Feeding the trolls

Last night, my husband, for whom I feel absolute adoration, slid his cock into my mouth, while holding the sides of my head, pulling my hair, and calling me a "good little fuckhole."

My inner sex slave freaking loved this.

He also hit my ass until his hand hurt, then switched to the flogger, saying "You don't want my hand to hurt, do you?"

I was hurting quite a lot from the impacts and I whined. "You complain a lot!" he told me, "I guess I should beat you until you stop."

Another choice line of his, following a particularly loud yelp of mine resulting from a flogger strike: "Oh, does that hurt? It's okay, it didn't hurt my hand at all."

After the sex, we fell asleep together. I woke up later, too hot, unable to breathe, feeling sick. I whined a lot. He sympathized, even though he was sleeping with no problems himself. I had to drink a cup of ice water, take all the blankets off me, and ask him to turn the fan straight onto my naked body to even go back to sleep.

Even later, I woke up again, freezing, begging for blankets.

Again, he sympathized, helped me out, wrapped me in his arms. The man's a furnace. No complaints from him. He loves me, felt bad for me, did what he could to help.

I share sex here on my blog, the hottest sex we have as best I can recall it. It's lovely, wonderful, I couldn't ask for a better, more thoughtful, considerate lover. He does things to me because I've asked him to, I've told him the sorts of things I fantasize about, and he tries to make those fantasies come to life, even hotter. I don't usually include what happens beyond sex, though I do occasionally share a snippet of our lives together when the mood strikes me.

I don't need therapy for how I have sex. I might need therapy, as it's been said we all do - but not for sex.

I love the sex we have, and have no angst at all about it. It's delicious, magnificent, and it only gets better as the years pass and we discover more about each other.

I've never been called anyone's mistress before.

How my husband and I choose to express ourselves during sex is a matter of personal preference. I'm a little surprised and amused that someone would come to a BDSM related sex blog and expect anything else. Honestly, being called "bitch" once in a while is pretty low on the "list of kinks sorted by extremity." Oh, that doesn't exist? I should get on that.

I'm delighted that my husband and I are secure enough in our love and relationship that a bit of degradation talk for the sake of a kink doesn't damage anything in the slightest. If anything, it makes me love him more that he does this, overcoming his own discomfort because of how he's been socialized NOT to do these exact things.

Indeed, one shouldn't do these things unless one has been asked! Consent, consent, consent! Next on my to-do list, "The Consent Song!"

I congratulate this one troll on at least having excellent English abilities. The higher class troll such as that is really something to be proud of. If it hadn't been such a well-spoken, amusing troll, I'd have deleted it straight off, and had no reason for this post!

Well, I could have written more about the sex....