I want to post this small treat, because I know you guys are having your hearts broken as well, because of what’s happening to us. It’s not all tears, even now. It never is.
After the miscarriage, for some unfathomable reason, I’ve been horny as hell. Wonderboy’s been really careful and understanding… but one night he just turned me on my tummy and started to fuck me. We had been kissing and I’d made my womanly needs known somewhere in there, so it was not like there hadn’t been communication. There had, just without words.
(And here’s where I differ from the mighty Cliff Pervocracy in my views on communicating consent, desire and need. I agree on the whole that communication is key, and I sometimes struggle to communicate what I really want right now, but the playing ground is set for us in this partnership. I don’t need to establish all of that every time. It’s a great post by the way, and you should definately read it.)
There wasn’t much of foreplay as I recall. There was just a lot of strangling and pushing his hand on my face. I love it more than anything, but I’ve been mortified to accept, how important it really is to me, because it seems so silly. I’m happy Wonderboy is not easily fooled, when it comes to my reactions, so he knows, how it affects me. And he used just that knowledge to tip me to the sweet sub space I long for.
It was perfect.
Something’s changed, because of the hormones or because I’m not taking them anymore, but I’m wet and slimy as something coming out of the sea. My body is responsive once again. He gruntles You’re so tight a lot these days. And I sigh out of happiness and fulfilment, because I feel right again.
It’s hard for me to have an orgasm, while he’s on my back. I’m so tight it usually hurts too much, and anatomically I think, it’s not the best position for me. He wasn’t doing much of anything really, not hitting me or hurting me. But he did force me to rise a bit to kiss him, and he bit my lips and we kissed, and he fucked me hard all the while we were doing it.
And then he put his hand on my head. It was weaving through the hair and I expected him to tug my hair, because that’s what he mostly does. But he didn’t. He found my neck and pushed me to the mattress. It was quick. It came unannounced. I didn’t need anything more. He was guiding me through. He was holding me and he was forcing me. He had me.
Suddenly his cock felt too big, my pussy felt too tight, so tight around it. I came. I pulsed and gulped the air my mouth against the mattress. He kept fucking me, but came shortly after. I have no clear recollection of how. But I came with him again. How could I not? He was pulsing inside me, filling me, grabbing me with all his strenght, raising us both from the bed to be even closer.
Did you come twice? he asked me after, when we were lying there naked and breathless.
Yeah, I answered and kissed his hairy chest and his face, what I could reach of it.
He smiled. I knew what he was thinking. Just like old times. Just like it used to be. I came from him fucking me and dominating me. It just makes him so happy to fulfil me.
He always asks, even when I don’t write it in here, Did you have a nice time? Sometimes he asks twice, because he forgets that I already said yes. He didn’t fail to ask this time, either. Having two orgasms means nothing. He needs to know, how I feel about what happened. (Just as the awesome Clarisse Thorn says: orgasm is not consent.)
I feel perfect so I say so and ask him in return.
Hit the shower? he asks.
In a minute, I say and bear hug him.
I don’t want to let go just yet. He laughs a little. It’s no small treat in the midst of what we’re going through. To be happy like this and to stay with it.