A first — for Purrrrvert

Update: My song of love for both the Big Bad Cat and anal sex was Fleshbotted by the lovely Madeline. You’re such a love, Mads. Thank you!

It was the first time it’s ever happened to me, did you know that?

Anal sex I have had by the bucketload. (Although the imagery doesn’t work, the quantities do, trust me.) Until I met you, it was always accompanied by a certain amount of butt-clenching pain, and agony, prior to the experience dissolving into the fabulous sensation of having my ass ploughed.

I’ve had big cocks and small cocks in my ass. Small as in length — every woman knows that size only matters when you speak of girth, not length, but go tell that to a man. They never listen. You might listen, since you are who you are — and I love you immensely for that alone — but you don’t need to hear it, because you have no such insecurity. I’ve had men who knew what they were doing, and men who didn’t — although technically, anything that happened with the latter group cannot be termed anal sex, since as soon as I realised that they were clueless, I threw them off me and we moved on.

I’ve enjoyed anal sex — usually eventually, rather than the whole way through — in reality. In fantasy, it has sent me over the edge into the rainbow abyss of fabulous multiple orgasmic delight many a time.

But this was the first time that I came.

How you managed to hit my g-spot through the membrane that separates it from my anal passage; how you took the time to find the exact correct angle to which you needed to apply pressure; how you made me come over and over before that so that I was poised ready for another; how you carefully and diligently fucked me until i literally burst with joy, flooding the sheets and shaking as though I’d had a TENS unit applied to my clit (we’ll do that next time, darling 8-)); how you knew what and how to do what you did to me… I don’t know how you knew, or how you always know.

You know just how to touch me — whether with a gentle hand or an evil, bendy cane. You know the words to say. You know the songs to sing. You know how to surprise and delight me with  unexpected purple rain. You have a wealth of knowledge that many would envy, and which is the admiration of all who witness it.

I’m so lucky to have you in my life. So very blessed. Thank you, my darling.

Welcome home.

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Transatlantic telepathy

He’s gone away, on holiday.

Gone to learn new rope tricks, and then come home and try them all out on me.

Gone to buy me something very personal and special that we chose together before he left. (He plans things, none of the last-minute rush for him.)

Gone to rest and relax from all the crazy of late.

And I? I wish him the most wonderful, relaxing, enjoyable time away. I genuinely hope he and Sub1 have a great time.

He promised he would be in touch as soon as he landed, and he was, in his way. I already knew he was safe, i could feel it. The phone call confirmed it.

Right now, the warm and fuzzy around my heart means I know he’s having fun. This both  calms and delights me concurrently.

******************

I slept earlier, and an image of him straddling me, floated before my eyes.

“Again?” I’d asked him, as he secured my wrists to each side of the bed. “That’s the third time in as many hours that you’ve wanted to fuck me.”

He said nothing, merely sniggering in his cattish way, and smirking at me out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not complaining,” I reassured him.

“I should hope not. Now, instead of all that talking, how about 25 words for me?”

“Holy shit. Now? Goddamn rotten, evil, mean feline.”

“Why, thank you, my dear.”

While considering the 25 words, I realised that he had upended the bottle of lube and was about to trickle it on me.

“No! It’s cold, it’ll be cold!” I squealed.

My protests counted for nothing, as he dribbled the lube over the girls (as he likes to refer to the expansive chest area with which I have been blessed). He then bent to kiss me, before starting to fuck the girls hard and fast.

His legs straddled me, squeezing me between his thighs. If ever there were an occasion where I felt owned, and restrained, contained and sublimated — this was it.

His cock glided smoothly between my breasts, hitting me on the chin every so often, as he reached forward to tug at my hair, never losing eye contact with me for a second.

It’s part of that natural connection we have — i can look in his eyes and read what he’s about to say, and I’ve not been wrong yet.

Suddenly he tensed. And came. All over my face and hair, on my lips, cheeks and eyelids.

And then bent to kiss me.

*******************

It was this image with which I awoke.

Rawrrrrrrr.

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