From tired to wired with a wink and a wank

masturbation month 29 may

Really, I was too tired for all of it. I lay there, naked in bed next to him, while he dangled the new cock ring on the end of a finger with a hopeful grin on his face. I considered groaning and rolling over to go to sleep but in truth I did want to feel his unique brand of pleasure again even if my body was going to be dragged into it, not so much kicking and screaming but sighing tiredly and snoozing between breaths.

I grabbed the lube from my side table. His face lit up, and I didn’t even have to look at him to tell that.

I’d like to tell you some beautiful rambling love story about how we embraced and the stars shined brighter and the moon beamed down at us in our unified love and emotion, but it really wasn’t like that.

I smeared lubricant on my spread pussy while he watched. The covers were kicked down more and I raised myself up just enough to dive mouth first on to his cock. I sucked him harder than he was already getting, his twitching cock perfectly translating his thoughts from brain to body to my eyes and now inside my mouth.

He was ready. The cock ring went on. He’d been mauling my tits and then moving my haunch around so he could fondle my lubed and increasingly wet pussy while he’d been ramming against the back of my throat. I took my fingers away from playing with his balls and perineum and took a moment to admire his captured hardness within the ring. It wasn’t quite stretchy enough to go round his balls as well, this one. Never mind. There’s a vibrating part – we’ll see what that can do.

I straddled him and in a glorious familiarity, I sheathed his cock smoothly with my body. The sounds that come from him as I envelop him completely are the most erotic in the world.

We fucked, and clawed, and bit and fucked, then fucked some more.

He wanted me on my front. That much was clear from his powerful flip of my body on to my tummy and pushing my head down into the pillow to steady himself and silence any of my complaints in one smooth move. Finding his place again, he carried on. Fucking and thrusting with his hard length until he at last, came with a long nailed grip on my ass and a leg trembling, guttural growl of spent pleasure deep inside me.

As we lay back on the bed together, gazing at but not really seeing the ceiling, the dizzy sensations gradually wore away. Enough so I reached for my bullet vibe. I needed to come. He let me, with a nod of approval to a silent request for permission.

There in his arms I used his spunk as lube and just about kept hold of the powerful bullet dancing over my erect clit. Using the hood skin to soften when it got too painful rather than arousing, moving it back when I needed that electric jolt connecting between clit and brain.

Please… please, please… please Daddy please, please let me come please….

He did.

I spilled over that edge, into the whiteness of orgasm and it erupted through me from hair tip to toes. But he still wasn’t done with me.

In the last quarter of orgasm he turned me again, even while I held the bullet to my clit to finish what had started. He found that freshly fucked and messy hole and shoved his unwaning hardness inside. Fucking me while I was still in the pleasure throes, he was quite clearly getting off on my war between pleasure and pain, the forced continuity of stimulation as my orgasm tried and failed to subside. It just carried on. He wasn’t done with me until he said so.

He came inside me again.

I cried.

It was hot.

I love how he fucks me, how he uses me. He cares enough to not care when it’s important.

Does that make sense? I don’t think it’s meant to.

masturbation-may-640

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