17 December 2008

Insomniatic meandering

I can't sleep. This is not new, but tonight add that I am aroused: wet, swollen, throbbingly aroused and he is sleeping deeply. Worn down tired, breathing heavily, wrapped tightly around me, but not in this world. He rolls away, reaching out in his sleep to place his hand on me. I turn onto my back. Now it's worse, my legs fall open and I NEED to be touched. I've never discussed this with him, what he would feel, what he would say if he awoke and I was in the throes of passion without him. No matter, I don't want to disturb his sleep, yet right now, I am disturbed.

I've tried this before, making myself come with no outward signs. I must be VERY still, I must be VERY quiet, keep my breathing steady, make and keep my clit hard and sensitive. I must be in two places at once.
This is actually very fun.

We are in New York City, an apartment I have visited, but never played in. The outside wall overlooking Tin Pan Alley is entirely glss, and he has a plan. Cuffs and a spreader bar on my ankles are no surprise; the open curtains, and the hook he has installed in the ceiling are. He ties my palms together at the wrist, my fingers can just twine around the rope, pulled up and hung from the hook. I am tall, praying to the ceiling, legs wide, fully naked. If I sway forward just an inch, my nipples brush the cold glass hardening immediately. The room is warm, and I wonder at the extreme in sensation from fron
t to back. He is gone for a moment, gathering toys and ideas, I assume. I do not expect the flogger, soft and wiggly on the small of my back, traveling up my spine, through my hair, gone for a split second, then SMACK on my ass. Tricky he is, and I love him.

This is working out well. Breathe carefully, naturally, he hasn't moved, but he is near. I can smell his hair, listen to his breath, bring him more fully into the new world I have built in my head while my middle finger finds its way between my legs to the wetness, the building swell...my GOD, I'm wet. A little goes a long way, my finger slips over, across, flicking. Perfect.


Ooh, another surprise! After a few more cushy smacks with the flogger, it is replaced by his hand, without missing a beat. His expert hand hits the roundest part of my ass, smarting, causing me to push against the glass--too cold. I'm beginning to fully understand the genius of the position he has contrived. Again, cold front, warm back, hot and stinging rump. And I know he's just getting started. I am getting wet, more than wet; it's starting to move out of my lips, into the hollow of my thigh. What on earth will he do when he notices?
He noticed. He noticed when his hand moved down to hit the tenderness, just at the fold above my legs. He noticed, and he let me know it.
I've been silent, overwhelmed at the novelty and quickness of the surprises. Now, HE moans. Just a small, quiet cozy noise he makes when he sees something that makes him happy - and hard.

He shifts in his sleep. Have I been too lax? My finger is busy, my clit is so slick it can't become jaded to this repetitive circling. I'm building a need to be filled. I squeeze inside, try to fool myself, push myself. But don't move.

What's he doing? Moving away? Undressin
g? I don't know. He wants me to wait, but, as usual, he moves faster than he'd like. My hips tilt back as I try to find him with my ass. "Is that what you offer?" He asks. Holy shit, just do it, just do SOMETHING, and take me hard. That's what I'm thinking, in both worlds. In this one, I nod. And then his cock is on me, pushing, soft skin, hard core, cool against the red burning from his spanking. I have done nothing wrong, and that is not the point. Each sensation that comes from HIS hand is heaven. He wets the head of his cock between my legs, teasing the lips open, teasing my clit, teasing my pussy, but no. That is not what I offered, that is not where he'll go.
He pushes in slowly, just the head in my ass, screamingly open and then yielding to him, all of him, slow, strong, hot, smooth. He fucks my ass slowly.

I'm going to come, seriously. Can I be still? I'm afraid I'll buck, and that thought eases the approaching orgasm. I've definitely set a high goal here.

Without withdrawing, he reaches high, over my back, the heat of his chest against me. One hand on my hip, stroking up
to my cold nipple, tweaking it. I squeak. This is the inventive, attentive, and fucking hot man I know.

The one sleeping peacefully next to me, while I put him through mental paces, pushing and rolling across my clit the whole time.

He unhooks my hands, still tied in prayer, an
d pushes my arms down in front of me. My hands have fallen asleep, and begin to tingle now. I can barely keep up with the different sensations: one cold nipple, one rolled between his fingers, cock in my ass, tingling hands, and now...he presses something between my wrists, nestling it securely between my palms and guides my hands up until I feel the warmed smooth curving head of this:

Yes! It isn't easy, navigating by elbow bend, pushing it up and in, popping that big head in a space made small. He's taking up so much room down there!

Holy shit, I'm going to come, I'm making a hell of a wet spot, and I don't want to leave this world. Oh, honey, don't turn this way, I will have to wake you up.

I get it in, no lube needed, the displaced wetness running down my leg. He is stroking slowly, stopping to allow entrance for each rib on the dildo. Now we've done it, I'm full. It hurts a bit, just for a moment, and now I don't care. He has his hands on my hips, fingertips digging in to hold my pelvis tighter, pull me against him. I am bent double, head up for balance, hardly breathing. I push it inside in rhythm with him, in and out together. Then we switch, as I pull, he pushes. He is reaching to my heart, my breath is coming harder, his cock swelling. The thin skin between holes is stretched and pushed. Goodness. I keep up the strokes, but he has stopped. I don't care. I must fuck myself with this thing. Now I wonder if he can feel the ribs as well as they pop along, almost vibrating me inside. He moans again, still, and I KNOW he can feel it. He seems to have lost his mind, we have no rhythm, it's all pushing, pulling, filling, needing, and his is throbbing. I feel his balls pull tight away from me, the warm promise of our orgasms building in me, like an itch and a rub and a tingle all at once. And he is pushing, panting, groans...

I am coming, it's built up so far. I'm still, breathing slow, pulling it all inside, keeping it all for ME. My orgasm pops and swells and spreads down my legs, takes my breath away, fills like white heat behind my closed eyes and smile. He moves. I do not. In the other world, he lays me down and kisses me. Here, I am sleeping.

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