Saturday night looked like it was going to be like any other Saturday night: good sex, cuddles, then watching a movie together before bed. I'd pretty much decided in my head that his agreement to use a strap-on together the previous weekend had just been the vodka talking. Every other time we'd talked about it, his response had been maybe someday, but not ready yet. He sometimes says he wants things he's not ready for when he's tipsy, so how was I to know this was any different?
We went out to dinner at a fantastic little creole place near my apartment. The food was delicious, the atmosphere was old-school N'Awlins (New Orleans, for those of you who haven't visited), and the whole meal was very romantic. (Except the gator balls. Those were just funny. And tasty. And made of tail meat, not testicles, cause they're just meatballs. But anyway...)
So I thought nothing of it when he asked how my back was doing over the Jambalaya. Until he followed up with "So you're up to using the strap-on tonight?"
Um, HELL YES?!
I'd only been fantasizing about this for months. I'd even ordered a (very) cheap harness, so I could get used to the way it felt and moved, and practiced a bit. If I ever got the chance, I didn't want to ruin it by not knowing what the hell I was doing.
When we got back to the apartment, we spent longer than usual going through my toy drawer, picking out an array of things to play with. We turned down the lights, and turned on some music.
It started with a deliciously long stretch of tender cuddling, kissing, and increasingly heated caresses. I love the closeness, but we rarely have the patience for that kind of long, drawn-out tenderness. We slowly wended our way up through some very hot oral, and then he demanded his fun: giving me as many orgasms and drawing out as many screams of pleasure as he could with a wide range of toys. When he couldn't resist the temptation any longer, he pushed the toys aside and reached for me.
I may have attacked him. A little.
We wandered to the shower, hand in hand. Thank goodness the harness was cheap; nylon straps are fine in the water. With a little help, we got me put together. More cuddling, this time with mutual fondling of dicks. It was very sexy, but also very surreal. I hadn't thought this night would come. (and a sparkly pink penis in a bright blue harness didn't help the surrealistic factor)
We cleaned up, then I began warming him up, gently. The Liquid Silk lubricant that burns me so badly is wonderful for him, and it was able to survive the falling water. After fingers, a plug, and endless amounts of lube, he let me slowly slide in. A long pause, as he got used to the fullness and I gently caressed him, whispering sweet nothings over his shoulder.
I discovered the hard way that a hard bullet in the harness pocket, grinding against the pelvis, is rather painful even through the padding. It hit my clit right, but it was in the way. I slowly pulled out, popped out the bullet, and tightened the water-loosened straps. Then we tried again.
It was incredible, for both of us. His ability to orgasm multiple times without ejaculating held him in good stead, allowing him to orgasm over and over before we finished. I went slowly, gently; he begged for harder, faster.
It was some of the most emotional sex we ever had. My god, the trust. When we were done, I was almost to emotional to speak, except to tell him I loved him over and over. I felt like a delicate, spun-glass statue... filled with plastique. Afterward, we had some of the most loving, intense sex we've ever had. Days later, I am still dazed and reeling from the wonder of it all. And I'm coming to realize that it's changed my life forever. For the better. We're stronger and closer for it. And I'm stronger, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment