I’m really horny until he comes from the balcony with cigarette ashes on his fingers. His mouth tastes foul. It’s only whisky and tobacco, I tell myself, and the thought makes me angry at him. The smell is overpowering my desire. Why couldn’t he just have denied himself the cigarette?
I want to fuck him but I want nothing to do with his mouth. I try to avoid it as best I can. It doesn’t work. Kissing as an essential part of our sex. I have to concentrate really hard to try not to be wigged out by the smell and taste of his mouth. It’s usually the best thing. I want to smell him, when he fucks me. He loweres himself and turns his head so that his breath would hit myself. It makes me come. And now I can hardly stand the stench.
I can’t even think about going down on him. I don’t want to. It’s like I have a natural resistance for it. Is this what some women feel all the time? I feel bad about it, but I won’t even offer the possibility him, when the time comes. And the time comes, because I didn’t come, when he fucked me. Push after push I start to feel the nausea rising like a tidal wave. I feel like I’m going to puke, but then it fades, just to build up again when the next push hits my cervix. It’s pretty easy to guess, that getting really nauseaus isn’t the best fo ways to reach an orgasm.
Finally he got all emotional and unsure. Why couldn’t he make me come? Do I even like anything he does? Can he even please me?
I said that it hurt a bit too much, that I was nauseaus and that he changed positions too eagerly, just when I was getting to like it.
– Why did you change from the first position? I ask. I was on top and about to come, when he flipped me over.
– It just didn’t feel good anymore.
We’ve been here before. It makes a certain weight slump into my stomach. I disliked the rabbit style pow pow pow fucking he changed to, and he disliked the more sensual grinding slow fucking I loved. The best orgasms I get from the slow sensual fuck. I do come from the rabbit fucking too, but it’s not the same and it’s usually also pretty hard. And it hurts.
– Yeah, well, it felt the best for me, I say, very disappointed and also… a little angry. How dare he like something I don’t and rip me of my pleasure? My righteous fire burns until he answers.
– It’s a shame our needs didn’t meet today. So cute of him to put it like that. That’s all it is, though. Some days it works. Some days it doesn’t.
He offers to go down on me and I accept without hesitation. I also enjoy it maybe more than ever. He hasn’t licked me in three weeks, all the time I’ve thought I might be pregnant. Somehow this act holds a significance to me. I possibly hope for him to exclaim how different I taste. But I know, how different I taste. I’ve tasted it, just to be sure, though. The texture and smell have slightly changed from the first very metallic to this odd more odorless slick that somehow made me shiwer from nausea. (There it is again!)
At any rate, I really want him to go down on me and I thoroughly enjoy it.
…And I don’t particularly like oral sex! I don’t even fantasize that much, when he works me. It’s just the sensations that are so much more piercing than usual. My breasts are huge, but they are also incredibly sensitive. I ask, if he could reach for them while he licks me. I hesitate to ask as usual. I guess once or twice he’s sighed, when I asked, because he needs to be in a bit of an awkward position to do it. I come a lot quicker if he plays with my breasts and anyway, I’ve never ever sighed or shown my discomfort, when I’m going down on him. I can’t forget that he has.
I come like there’s no tomorrow even though he seems to keep his distance to my pussy and not only to tease me. After he comes back up to kiss me. Funny enough, my own juices taste okay to me and it’s easier to kiss him. A while goes before I can muster up an offer.
You could fuck me?
I have to persuade him, because by now he’s sure I hate him and don’t lust after him and enjoy nothing he does (hello – I just came!). The not wanting to kiss thing is a pretty big deal, it seems. Makes him feel unconnected to me. Lost.
But then he fucks me. He lubes my huge breasts (Have I mentioned how huge they are?) and hits them while fucking me. He loses enthusiasm, so I immediately ask what’s wrong, and he says he doesn’t know what he wants. I encourage him to do whatever he wants. That I’d like if he did. So he confesses that he might want to fuck me from behind.
He does and we both come like there is no tomorrow.
But today he ate some cheese. Some odd, rare, fine cheese. I could barely lie next to him, let alone kiss him. When he noticed this, he started teasing me by blowing air on my face. Yuck!
I haven’t done another test yet. But… If this is what’s it’s gonna be like for nine months, will we even have sex more than once a month? I’ll get angry for anything, he’ll smell bad, if he eats or drinks anything, and I’ll get nauseaus if he fucks me hard. Sounds like an adventure!