My bottom is still pink from the heat of the bath. All I’m wearing is a short robe, jacket length, barely decent. In a playful mood, I want to show off a little.
He gestures: I’m to lay across his lap. He raises the hem of the robe and admires me, stroking and squeezing. “Would you like some spanks?”
“Yes, I think so.”
He begins, light and even, a gentle warm-up. My firm bottom jiggles pertly under his hand.
Round two feels pleasant, and I know I’m starting to get wet. (I used to wish I had an ‘on’ button. It seems we have now located it.)
Round three is a little heavier, a little sharper, but still adeptly even. Each spank is followed almost immediately by a small sharp tingle verging on pain, which launches an inner mini-monologue: I’m getting spanked + it feels good + ooh, that smarts a little + this is naughty + mmm. When I’ve had enough, I let him know and he stops immediately. The area around the crease of my thighs is pleasantly pink and warm. We disengage.
He announces, “I’m going to be a bit bossy.”
“OK,” I whisper, trying not to let the corners of my mouth turn up too much.
“On your elbows and knees.” I get into position. “Now, use your vibe.” We’ve talked about using the vibe during sex before but hadn’t yet tried it. For now, I’m to see to myself while he occupies himself with a condom.
When he’s ready, I’m ready too: slick, relaxed and welcoming. He slowly slides his length in then methodically reams me out, holding out as long as he can. I attend to my clit with the vibe, which takes much of my concentration, but I can feel that the vibe makes his in-and-out delicious. When he can hold out no longer, he finishes and collapses beside me. I continue with the vibe, he begins to work my g-spot with his fingers, and I come after just a few strokes.
I few minutes later I realize that I still want. I resume the vibe and the warmup. He joins in a few moments later and begins to slowly finger-fuck me.
Many orgasms are fickle, but this one seems to be manufactured with precise German engineering. The sensation begins well and improves steadily. When I get close, each cycle of the vibe takes me up, up, up, step after measured step. The workmanlike climb gives no hint of the luxuriant peak to follow: I’m surprised at the intensity, and the sounds I’m making feel somehow distant. Shyness hovers around the back of my mind but blessedly sticks to the shadows. A momentary wave of vulnerability and sunshower of tears, and I’m done.
Indeed, a most pleasant fuck.
[This post appeared in e[lust] 66.]