Hopeful me. Do I bring the rope back into the bedroom? I asked Wonderboy. It had been misplaced in my walk-in closet for a family celebration. Nothing like 2 meters of rope near your bed to fuel the conversation with the inlaws.
Wonderboy hesitated. It’s a bit scary.
I’ll bring it anyway. You don’t have to use it. But I like it when you do.
He hasn’t used it after the time I wrote here about. I don’t know what he’s so afraid of. I crave it. It’s so real.
Couple of day ago we were cuddling naked and he got really hard. I enjoyed the kissing and touching, but I wasn’t really feeling it. Then suddenly his advances withered, and I lost my appetite altogether. He asked me, if I wanted to fuck. I said I didn’t no, and I thought about it for a minute. It’s okay, if you don’t, he added. We don’t have to.
I laughed and said I know that. Somehow, still, it gave me strenght to realize that I really didn’t want to have sex. No, I actually don’t think I want to, I said. We hugged and kissed, and he caressed my back and butt. Then he suddenly said: But what if I don’t ask you? If I just fuck you from behind? If I just lube you up real good, turn you around and use you.
I started smiling. The magic words had come out. That sounded hot. Even if I didn’t really want sex in a sense that I felt I couldn’t orgasm, because I was so drained, I’d enjoy him doing that to me. Using me like that. I could cherish the thought later on. I said as much.
He lubed me and used me. He was hard and good, he held me by the hair and talked to me. He had no obligations, no pressure to perform, because I wasn’t going to come. He could do as he liked. He lowered himself n my back to grope my tits. I like that. I don’t know, why it didn’t really feel good once upon a time. Now it makes me crazy. His head was agains my right ear and his head was turned to look at me. He does it also because he knows I get off on his breath, I do. I like smelling him. It makes me want to have his baby. He was making more noises than usual. Maybe because I was silent he wanted to show me his pleasure, his appreciation.
After he came like a rocketship shooting into space, he licked me. Coming was extremely difficult, and I got annoyed by hearing our neigbours listen to the same fucking song all over again! But I have to forgive them, because the music usually seems to start, when we’re getting it on. Finally I had a decent orgasm to make things even. (Yeah, I think about sex like that. Weird, huh?)
He was happy, really, really happy. Sex only makes him this happy, when he doesn’t have to worry about me. It’s kind of… sad? It doesn’t really make me sad, though. Sex is communication and we should both be giving and take the other one into consideration, but I do get it. It’s his job to fulfill my fantasies, and as a top, he needs to be so in control and so perceptive it must take some pleasure out of it. I’m just trying to enjoy, to open up, but he has to plan and act and make sure I’m with him at the same time.
But also. He really, really gets off on me not getting off. He likes it, when he’s really forcing himself on me. It’s even more so, when I don’t actually want sex. This could be kind of creepy, if I didn’t completely get off on the same fantasy; except, the only problem is, I can only experience it as a sort of hypothetical scenario, because when I’m not turned on, it doesn’t turn me on. (That makes sense!) But he can experience it and enjoy it and get the fantasy in real life. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m jealous.
So, why does he have such hesitation about the rope?