As Master T got in bed and reached for my night collar, I leaned forward so he could fastened it around my neck. Instead of lying back on my pillow, I rested my head in the crook of his neck, snuggling closer. I just wanted to be close to him. He ran his fingers up and down my back, sometimes scratching, which made me moan softly. His hand touched the top rounding of my bottom and he dug his nails right into the skin. It hurt but it was also so good. I moaned again. Master T tried to reach lower. I arched my back and felt his finger pressing against my asshole. Once again, I moaned.
“Shall I give your cunt some attention?”
A moan, which sounded like approval, escaped me. He pulled his arm from under me, while I removed one of my pillows and then rested one arm above my head. Master T pinned my arm under his hand while his other hand cupped my cunt. Quickly two fingers entered me. The thought crossed my mind that I might yet again not be able to climax, but I quickly pushed it away, not wanting to ruin anything with conscious thoughts.
His expert fingers found the spot on the front wall of my vagina. The moment he pulled out and touched my clitoris my orgasm stormed in, like a celebrity running down the aisle to receive an Oscar. He noticed and said: “Come, darling, just come.”
That was enough to push me over the edge. Instantly everything was wet. I squirted.
His fingers pushed inside me again and then back to my clitoris, soon drawing a second orgasm from me. By this time I was still under the duvet cover, but I wanted the restriction off me, so kicked it to the side. I wanted him to be able to see me, to see my body in the light of the television and to see what he was doing to me. In all of this I noticed that he was now pinning both my wrists under his left hand, and I had no idea how my other hand got there. Once the duvet cover was off, he bent forward and took one of my nipples between his teeth, nibbling on it and running his teeth over it just hard enough for it to be slightly painful. All the time his fingers danced across my clitoris or pushed inside me. In an almost constant stream I was asking for permission to climax and squirting.
Leaning hard on my wrists, Master T pounded my pussy, pushing almost his entire hand inside me. Then he pulled out and slapped my cunt. One. Two. Three slaps before he continued to almost-fist me. More slaps followed. I wanted my pussy spanked. I imaged it swollen and bruised and sore and the thought made me warm inside.
It didn’t get to that though.
Because of having no sex for months, my pussy started to feel tender. I told Master T this after yet another orgasm and he decided it was enough. It was time to stop. I lay in his arms afterwards and asked: “What about you?”
“No,” he said, “we will get to that when some things are functioning better than they are now.”
“You know it’s no big deal to me.”
“I know. It will get better.”
Being in constant pain, a searing pain in his stump, like someone is constantly burning him with a hot rod on the outside and it feels like the bone is trying to push through the skin from the inside, is not conducive to any sexy feelings. I know he doesn’t mind giving me multiple orgasms and not having any himself. I want to feel him in me, really I want, but what I want more is for him to enjoy too. I believe it will get better. His leg will get better, they will fix the pain he is having and he will be in the mood for a proper fucking again. I know he will.
And in the meantime?
I will take nights like this, when the stars align and everything is right to just make something sexy happen. It can’t be forced or we might get to resent the very thing we like so much.
Written on 20.08.2017
© Rebel’s Notes
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