Dear reader, tonight was Punish Tuesday, our pre-organized kinky sex night, and I just got my brains fucked out.
I also did what I have never done before. And it wasn’t something you would easily guess. No, seriously!
One hour of foreplay for me. It sounds so improbably vanilla, right? The sad truth is that life isn’t like those bdsm stories where the dominant always gets her needs met. The reality is that either sex has worked for me or it hasn’t. Now Strong could be a generous enough lover, but we had so little time as a couple that he can be considered out of the discussion.
But it is almost embarassing that I’m almost a month shy of my 30th birthday and I’ve gotten so used to compromising what I needed that for all I can beat a man purple or tease his cock for an hour, asking for turn around physical attention was a taboo fetish.
So I stripped him and he and I cuddled up on the couch. One set timer later and he went to work with my body all lips and tongue and touching
Somewhere along the way, long before I appeared on the scene, Wildcard learned to work a woman’s body, with the same studious and attentive perfectionism and passion he puts into his cooking. But instead of rendering the fat of the roast chicken he’s salted and dismembered, he’s finding little spots between my fingers to nibble and zones on the back of my thighs to stroke.
And then as everything in me opened, he liesurely fucked me while I took that delicious sensitivity into an orgasm so loud I suspect the neighbours heard it through his desperate muffling hand. Apartment life.
Afterwards, with his erection lingering and my cunt having none of the freight train he likes to pretend is his penis, I filled his ass and gave him a slippey hand job – it mus have been intense because he was practically flapping his unrestrained arms.