His hand brushed my nipple and I jumped. It was so sensitive. "Oooh, does girl like that?" he asked, doing it again. I whined. My stomach was unhappy and there seems to be some sort of direct connection between my stomach and my nipple. Normally, yes, I would have loved it.
Now, I covered my nipple with my hand. "So sensitive, and my stomach feels icky," I explained.
"Poor baby," he said, moving his hand elsewhere, delicately stroking the skin of my throat, the upper slope of my breasts, my back. I made little breathless sounds of pleasure as he raised goosebumps all over me. "I'll leave your nipples alone - for tonight." I should hope he wouldn't leave them alone for longer.
He was holding me on his arm, my head nestled against his shoulder. My back had been turned to him but I rolled over more to give him better access to my front. My left wrist moved to find itself captured by his left hand. Oh, I love that. I twisted my wrist a little in the loose circle of his fingers.
"Should I stop this?" he asked, his fingers lightly dancing, sweeping, chasing tingles all over my body. Oh, his magic, magic fingers.
"Oh, you should," I whispered reluctantly, between my little moans of pleasure. I didn't want him to, but should was a different matter altogether.
"Why should I?" he asked, not stopping.
"Mmm, mmm.. it's late," I answered. We'd used the entire weekend up on fun activities and he had to be at work in the morning.
"Oh, is that all?"
"Uh-huh, were you expecting a different answer?"
He let his fingers drift over my throat, down my side. I was purring. "No. Just glad I didn't get a different answer."
He kept stroking me, whispering words of affection, drawing the pleasure out for an eternity. My legs spread wider and wider, but he hadn't yet touched me between them. I was humping the air by the time the side of his hand brushed against my folds. I jumped, a little shriek of delight and stimulation making its way out of my lips. "Ahh, is that sensitive like your nipple?" he asked, his fingers gently stroking my sensitive surfaces, not yet intruding.
"It is, but it doesn't make me feel sick," I answered, arching up, desperate for his fingertip to delve a little deeper.
He obliged me. "That's good. I'd hate to make you feel sick," he said, slipping his finger between my folds, running the tip around my opening, and up, up, up. He stopped just short of my clit, the little bud throbbing, begging for his attention.
I groaned deeply and tilted my hips, trying to guide his finger to that magic spot. God, how ridiculous I must look, I thought to myself, before he banished all thoughts by letting his finger glide up against my clit. I moaned deeply with pleasure and rocked my hips against his finger.
He is so good at this. I was lost. A little orgasm didn't take very long from my extreme state of arousal, but he kept going, not satisfied with the little cries and the little involuntary kicks.
"So good to fuck you. Such a good fuck hole," he murmured. I squealed. His words, so harsh, contrasting not only with the softness of his voice but with his actual actions, burrowed deep into me and chained me to him. I could feel myself grow even wetter. His fingertips gathered some of the extra moisture around my opening and spread it to my clit, where he kept his fingers moving quickly and lightly, making my body dance to his rhythm.
Another orgasm, and I writhed. Another, and my legs were spreading wide, my hips lifting as he touched me. I wasn't even sure if I was trying to move with him or get away from him. His finger never did slide inside me - just rocked against my clit as I thrashed next to him, whimpering, moaning, crying out. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my hip, but he was ignoring it in favor of tormenting me with endless pleasure. I lost count of the orgasms. My body was sweating lightly in the cool air and was arching up and down, my head lifting off the pillow and tossing itself back down again as I spasmed over and over and over, as he told me again and again to come for him.
"No," I said once, breathlessly, unable to summon the energy.
"Sure, you can come for me," he said, his finger continuing to move so lightly and so quickly. And I did. I couldn't stop myself.
"Good girl does what she's told," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Isn't it amazing how much pleasure you can bring a girl with one little fingertip?"
I could only pant my agreement.
When I was utterly spent, he slowly, slowly stopped, weaning my clit off the attention. I could still feel his cock pressing against my hip.
"Going to fuck you with my cock now," he said, his hand on my hip.
"Mmhmm," I agreed heartily, ready for that. So wet. He'd made me feel incredible already but I am always up for more if I'm not already asleep.
I turned to face away from him, leaned forward so my body was at an angle to his, and tossed my top leg backward over his. Such a lovely position. His cock slid inside my wetness easily, but he took his time about giving it all to me - just a little at a time, nice and slow. I was panting for it by the time our bodies were pressed together.
His finger found my clit again, something that particular position really, really has going for it. Already sensitized by the dozens of orgasms he'd just drawn from me, it didn't take long before he had me there again, at the shaking, trembling edge of the chasm. Another slow gentle nudge, a sexy word rasped out just for me, and I was tumbling over. Oh, ye gods, the pleasure. I was out of my mind with it.
Orgasms around his cock are divine - especially when I am trying to get away because he's already driven so many out of me. I was so, so sensitive, and as he gently prodded a third orgasm in this second set out of me with his finger, I writhed, squirming and kicking, trying to close my legs, to turn slightly away. I was breathless; reedy, helpless cries and pants were coming from me as I struggled to get enough oxygen to make the noises he was spurring from me. He wasn't having any of my escape. Despite his tenderness, the love burning out of him into me, he was firm. He was having what he wanted, and what he wanted was for me to come on his cock. Repeatedly.
"Oh, God, you're making me come all over your cock," I panted, realization dawning that the orgasms hadn't been convenient side effects of what he was doing.
"That's right, girl. Go on, come for me."
I did. I came, the most powerful orgasm yet washing over me, making me cry out. My legs shook from the sheer intensity of it - I could feel my lips start to go numb. As I writhed and shook, I could feel him throbbing within me, his own climax brought about by either my screams, my shaking, or the involuntary pulsing of my muscles around him.
We lay connected like that, our hands slowly stroking each other as his cock softened inside me. My screams and gasps for air had dried my throat out something terrible, though, and eventually I stirred to ask for water. He came back with it and let me drink before getting back in bed.
"I like the power I have over you," he whispered as he gathered me into his arms.
"I do, too," I answered softly.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Amusing D/s conundrum
There's this movie.
My husband, and most everyone in our circle, has seen it.
I have not.
I consider it part of my identity that I have specifically chosen not to see this particular film, and my husband has never taken issue with that. I chose not to watch it before we were ever a couple. In fact, in the world in my head, this film does not exist.
When it came out on DVD, I bought it for him. When he wanted to watch it with a friend, I left the house for the day and they had a day of it - I even made and brought them dinner!
Now we have a munchkin, and he wants the munchkin to see it. I'm fine with that, if it's important to him - I told him I'd go off to goodwill and browse while they watched it. He's not happy with that, though. He wants us all to watch it together.
I suppose you could say this film is a hard limit for me.
I'd do anything for him. Seriously, I would - he's amazing and he does so much for me, not just sex, though, holy hell, the sex.
Move across the country? Sure! Leave everything I ever loved behind? Sure, I'll cry a bit, but for you, babe, I'll do it. Suck your cock every morning before work? Yeah, that sounds awesome. Pay the bills? Plan the meals? Cook the food? Yes, yes, yes. Bear a child? Absolutely. Anything for you, love. Plan every outing that we have? Okay, I can do it. Plan a last minute trip for all of us so we don't have to be apart when you must travel on business? That takes some wrangling, but I can do it.
Watch this movie? .... I dunno.
I asked him to put it on a scale of 1-10 how important it was to him for me to do it, and that was a spectacular flop and he wound up giving up, so it's not like getting me to watch it will grant him some fantastic experience he'd be missing out on otherwise.
So, submission. Not a problem.
Except this.
It's a testament to how awesome the man is that I'm even considering this and not dismissing it out of hand.
I'd love to hear some thoughts on this - sacrificing something I consider part of my identity for his momentary, fleeting pleasure. It's not like he'd bask in the grand sacrifice of it or anything.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Owned
He joins me in bed, and I immediately put my Kindle away and turn toward him, into his embrace. "No one said you had to put that away," he says, sounding amused as his arms wrap around me, his fingertips tracing goosebumps along my bare skin.
"Mmm, I know what's good for me," I answer softly, kissing his chest, peppering his warm skin with my love.
"I know what's good for me, and it's here in my arms," he says. Smoothness, rolling off his tongue like honey. I purr, and before the sound even finishes coming out of my throat, he's got my nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard. Harder, harder, and I'm squealing because it's an intense pain. The nipple is still sore from what he did to it the night before. He lets it go, briefly, rubs his palm across it and then grabs it between his fingers again, pulling up on it. I scream as quietly as I can manage.
"Mmm, I know what's good for me," I answer softly, kissing his chest, peppering his warm skin with my love.
"I know what's good for me, and it's here in my arms," he says. Smoothness, rolling off his tongue like honey. I purr, and before the sound even finishes coming out of my throat, he's got my nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard. Harder, harder, and I'm squealing because it's an intense pain. The nipple is still sore from what he did to it the night before. He lets it go, briefly, rubs his palm across it and then grabs it between his fingers again, pulling up on it. I scream as quietly as I can manage.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
A bit of business
If anyone who reads here is thinking of ordering a custom flogger for the holidays, please do so within the next week or so. At the minimum, email me to let me know what you want so I can go ahead and make it. I'm easy like that. I am going out of town for a very, very extended period and won't be able to make custom floggers until late January.
I will bring my current stock along with me, so if you have your eye on one of those, everything's good.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Two for one
"Your nipples are sensitive and need toughening." It started as a joke, we were reading The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, and that's a line in the novel. His fingers began toying with my nipples as we continued reading our chapters, making me squirm long before we put the book down.
When we did, his fingers began tracing delicate trails all over my back before I could turn over. His beard brushed against my lower back, his hands exploring my ass. "It's been a long time since your body's been properly touched."
He touched my back until I was purring with pleasure, and then he pulled out a wooden ruler and began to spank me with it. "You're getting nice and red back here," he said, and switched implements.
Something unfamiliar, painful, hard but bouncy. "What IS that?" I asked, already a little foggy with desire.
"What is this? Hm. I think it's commonly called a belt. How does it feel?"
"I like it," I gasped out between cries. It hurt, deep, thudding pain with a sting in the head, but it was good, like deep tissue massage. I could not hold still as he applied it to my rear, though. I squirmed and wiggled and lifted my ass and lowered it again - but he kept right on.
He switched implements again - the braided flogger, snapping across my back and across the places on my ass where he'd been belting me. It felt much like the belt, with more texture. I gasped as it landed over my back, raising my ass to provide a better target.
He knocked my knees apart roughly, and started spanking my sensitive inner thighs. I was still on all fours, a new position for this sort of spanking, and I cried out over and over. He wasn't playing around, his hand smacked roughly into my flesh and I gasped and cried out and he mocked me. My pussy was already spread and helpless from the position so when he started spanking it, I was even more sensitive. I squirmed and panted and little screams came out of me. Oh, hell, my clit, the position made my clit more sensitive and more involved in the spanking, oh, hell.
His fingers spread me open, finding my wetness. "Oh, wow. I think someone likes being used, being beaten... being touched. Does this feel good, slut?" he asked, his finger slowly circling my clit.
"Uh-huh," I moaned, squirming.
"I didn't realize we'd moved on to the feeling good portion. I thought we were still in the pain portion," he said, pulling his hand away, looking for something. "Oh, wait, there's no difference, is there?"
"No," I whispered.
"Well, no difference for you.. I suppose if I asked you to pleasure me, you'd know not to hurt me, wouldn't you?"
"Yes sir."
"Good girl. You like everything, don't you my girl? I can think of something else you might like." He reached across me, his arm across my lower back holding me down, and lubricated my ass. He slid the mood naughty plug into me as I writhed. "Take it, girl," he whispered as he pressed it all the way in.
"Turn and face me," he said then.
I did, exclaiming as I rolled toward the lamp. My hair was all over my face at this point, but the light was still bright.
"Is the light too bright for you, fuck toy?"
"Mmhmm," I murmured, trying to duck my head close to his chest.
"But I want to look at you. You don't mind if I look at you, do you, fuck toy?"
"No sir." I shuddered as the words left me.
"But... it might be nice to switch to candlelight," he conceded, and leaned over to light a candle.
When he turned back over, he seized on my breasts and nipples. Breast torture. Oh, the most divine torture ever. His mouth, sucking hard, biting at my nipples in the most exquisite ways, tugging, pulling, squeezing. I swear I could have come from that given enough time. I started humping at him, instinct controlling my movements.
"Do you want me to fuck you while I torture your breasts?"
"Uh-huh.."
"Do you want me to fuck you while you have a plug in your ass while I torture your breasts?"
"Uh huh..."
On top of me. "Oh, my, slut, you're so wet."
"No room," I panted as he nudged his way inside me, the plug in my ass making it harder, making me cry out.
"Oh, there's plenty of room, it just slides right in there..."
He pulled away a little, started moving with short quick strokes just barely into me. I groaned.
"Oh, God, what are you doing?" I begged, arching up, wanting to feel him driving deeply inside.
"You want more cock, girl?"
"Yes," I panted, struggling to lift my hips higher, to take more of him.
"Better beg for it then." He continued fucking just the head of his cock into me.
"Oh, fuck, please, please," I was babbling, no proper method of begging existing in my brain at that moment, "please, want more cock, please, please."
"You want more cock?"
"Yes, please, please."
"Where?"
"In my pussy, please, please!" I was writhing desperately, my hands clutching at his hips, trying to pull him into me.
"Mmm, okay, girl. Have more cock. In your pussy." He drove into me fully then, grinding, my clit throbbing between us as we moved. I gasped.
He grabbed my hair, two big handfuls on each side of my head, and pulled it up diagonally away from my head, effectively holding my head in place in the center. I felt stretched, pinned, helpless.
When he kissed me, his cock still driving, his hands still keeping up the pressure on my hair, I felt like I was flying away - or falling. Or both all at once. I screamed against his mouth, uncontrollably, kissing him back and screaming as I flew and fell and flew.
He was finished, and he rolled off me. His fingers began to pleasure me - inside, against my clit. Orgasm.
Again.
Again.
"Oh, wow, you are completely out of control, aren't you? You just keep coming.. I don't think you could stop if you tried."
Again.
Again.
Screaming, writhing under his touch, wanting it to end and wanting it to never, ever end, the waves of pleasure that kept crashing over me taking my breath away and leaving me wanting more, more, more.
He rolled atop me, and I gasped with surprise as his cock plunged inside me again. "Oh my God..."
His kisses sent me spiraling again, as he took his pleasure with me a second time. "You don't mind if I fuck you some more now, do you?" he asked roughly, as if I had a choice in the matter. I quivered internally at the entire situation.
He took his time this time too, extracting the maximum amount of pleasure for both of us.
We lay exhausted afterward, his body wrapped around me in my husband-cage, holding me tightly to him. "You belong to me," he said softly, a touch of wonder mingled with the matter-of-factness of his tone.
"I know," I murmured happily, settling as closely in to him as I could before we fell asleep.
When we did, his fingers began tracing delicate trails all over my back before I could turn over. His beard brushed against my lower back, his hands exploring my ass. "It's been a long time since your body's been properly touched."
He touched my back until I was purring with pleasure, and then he pulled out a wooden ruler and began to spank me with it. "You're getting nice and red back here," he said, and switched implements.
Something unfamiliar, painful, hard but bouncy. "What IS that?" I asked, already a little foggy with desire.
"What is this? Hm. I think it's commonly called a belt. How does it feel?"
"I like it," I gasped out between cries. It hurt, deep, thudding pain with a sting in the head, but it was good, like deep tissue massage. I could not hold still as he applied it to my rear, though. I squirmed and wiggled and lifted my ass and lowered it again - but he kept right on.
He switched implements again - the braided flogger, snapping across my back and across the places on my ass where he'd been belting me. It felt much like the belt, with more texture. I gasped as it landed over my back, raising my ass to provide a better target.
He knocked my knees apart roughly, and started spanking my sensitive inner thighs. I was still on all fours, a new position for this sort of spanking, and I cried out over and over. He wasn't playing around, his hand smacked roughly into my flesh and I gasped and cried out and he mocked me. My pussy was already spread and helpless from the position so when he started spanking it, I was even more sensitive. I squirmed and panted and little screams came out of me. Oh, hell, my clit, the position made my clit more sensitive and more involved in the spanking, oh, hell.
His fingers spread me open, finding my wetness. "Oh, wow. I think someone likes being used, being beaten... being touched. Does this feel good, slut?" he asked, his finger slowly circling my clit.
"Uh-huh," I moaned, squirming.
"I didn't realize we'd moved on to the feeling good portion. I thought we were still in the pain portion," he said, pulling his hand away, looking for something. "Oh, wait, there's no difference, is there?"
"No," I whispered.
"Well, no difference for you.. I suppose if I asked you to pleasure me, you'd know not to hurt me, wouldn't you?"
"Yes sir."
"Good girl. You like everything, don't you my girl? I can think of something else you might like." He reached across me, his arm across my lower back holding me down, and lubricated my ass. He slid the mood naughty plug into me as I writhed. "Take it, girl," he whispered as he pressed it all the way in.
"Turn and face me," he said then.
I did, exclaiming as I rolled toward the lamp. My hair was all over my face at this point, but the light was still bright.
"Is the light too bright for you, fuck toy?"
"Mmhmm," I murmured, trying to duck my head close to his chest.
"But I want to look at you. You don't mind if I look at you, do you, fuck toy?"
"No sir." I shuddered as the words left me.
"But... it might be nice to switch to candlelight," he conceded, and leaned over to light a candle.
When he turned back over, he seized on my breasts and nipples. Breast torture. Oh, the most divine torture ever. His mouth, sucking hard, biting at my nipples in the most exquisite ways, tugging, pulling, squeezing. I swear I could have come from that given enough time. I started humping at him, instinct controlling my movements.
"Do you want me to fuck you while I torture your breasts?"
"Uh-huh.."
"Do you want me to fuck you while you have a plug in your ass while I torture your breasts?"
"Uh huh..."
On top of me. "Oh, my, slut, you're so wet."
"No room," I panted as he nudged his way inside me, the plug in my ass making it harder, making me cry out.
"Oh, there's plenty of room, it just slides right in there..."
He pulled away a little, started moving with short quick strokes just barely into me. I groaned.
"Oh, God, what are you doing?" I begged, arching up, wanting to feel him driving deeply inside.
"You want more cock, girl?"
"Yes," I panted, struggling to lift my hips higher, to take more of him.
"Better beg for it then." He continued fucking just the head of his cock into me.
"Oh, fuck, please, please," I was babbling, no proper method of begging existing in my brain at that moment, "please, want more cock, please, please."
"You want more cock?"
"Yes, please, please."
"Where?"
"In my pussy, please, please!" I was writhing desperately, my hands clutching at his hips, trying to pull him into me.
"Mmm, okay, girl. Have more cock. In your pussy." He drove into me fully then, grinding, my clit throbbing between us as we moved. I gasped.
He grabbed my hair, two big handfuls on each side of my head, and pulled it up diagonally away from my head, effectively holding my head in place in the center. I felt stretched, pinned, helpless.
When he kissed me, his cock still driving, his hands still keeping up the pressure on my hair, I felt like I was flying away - or falling. Or both all at once. I screamed against his mouth, uncontrollably, kissing him back and screaming as I flew and fell and flew.
He was finished, and he rolled off me. His fingers began to pleasure me - inside, against my clit. Orgasm.
Again.
Again.
"Oh, wow, you are completely out of control, aren't you? You just keep coming.. I don't think you could stop if you tried."
Again.
Again.
Screaming, writhing under his touch, wanting it to end and wanting it to never, ever end, the waves of pleasure that kept crashing over me taking my breath away and leaving me wanting more, more, more.
He rolled atop me, and I gasped with surprise as his cock plunged inside me again. "Oh my God..."
His kisses sent me spiraling again, as he took his pleasure with me a second time. "You don't mind if I fuck you some more now, do you?" he asked roughly, as if I had a choice in the matter. I quivered internally at the entire situation.
He took his time this time too, extracting the maximum amount of pleasure for both of us.
We lay exhausted afterward, his body wrapped around me in my husband-cage, holding me tightly to him. "You belong to me," he said softly, a touch of wonder mingled with the matter-of-factness of his tone.
"I know," I murmured happily, settling as closely in to him as I could before we fell asleep.
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