny face wants it," he whispered, finally pressing it into my mouth, sliding to the back of my throat, holding my face down and fucking me there for a long time.
He pulled out again, waiting for my "Thank you," and then rolling to my side, pulling me with him, pressing my breasts around his cock and thrusting there, the sweat of my body and the saliva coating his cock lubricating his passage between my breasts. His hand gripped the top one tightly and I moaned, feeling every thrust against my tender, abused flesh.
"Such a chore to fuck your tits," he said, one hand squeezing my breast and the other holding my head against him, stroking my hair as I moaned at each thrust. "Does this hurt? Did the bad man beat up your poor breasts and then fuck them?"
"Mmhmm," I whimpered, pressing my lips to his chest and kissing him, sucking lightly, my arm wrapped around his slim hips, pulling him as close to me as I could.
"Mmm, good," he said.
-----
He was on top of me, fucking my pussy. I lifted my legs into the air on either side of him. "Mmmmm, such a fucking chore to fuck this pussy," he whispered, kissing me as he ground his body into mine.
I bent my knees, and he gripped one of my ankles, holding it out to the side of my body while I held on to the other one. I moaned constantly. "So fucking good," I whispered, opening my eyes to look into his. I couldn't bear the intensity of seeing this handsome man there above me, knowing he was inside me. I spasmed briefly and closed my eyes again.
"It's okay," he said roughly, "you can look at me while I fuck you."
I groaned deeply and opened my eyes again, gazing up at him for another moment before I was overcome again. I really couldn't. I lifted my legs higher.
"Nothing but a fuck hole now, are you?" he asked, making me moan my agreement as he moved, enjoying the sensation my lifted legs created, opening me up to him fully.
"It'd be really nice to come inside you," he mused as he fucked me, "but where?"
"Oh, oh, oh, my ass, come in my ass," I managed between my moans of pleasure.
"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you, chore?" He waited for my whimper and my positive response as he kept sliding inside me. "You like having your ass fucked until you can't stand it? And then beyond that, huh?" He kept grinding down into me, fucking me for a long, long time. I'm amazed at his stamina.
Eventually he said, "Okay, I'll come in your ass. But you can suck my cock some more first." I moaned loudly, excitedly, at that. Love.
"Mmm, my chore likes that, doesn't she?" he said, rolling off of me, making pleased noises as I dove after his cock with a vengeance and a hungry growl. "That cock taste good?" he asked, and I purred, delighted, sucking him into me, rolling my tongue across his lovely, lovely cock.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm... you just let me know when your mouth is tired of that cock, and I'll fuck you in the ass," he said.
I pulled away slightly, just enough to whisper "Not gonna happen," against the head of his cock before devouring him again.
"Not gonna get tired of it? Oh.. guess it's up to me then, isn't it?"
"Mmmmmm-hmmm," I purred, enjoying myself immensely at my assigned task, sliding my mouth up and down.
"Mmm, well, I'm not terribly inclined to stop you," he murmured through his pleased noises, "I like fucking your face." I was propped up on an elbow but I laid down, pulling him over on his side, and we stayed like that for a long, long time.
"Oh, that's right," he finally said, ages later, "you said you weren't going to get tired of that cock. You ready to get up on that ramp and have your ass fucked?"
"Nuh-uh," I whispered, sliding my tongue across the head of his cock. I hadn't thought we'd have to have the Liberator ramp involved. I'd envisioned something a bit more relaxing.
"Mmm, well, I'm ready to shove this cock into that tiny little asshole of yours and fuck it," he said brusquely, getting up, walking around to the bed, and putting the ramp on it.
I climbed up on the ramp obediently, presenting myself on my elbows and knees, and he was gently applying lube to my ass, stretching me just a tiny bit with a finger. Too soon, his cock was pressing against my tiny, tiny opening, then he burst through, holding still for just a moment.
"Mmmmmmm, how's that?" he asked.
"Uhhh, too big," I begged, desperate for a bit of time to adjust.
"Mmmmmm, nonsense," he said, gripping my hips and pumping despite my cries of discomfort. "See? It fills you up good, doesn't it? Such a chore to fuck you in the ass, slut, but somebody's gotta do it."
He moved slowly, and very, very slowly, I adjusted, and then it felt amazing. He pulled me up, to my hands, then a little beyond that, forcing me to balance on my fingertips, and pressed his front to my back, all along the lengths of our bodies, gripping my breasts. "Oh my God, oh, my God," I moaned, overwhelmed with love and devotion and sensation. If only we could stay like that for longer.
"I love you so fucking much, slut," he whispered as he moved inside me.
He reached around my thigh and let his fingers play in my pussy, his other hand yanking on my hair or gripping my throat. I screamed a lot.
He slid his fingers out of my pussy and stood up straighter, gripping my hips. "Such a fucking whore.." he said, quite clearly, deliberately. I startled, surprised, a whimper of uncertainty slipping out of me. "Yeah, you heard me right, fuckin' whore. Fucking chore," he said, gripping my hair tightly and pulling my head up and back toward him, making me cry out, a constant stream of ohmygod pouring from my open mouth as he moved inside my ass.
The intensity built and built and it grew from intensely pleasurable to almost unbearable, and he was still moving, still hard inside me. He moved faster and I was grunting with every movement; he felt impossibly huge inside my ass, which squeezed tighter around him involuntarily every time I thought about it. Then he was moving faster, moaning, grunting, excited, and I moaned with him because I felt him swell to an even more impossible hugeness.
He pumped his orgasm inside me as I urged him on with my moans, and he kept moving slowly, gently, afterwards.
"You want to lie down with me? Now that that chore's over with.." he murmured softly, sarcasm dripping from the last part. I whined and nodded, and he slowly withdrew, running his hands over my back. He pulled away from me and I stumbled off the ramp, pushing it off the bed and collapsing with my head toward the foot of the bed. He slid up next to me, pressing his body to my back, squeezing me close, hooking my top foot with his and pulling it back so he could slide his fingers to my pussy. I moaned, so sensitive there, trembling in the circle of his arm. His fingers were relentless, coaxing the pleasure from my exhausted body, whispering in my ear. "Sexy slut, I love you so much," he said. "You like this, don't you?" I purred for response, my body writhing as the pleasure built and built. It became too much and he liked that, as my body shook. "Mmm, yesss, squirm for me, baby," he murmured commandingly in my ear, continuing on until I screamed with release, my legs trying to kick but trapped by his, just vibrating there.
He didn't stop there. I thought he would, but he didn't. Orgasms cascaded onto me, through me, and I screamed over and over. "Mmmhmm, yeah, baby, come again for me," he whispered right into my ear, his fingers playing their magic on my body.
"I can't, I can't take anymore, love, please, please, love..."
"Mmm, yeah you can," his sexy voice said straight into my ear, his fingers pushing, pushing, and then I was screaming even louder, my legs vibrating between his, my whole body a tense arch of release, and I was begging him again to stop.
"Mmm, you can come again for me," he assured me.
"No, love, no..." I begged, writhing, trying uselessly to close my legs to him, to get away from the all-consuming intensity of the pleasure he was forcing on me.
"You don't get to say no, slut," he reminded me, forcing the loudest, hardest, longest orgasm from me. I collapsed against him afterward, panting, and he held me quietly as I rolled into his arms, resting my head on his chest, dropping little kisses all over him.
We talked. We talked and stroked and kissed and we turned around the right way on the bed to get the blankets on us and he held me against his chest and we talked more, about the amazing sex we'd just had, about how lucky we both felt to have each other, about how amazing our life together is. We talked for half an hour or more, kissing each other randomly in between. I told him, after some time, how it affected me to open my eyes and see his handsome face above me while he's inside of me, and he said that he'd noticed that.
"I think... it turns me on a little bit, the power I have over you," he told me.
"mmm, just a little?" I asked, grinning, kissing the smile on his face.
"Mmm, okay, a lot," he admitted. "I think you'll find I'm turned on right now..."
Oooh.
Well, one thing led to another.
And another, and another, in the morning after we'd slept...
I feel like I hit the kinky nympho jackpot.
I suppose I'm not a chore after all.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Back to normal
Some of you may have noticed that things have been a little sparse around my neck of the woods lately. We've been acting like tourists and tour-guides simultaneously for a little over two weeks; it takes its toll on a person. I think we're all rested up now though.
I had a long chat with a friend last night while my husband kept working on his computer. I was grinning and giggling and just having a grand old time. After, I was feeling frisky and I told him, "You know, you could have come to bed with me at any time, but you just kept tap-tap-tapping away."
"Work doesn't do itself, you know," he told me. "Neither does wife, for that matter."
I laughed. "I know! I keep trying, but it just doesn't work for me."
"So what can I do to make you feel good tonight?" he asked me, wrapping me in his arms and tossing his leg over me.
"Mmmmmm," I purred at the closeness, "I dunno, there's such an extreme deficit that you probably need to do everything to make up for it."
"Oh is that right?" he asked, a teasing edge to his voice. He drew his hand back and brought it down hard on my bare left breast, square on the nipple, causing me to inhale sharply and exhale a long moan. So long since such attention had been visited on my breasts. "I don't have anything to do this for me, you know," he informed me.
He slapped my breast repeatedly, and my nipple started burning. I was panting out little "Oh-oh-ohs" with each strike, arching up into the blows. My brain was afire with sensation. I'd missed this, so much.
I had a long chat with a friend last night while my husband kept working on his computer. I was grinning and giggling and just having a grand old time. After, I was feeling frisky and I told him, "You know, you could have come to bed with me at any time, but you just kept tap-tap-tapping away."
"Work doesn't do itself, you know," he told me. "Neither does wife, for that matter."
I laughed. "I know! I keep trying, but it just doesn't work for me."
"So what can I do to make you feel good tonight?" he asked me, wrapping me in his arms and tossing his leg over me.
"Mmmmmm," I purred at the closeness, "I dunno, there's such an extreme deficit that you probably need to do everything to make up for it."
"Oh is that right?" he asked, a teasing edge to his voice. He drew his hand back and brought it down hard on my bare left breast, square on the nipple, causing me to inhale sharply and exhale a long moan. So long since such attention had been visited on my breasts. "I don't have anything to do this for me, you know," he informed me.
He slapped my breast repeatedly, and my nipple started burning. I was panting out little "Oh-oh-ohs" with each strike, arching up into the blows. My brain was afire with sensation. I'd missed this, so much.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Friday night entertainment
"You're mine," he whispered as his hand gripped my throat. He kissed me, forcefully, taking my breath away. "I can do anything I want with you. And you'll thank me for it, won't you?" He paused long enough for me to nod slowly. "I think you better suck my cock now," he said, his hand delivering three hard smacks to my breast.
Sucking cock on my side, time stretched thin and then disappeared, sucked up into the vortex he created with his heat.
"Get between my legs," he ordered, turning onto his back.
I did. The lights were all on. I could see all of him, the nude magnificence of him, as I positioned myself between his legs, licked one long, slow, wet lick from his balls to the tip of his cock, and inhaled him with a hungry moan.
Sucking cock on my side, time stretched thin and then disappeared, sucked up into the vortex he created with his heat.
"Get between my legs," he ordered, turning onto his back.
I did. The lights were all on. I could see all of him, the nude magnificence of him, as I positioned myself between his legs, licked one long, slow, wet lick from his balls to the tip of his cock, and inhaled him with a hungry moan.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Magic
My husband and I have birthdays that are really, really close. He was premature by a few weeks and born a few days after I was, and I always joke that he knew he had to get out to be with me. Those few days between our birthdays exist as a kind of extended celebration between us.
The night before his birthday, we had sex that passed over the midnight mark, and he sent orgasms rolling through my body one after the other while I moaned and kicked and slapped the bed helplessly. "Oh fuck yeah," he whispered in my ear as the spasms rocked me. The morning of his birthday, I slipped down his body before we had to get up and sucked him to an orgasm we both enjoyed a lot.
We spent the day together, doing things that were amazing in their ordinariness. We went to a vegan restaurant for lunch (we hardly ever go out, so this was special), we bought toys, we took little head to a playground, we came home and he opened his presents, we snuggled on the bed for a while, and then I cooked him a fantastic Indian feast with the dessert (not Indian) of his choice. It was exhausting, but there was this magic over the whole day.
I made a new flogger too, while he played with little person.
It's pretty.
He didn't use it yet.
He had a headache, so I thought we would just lie in each other's arms and stroke each other until we fell asleep, but then he started stroking me with his magic fingertips, sending tingles all over my body and causing soft pleased noises.. okay, sometimes loud pleased noises, to come out of me.
Then, as I felt his cock growing against me, I slid down to suck on it and I sucked for a long, long, long time. He just let me, not really pushing or trying to fuck my face, which is amazing because that's when I can really deep-throat him. I love it when I can take my time, just fully experience him with my mouth and throat.
Eventually he told me to stop... in fact, he said he'd told me to stop earlier, but I hadn't heard him and he hadn't pressed the issue. He did make me stop once when he felt an orgasm impending, "because I wouldn't be able to do anything else with you."
He spooned me, then slid inside me and his cock felt as hard as steel - and having experienced Njoy's pure wand, I know whereof I speak. "Oh wow," I gasped out, "that's really hard."
"You can take it, can't you?"
"Oh yesss."
"That's good, because I have every intention of fucking you with this thing," he told me, his voice soft, loving, his words making me tremble with want. We moved together, delicious, in love, and he came, later, with an intensity that I really, really enjoyed.
He fell asleep. I laid there for a few minutes, wanting to curl into his arms but not wanting to wake him. I finally decided I would try to curl into his arms without disturbing him, and of course, he woke up. "I didn't mean to wake you," I whispered, as he wrapped his arms around me.
"I didn't mean to fall asleep," he responded, squeezing me, kissing me, and then using his magic fingers all over my skin again.
"Why are you magic fingering me again?" I asked softly between gasps of pleasure.
"Because I want to make you feel good, love."
And he did. Oh, he did.
Afterwards, I asked "I thought you had a headache?"
He said simply "It went away."
Magical day.
So in love with this man, and so happy that we have each other.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Tenderness intensified
I can't get my head together. I can't remember enough of the experience to fully describe it. I'm running on so little sleep these last few days and my brain isn't at top performance, yet I want to preserve what I do remember.
Leaving large whitespace gaps for the similar things in my recall.
This is how it started:
We had been snuggling in our bed with our little one, who had since gone off to bed and sleep, and we were talking. The conversation led him to say: "I like having control over you. I wouldn't do anything crazy with it, though. I think you should take your pants off now."
He started talking about things I like, things he'd like to do to me, things he doesn't do often, in that vein. "I bet you'd like your ass fucked more often, too, wouldn't you?" He waited for my affirmative response as he stroked my bottom.
"Oh, how'd this get so slippery?" he asked me in a low voice as his finger gently prodded my anus.
"It's oil," I whispered, sanity and reason already fleeing at this intimate invasion.
"Oh, you like to oil your ass, huh?" he responded, slipping the finger inside. I grunted. He moved his finger around, spurring soft moans from me. "How's that make you feel?"
"Owned."
He drove me out of my mind with his voice and his finger there, making sure I knew I belonged to him.
"So..how does this work again? I think you make the girl all wet, and then..what?"
He pulled me close to him, his fingers stroking my clit slowly at first and speeding up gradually as my hips bucked against him.
"I could fuck you. Ooor.. I could stop touching you entirely right now. If I wanted to, I could just leave you here, panting, gasping, wanting me. Couldn't I?"
"Oh, please, please, please fuck me," I begged.
He then quick-fired these questions at me, barely giving me time to grunt affirmatives between them. With each one, my breathing quickened and I moaned a little louder.
"Oooh, you want me, huh, bitch?"
"You want me to fuck you, bitch?"
"You want my cock, don't you, bitch?"
"Let me hear you bark, sweet little bitch." This demand set off a flare in my brain and I all but screamed, following up with whimpers.
"That works, whimper for me, just like a dog," he spoke roughly in my ear, his fingers still working their magic.
I did get his cock in my pussy, and then he finished in my mouth, tiny explosions of being owned going off in my brain the whole time.
He plugged my ass later, forced at least two orgasms from me.. really, all a delicious blur of sensation.
After, he wrapped me in his arms, stroking my hair, whispering so much love to me. "Such a good girl," he told me.
These moments feel so incredible. Such intensity followed by an equally intense tenderness.
I can't fully describe the bliss, but that's what it is.
Leaving large whitespace gaps for the similar things in my recall.
This is how it started:
We had been snuggling in our bed with our little one, who had since gone off to bed and sleep, and we were talking. The conversation led him to say: "I like having control over you. I wouldn't do anything crazy with it, though. I think you should take your pants off now."
He started talking about things I like, things he'd like to do to me, things he doesn't do often, in that vein. "I bet you'd like your ass fucked more often, too, wouldn't you?" He waited for my affirmative response as he stroked my bottom.
"Oh, how'd this get so slippery?" he asked me in a low voice as his finger gently prodded my anus.
"It's oil," I whispered, sanity and reason already fleeing at this intimate invasion.
"Oh, you like to oil your ass, huh?" he responded, slipping the finger inside. I grunted. He moved his finger around, spurring soft moans from me. "How's that make you feel?"
"Owned."
He drove me out of my mind with his voice and his finger there, making sure I knew I belonged to him.
"So..how does this work again? I think you make the girl all wet, and then..what?"
He pulled me close to him, his fingers stroking my clit slowly at first and speeding up gradually as my hips bucked against him.
"I could fuck you. Ooor.. I could stop touching you entirely right now. If I wanted to, I could just leave you here, panting, gasping, wanting me. Couldn't I?"
"Oh, please, please, please fuck me," I begged.
He then quick-fired these questions at me, barely giving me time to grunt affirmatives between them. With each one, my breathing quickened and I moaned a little louder.
"Oooh, you want me, huh, bitch?"
"You want me to fuck you, bitch?"
"You want my cock, don't you, bitch?"
"Let me hear you bark, sweet little bitch." This demand set off a flare in my brain and I all but screamed, following up with whimpers.
"That works, whimper for me, just like a dog," he spoke roughly in my ear, his fingers still working their magic.
I did get his cock in my pussy, and then he finished in my mouth, tiny explosions of being owned going off in my brain the whole time.
He plugged my ass later, forced at least two orgasms from me.. really, all a delicious blur of sensation.
After, he wrapped me in his arms, stroking my hair, whispering so much love to me. "Such a good girl," he told me.
These moments feel so incredible. Such intensity followed by an equally intense tenderness.
I can't fully describe the bliss, but that's what it is.
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