jump to navigation

Day three August 16, 2010

Posted by Leah in Boyfriend, D/s, Fellatio, Urine.
add a comment

We shower together in the morning. I drink the water that falls from his prick.

Day two August 16, 2010

Posted by Leah in Boyfriend, Buggery, D/s, Spanking.

A birthday spanking is traditional. I am now more than a quarter of a century old.

He decides he will spank me fourteen times on this trip, once for each lover I have taken in the city. Each spanking will be composed of twenty-five hard hits, which are defined as the ones that he feels, and as many small hits as pleases him. I must ask fourteen times for my spankings.

I begin at once.

He has me undress. I am naked while he remains clothed. He sits me on his lap. His feet hook around mine and force my legs apart. He wets his hand in the waters of my cunt and spanks my clit and pussy. I screw my eyes closed and wince at the initial blows. After that, he takes his time. He plays with my lips and transfers the arousal to my breasts. I ease into the touch of his fingers and rub myself against the hand. When they arrive, the slaps take me by surprise. They are an overpowering loudness in the room. Tears sting my eyes before we reach the halfway point. I hear the soft hum of the refrigerator and concentrate on that sound. I count to thirty-six, but his tolling is the one that matters. His fingers pull and pinch and twist the swollen lips of my pussy. He masturbates me to orgasm after the spanking and has me lick up what I have sprayed.

At night, I ask him for two more spankings. He takes the switch to the bottoms of my feet. He pulls me over his thighs and reddens my ass with his bare hand. I kiss the heel of his hand and his fingers when he finishes. I run my tongue over his palm. Anal sex after a spanking is my favorite.

Day one August 16, 2010

Posted by Leah in Bondage, Boyfriend, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking.
add a comment

He arrives at my door in the morning. As soon as he is inside, he has me against the wall. The kisses have a ferocity born of hunger and yearning. When there is a moment to breathe, I slide down the wall and fall to my knees. I press my lips to his cock, breathing on the head through the pores in the denim. The flesh stirs against my open mouth. I feel it becoming rigid. If it were up to me, the clothes would come off now. He would mount me from behind. We would fuck on the hard kitchen floor, heedless of the roommate who is still asleep in her bedroom. I would scream my orgasms into the early hour and shake the foundations of the building down.

It is not up to me. He hauls me to my feet.

We spend the day touching and talking. We are tourists at the museum, holding hands. We share an umbrella as we stroll through Regent’s Park. We sit at the cafĂ© and catch up. My legs are propped over his while we talk of friends and work and home. His hand smooths over my thigh under the table at the pub. Over dessert, he tells me about his new lover. She is inexperienced. He is only the third man who has been inside her cunt. My foot brushes his as he speaks.

At night, the roommate crashes with her fiancé to give us a measure of space and privacy. There are no obvious tie points in my bedroom. The boyfriend improvises. The ropes slip under the mattress. They wrap my legs and my breasts. He binds me tight and takes me as he pleases. His tongue is intimate between my legs for a full hour before he undresses. He bites my clit. The vibrator presses into me as I am eaten. I beg him for his penis. He fucks my face so that I taste him in my throat. He fucks my cunt, which aches for his cock. Semen spills into me and spills out again. The orgasms on my side belong to him already. He takes that which is his.

We are staying in my apartment. We are sleeping in his bed.