For the first time in a long time, I can’t think how to write.
Usually these things just flow from me unbidden…its why I have multiple journals going always and note-taking apps that sync on various devices.
But this? I have a major block here and its been 36 years in the making. See…good girls, proper ladies and respectable women don’t talk about their personal lives in the open. And they certainly don’t talk about intimacy, fetishes and…sex…like the way I want to talk about it here. I want to bear my soul, get out all the feelings and fantasies, explore whats going on in my head and in my bedroom.
So I will.
Bit by bit.
So here goes:
The first time he mentioned ‘spanking’, I was a little bit appalled.
“You want to do what? Um…seriously?” Poor guy, he was blushing so much but I just couldn’t think why he or anyone would want to spank my ass during sex and my words just came out (see, I told you that happens).
“Well, you like it when I pinch and roll your nipples and you like it when I’m rougher. You want that harder and more, right?”
Now it was my turn to blush. While I had had a few partners before, I never had sex like this. He was the first to go down on me, first to make me orgasm, first to really ‘know’ my body and what kinds of touch I craved and would cum for. Yes, I liked it when he was demanding with me and just that thought made me wet. I buried my face into my pillow and said, “Yes”.
“This is kinda like that. Its pain with pleasure, just more of the pleasure. I think you’ll like it and if you don’t, I’ll never do it again. I just want you to be happy”.
Of course I said yes to him. Anyone who knew me, who could take me to that edge of bliss, dangle me from the precipice and carry me back down again before launching me into the waves, could do whatever they wanted. I knew that about myself, even then. He knew me better than I did in that way and I wanted to know more of myself.
It was a shock, that first blow. It had been a while since we talked about it and even longer since he had been behind me. Reunion sex can be so very awkward but oh, so hot. The initial frantic searching of mouths, hands seeking warm, familiar flesh, the press of bodies from longing followed by the recognition of nakedness with someone slightly unfamiliar, someone who has changed, who hasn’t seen you quite like…this. And then the realization that they are nearly the same but different too and that makes it all the more tantalizing, the discovery of who they are now and the memory of what makes them pant.
He remembered the way my nipples are so sensitive that I could nearly cum from the play of his tongue over them. I remembered the way he would draw a sharp breath and let it hiss out as I ran first a fingernail and then my tongue pointedly under his cock to his balls. The sweet salty taste of him, that perfect pearl from his rosy slit. He made me arch against him, searching first for his hand and then pressing him lower so he could inhale me the way I had him, to feel his mouth against my lips, his tongue finding that oh so singular place…my path to oblivion.
When he pressed me over to my hands and knees, I was ready for him. Oh God, I was so ready to feel him sliding inside of me, his hard length pushing exquisitely slowly into my clenching sex the way I had missed and craved…and then it wasn’t like that at all. His hand on my ass curled my toes, my breath caught in my throat and my whole being clenched and released in that moment. I could feel the soothing caress of his hand over the spot, his cock pressing at my now flooded folds and I did the only thing that was right for me.
“More, please. Oh please, do that again” And thrust myself back against him seeking and finding such pleasure in that pain that I never would have imagined.