Yesterday we had the day to ourselves, a rare treat. There was a division of labour: he was responsible for providing food, I was responsible for choosing the dress code.
I told him to strip naked*, he cooked pork stir fry.
* he’s allowed to wear an apron to hygiene reasons
He arrived into the sitting room, presenting himself to me as a good boy, one who was willing to do whatever I wanted or needed done. He looked beautiful with his one bent knee and the shy look on his face.
I sent him away & told him I would follow him shortly. He sat, waiting patiently for me, knowing I would arrive but not knowing when.
He stood when I walked into the room and asked permission to undress me. He got more and more excited with each item of clothing.
He was so caring and attentive, so loving, and yet so needy. He needed me to be in charge, to be the person I am in our relationship.
At one point I rolled over & realised I was lying on my hand and forearm. I was pinned. I lay there for a moment, wondering if I would get anything out if being restrained. The answer was a swift, and catagorical NO! I untucked my hand, rolled us both over, pinned his hands over his head & felt altogether better.
We are as we should be. A good boy & his Miss.
So many things have happened this year already. As I mentioned already we no longer have the buzz of not seeing each other at times.
Somewhere in there I forgot exactly what this thing that we do actually is. I forgot the feeling I get from it. I forgot the joy I have in knowing I control his orgasm, especially over a prolonged period of time. I forgot how exciting it is to elicit that look on his face, that dip of one of his hips as the feeling of submissiveness rips through his body & he has difficulty standing up.
As instructed he cooked dinner naked but instead of an apron he had a cream ribbon tied around his cock and HANDS OFF! written on his lower abdomen.
He has been messing with himself. He has given me a variety of excuses why it has happened, all of which are bullshit. Most recently I walked into his office & found him furtive & watching porn.
Back to the dinner…
Being naked I was free to mess with him. No clothes, no grown up practical reasons to stop me. I wasn’t in the mood to be stopped. So I messed with him, over and over. All the way to the edge and stop, again and again. I ruined his orgasm, I left him wanting, needing more. He is so very mine when he bounces with the need to orgasm. It is in that moment that he is all mine, when all he wants in the world is my attention.
I sent him a text on my way home from work
“When I arrive I expect you to be showered, shaved and naked, except for an apron, and cooking my dinner”
“As you wish Miss”
I got my groove back.
I ruined his orgasm & left him to go and wash my hands.
I came back in his robe & sat on the side of the bed. He was lying exactly where I left him. I took his penis in my hand, soft from the ruined orgasm, and confirmed that he had ejaculated but not orgasmed.
I started masturbating him and he covered his face. I instructed him to uncover his face as I wanted to look at it. He moaned, groaned, wriggled, squirmed, bit the inside of his arm. As the intensity of the feelings rose I knew his orgasm was close.
In the moment, as his body reacted to his orgasm I was stunned by the beauty of it. I was overwhelmed by the power of the moment, by the magnitude of this gift I gave him, that was mine to give him.
Right there & then I felt the calm of owning him, of knowing exactly how to bring him pleasure, of knowing him.
There is nothing quite like seeing him wearing nothing but his underwear and a ball gag, standing, excited, waiting for me.
I told him to memorise a word from a book.
I told him to choose two rewards.
I told him to take off his clothes & stand at the wall.
I told him to pick a number between 30 & 45.
He chose 40.
I set the timer for 40 minutes & told him that if he could keep his word to himself until the timer went off I would decide on a reward for him.
I had him stand spreadeagled against the wall.
I hit him with the crop.
I spanked him.
I played with his hard cock.
I hit him with the crop and played with his hard cock at the same time.
I used my wand on his cock, balls and nipples.
I teased him.
I kissed him and refused to kiss him.
I asked him if he wanted to stop.
Each time he said no. He wanted to wait for his reward.
I pointed out that he may not like his reward.
He still chose to wait.
With 45 seconds to go I took his nipples between my finger and thumb nails and I pinched.
He lasted til the buzzer.
His word was per
I kissed him. Took him to bed. Held him. Loved him.
He was a good boy & he was rewarded.
Puppies love cuddles and walks and being rubbed and generally being loved. They are all their favourite things.
After a scene yesterday, our first for too long, I felt like that puppy. It was my favourite thing. I was giddy in that puppy way, wanting to know that he had a good time, not because it affected whether I had a good time of not but because I wanted it to be his favourite thing too. I wanted him to get to feel the way I was feeling.
His enjoyment of our sex does not influence whether I enjoy sex. I will probably die not knowing what he gets out of it, wondering how he can possibly get anything out of it but I am coming to accept the fact that he enjoys it. Accept that it is the best sex of his life. None of which actually influences that it is the best sex of my life.
But like a puppy I am made happy by him being happy.
he is happy.
his nails scour the skin on my back, giving all the feedback I need to feel, to know, to savour his contact with me. The feint marks create a roadmap of his desire to connect with me, more than he already is.
The fingers of his other hand seek & find the spot that makes my hips buck, my back arch, my breath catch – over and over.
His mouth sends sparks through me as he kisses the small of my back, gently nibbling my skin, again increasing the intensity of his proximity to me.
I cannot see him, cannot see that blissful look on his face or the excitement in his eyes but I can feel it as he uses himself to increase my pleasure.
I may die not know what pleasure he derives from giving me pleasure but in those moments I am enveloped in the beauty of his love for me, held safe in the knowledge that this special connection that we share ties us together in a way nothing else can.
I stole this from Deviant Wench
Only two rules: 1- You must answer yes or no. 2- You may not explain unless someone asks.
Have you ever:
Taken a picture naked? Yes
Made money illegally? No
Had a one night stand? Yes
Been in a fist fight? No
Slept with your best friend? No
Had sex in a public place? Yes
Ditched work to have sex? Yes
Slept with a member of the same sex? Yes
Seen someone die? Yes
Run from the police? No
Woke up somewhere and not remember how you got there? Yes
Worn your partners unmentionables? Yes
Fallen asleep at work? Yes
Used toys in the bedroom? Yes
Run a red light? Yes
Been fired? No
Been in a car accident? Yes
Pole danced or done a striptease? No
Loved someone you shouldn’t? No
Sang karaoke? No
Done something you told yourself you wouldn’t? Yes
Laughed so hard you peed your pants? Yes
Caught someone having sex? Yes
Kissed a perfect stranger? Yes
Shaved your partner? No
Given your private parts a nickname? No
Ever gone in public without underwear? Yes
Had sex on a roof top? No
Played chicken? No
Mooned/flashed someone? No
Slept naked? Yes
Blacked out from drinking? Yes
Felt like killing someone? Yes
Had sex more than 5 times in one day? Yes
Been with someone because they were in a band? No
Taken 10 shots of liquor in a day? Yes
Shot a gun? No
Gone outside naked? No
Now people. I know there are some of you out there. I know some of you are reading. It’s time to start commenting!