Chasing Me Chasing You

An attempt to balance children, work, and my husband without losing my submission and myself.

Whose really getting the vacation?

Today after work the kids and I are heading to the beach house my parents are renting. It’s just for the weekend. They have been their for the last week sending me torturous pictures of them sitting in lawn chairs with mixed drinks while I’m at work. I am hoping to get through one smut book a few cocktails while my dad chases the kids around.

Sir is staying home with the dog to try and get work done.  It’s terrible, but I’m a little jealous. No kids screaming in your ear at 5:30am. No house full of people to pepper you with questions about life, job, house, etc. And no 3-hour drive with the kids complaining that we aren’t there yet. Why did I agree to this again?

All whining aside it should be a nice time. And considering my Californian sex vacation in October, I can’t really begrudge Sir this break. I’m just trying not to think about work that I should be doing. It will all be here when I get home, so I’ll just focus on my book and drink instead.

I’m not sure about the quality of the internet connection though. So I may be M.I.A. until Monday. I am trying to sort out a Sinful Sunday post though, so we’ll see. And hopefully I’ll at least be able to post lovely pictures of me relaxing on twitter.

Is it just me?

Does anyone, or everyone, else also have a constant fear of what other people think about them? And I’m not even being specific to kink, just what other people think about you generally. When someone sneers at your skirt do you question your clothing choice? By contrast, does a compliment stay with you?

I am not sure if it was the way I was raised or when. My mother always made a big deal about how I ‘presented’ myself as that also, somehow, reflected on her as a parent. Clothes were considered, as well as actions, for how our small community might judge her. I don’t want to make generalities about it like it’s a generational thing. I am just always worried about Sir, my boss, even a random person on the street thinks about me. The way I dress, the things I say, my entire belief structure. Their opinions and judgments weight on me and my personal view of myself.

I guess if it were just something in the back of my mind that I used for motivation it would be one thing. But, because I am me, I let them eat at me. My boss’s flippant response plays on repeat in my head until I am certain she hates me. And the answer may not have even been meant in a negative or dismissive way, that’s just how my brain took it. Comments or expressions made are taken in their most negative interpretation. Probably because of my own poor self-esteem more than the person’s actual view.

Similarly, a definitive poor opinion of me lingers far longer than it should. My father-in-law’s second wife has decided that Sir and I are evil. She doesn’t understand that we just want closure with his dad’s estate so we can move on from his passing. She’s decided we are,…well, I don’t know exactly, but it’s not good. And I was upset after her passive-aggressive text comments. But for the life of me, I cannot understand why. This woman is so self-righteous and judgmental that Sir and I could hardly make it through a meal with her. What do I care if she thinks we are the spawn of Satan?

I was talking to the twitter boyfriend and he was explaining that his wife refers to all his kinky twitter contacts as his, ‘weird ass friends’. I don’t know this woman. I’ve never met her and she lives on the opposite side of the world. Hell, the comment wasn’t even about me specifically. But I was hurt by the idea that this woman didn’t like me.

Why do I care? What does it matter if people don’t always like me? I’m not running for office. Most of the time these people have very little, if anything, to do with my daily life. So why do I let them affect it in such a direct way? And why can’t I let a positive comment sway my mood as easily and for the same amount of time?

It would be easy to say that I should just care about what Sir thinks and everyone else can just go to hell. I’m not even going to argue to that statement’s accuracy. It’s just that even if that’s what I should do, that doesn’t mean that my brain will follow directions. Just curious to see if anyone else fights with their head in a similar manner. I’m just frustrated with myself today.

Feel the Burn

This week’s topic for Wicked Wednesday really threw me as I don’t have any sexy connections to the sun or sunburn. I have always had fair skin. My hair was much closer to red when I was young and my matching pale skin tone didn’t darken with age like my hair did. Therefore, I burn at the drop of a hat. Even before I had tattoos I would have have to lather on sunscreen just to sit outside for twenty minutes.

One summer, I think Sir and I were engaged, we stayed at a beach house with my extended family for a week. It was nothing of what I would call a romantic vacation. There were always people around. Sir and I were horny bunnies, right out of college. I am pretty sure we tried to fuck in the back of my parent’s SUV at one point; we were that desperate.

Since we couldn’t find much time to be alone I (rather stupidly) spent one afternoon laying on a raft with a book. I had layered on sunscreen over my tattoos (less back then) and made sure to get my cleavage and face. However, several hours in a raft on the reflecting lake will surely show you the places you missed.

I, sadly, had completely missed my legs from the knees down. My feet had rested in the water and remained white. My shins, however, turned a remarkable shade of maroon. To this day, even with his trusty cane, Sir has not been able to replicate such a color. And trust me, it’s a personal goal of his that he attempts at every opportunity.

By the next morning I could barely walk. I felt freezing cold and very nauseous. My nurse aunt diagnosed me with probable sun poisoning. I had to stay inside, drink lots of water, and if my temperature spiked too high we were going to the ER.

So, while ever took their cocktails and salty snacks down to the water, I huddled under a blanket and struggled to keep a banana down. Alochol was out of the question as I tried to focus on anything other than the pain. Sir stayed with me, like the gentleman he is. I think he played a computer game and tried not to enjoy his drink too much while I napped.

I was just sad that we finally got time alone and I was in too poor of a state to do anything about it. The sun poisoning put me out of any type of sexy commission for nearly two weeks as I got quite sick and my legs peeled and bled. Hardly much of a turn on, even by our current kind standards.

My relationship with the sun have never fully recovered.

See if anyone else fairs better in their relationships with sunburn by clicking below.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

The Gift of a Key

This is the next installment to the Beth and Graham story. If you want to catch up you can link to Part IPart II, or Part III here.

~

“That was excellent salmon Graham, thanks for your help with dinner.” I cleared the plates quickly and returned to the table. Graham and I had relaxed most of the afternoon and enjoyed our trip to the store. His recipe was amazing and I know Sir was impressed. Sir had been working since his shower, so I was hoping he was going to take the evening off. I was surprised when he started to walk down the hall again to his office, until he called for Graham to follow him. I walked down the hallway behind them, not wanting to miss an instruction from Sir.

“Cunt, come kneel next to the desk. I need to talk to Graham for a moment.” I moved quickly as Sir gestured to Graham to have a set across the desk. In his office chair he seemed even larger and more in command than normal. Kneeling at his side I’m sure to Graham he looked like a king with his sex slave looking down on a lowly serf.

“How have you enjoyed your visit so far?”

“Yes, Sir. It has been lovely. Thank you for allowing me to visit.”

“I know you and Beth have been close on Twitter for along time. Does our D/s reality still appeal to you?”

“It does appeal to me greatly. But my wife doesn’t feel the same. And although she gave me permission to visit a friend and experience a scene with male dominant, I don’t think she would ever be comfortable with me having a regular female top. But I love her more than I need this, so our BDSM dynamic will have to be limited it to what she is comfortable with.”

“So you seem to have resigned yourself.”

“I wouldn’t say resigned. I certainly hope to have more experiences like this. I’m so grateful to her. I wouldn’t have felt right coming here at all without her blessing.”

“Good. You did well this morning, but I wanted to make you were comfortable being here before I gave you this.” Sir handed Graham an envelope. He pulled out a short printed letter. After he read it, he and Sir kept talking, but he handed it to me to read while they spoke.

~

Sir, Please give this to Graham should you deem it appropriate.

Graham,

This letter is to clarify to you that I trust you. And after several conversations with Beth’s Sir I trust him too. You have my permission to enjoy this weekend. You’re not cheating. You’re not being unfaithful to me. This is an experience I don’t know that you will get a chance to repeat. And Sir assures me that he will make sure you earn everything that he decides to give you.

Please remember that I love you. Your service to me will be through Sir. I expect you to make the most of this visit. See you soon.

Hannah

~

Short and to the point, but knowing Graham, it was necessary for him. I was surprised he had done so well with everything that had happen over the last few days. I knew that some of our activities would eat at him if he didn’t have those clearly expressed words of permission.

But Graham didn’t know about the letter that had arrived a few days before he arrived from Hannah written for Sir. I hadn’t read it. Sir didn’t offer and I didn’t ask. I was obvious that Hannah was putting a lot of trust in Sir. And that I would have to trust that the two of them knew what was best for Graham. This was part of that.

Sir took the letter from me, folded it, and placed it on his desk. Then he reached into this top drawer and removed something small. Putting it in his pocket, he told both of us to go to the play room and prepare. I moved quickly so as to explain that prepare meant we were to get undressed.

When he entered a few second behind us he told Graham to stand next to the St. Andrews cross. Sir pulled some of our larger rope out of a bottom drawer and began to tie him to the cross. I watched almost mesmerized. Sir would rub Grahams chest and legs as he tightened each knot. There was a sexual energy in this exchange, but Sir’s demeanor never changed. Graham had his eyes clothes and was already moaning.

I knew he was hoping to have experiences like this. Hannah wouldn’t permit him to go to clubs or purchase their own equipment, so I was sure this was his first time being tied to anything. Normally Sir would put cuffs on my wrists and ankles before clipping me to the wall, but as I thought about it I realized that my cuffs were probably too small for Grahams limbs. The larger rope would have to do.

When Sir had Graham secured to the cross he walked over to the toy box and pulled out a riding crop and one of the smaller canes. Grahams eyes followed the cane as Sir walked across the room toward me.

“Pick one.”

This was a pretty standard practice for Sir. He would have me pick an implement that he would use on me. But now, I wasn’t sure if I was choosing for myself or Graham. I went with the cane, hoping it was the former. I was wrong.

“Here you go, Beth. Show me your form.” He handed me the cane, but I just stood there staring at it. Sir lightly slapped my right cheek.

“Let’s go cunt, before I get impatient.”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry Sir.”

“Graham you will count. And Beth, no holding back. If I think you are being too easy on him I will take over. Make him earn his reward.”

Walking over to Graham I stared as his cock was already straining against the cage. I ran the cane up both of his legs. He moaned. I tapped the end on his already hard nipples. He turned his head away from me. I tried to channel Sir.

“Look at me.” Graham instantly opened his eyes and turned to me. I don’t think he was expecting me to talk. I’m not even sure what possessed me to, but I didn’t hear a correction from Sir, so I kept going. As I walked in front of Graham his eyes now followed me. I wouldn’t have the element of surprise, but I didn’t want it. I wanted him to know the strike was coming, because it was going to hurt.

The cane made a slapping noise as it hit his upper thigh and a thud followed as his body jerked against the St. Andrew’s cross. He teeth were gritted together as he groaned and a red line almost immediately appeared.

When I was on the cross, I always wanted the hits to come closer together, as it was easier for me to get into subspace. So I decided to stick with that method with Graham. My blows were deliberate and in quick succession. Up and down his thighs and torso. I hit his nipple once and he yelped with such a pain that I couldn’t bring myself to do it again. I have no idea how long it took me to get to fifty, but by the time I did I could feel his exhaustion. Luckily Sir told me to stop.

“I am impressed. With both of you. Good form Beth. And Graham, I’m deeply impressed with you. You handled everything she threw at you.”

“Thank you Sir.” Graham was breathing heavy, but his eyes were focused.

“Now, let’s see how you handle your reward.”

It almost sounded more ominous that the beating. Sir reach into his pocket and pulled out a small key. I looked at it with confusion, but Graham’s eyes had gotten very wide.

“This, dear Beth, is a copy of Graham’s cage key. His mistress sent to me in a letter a few days before he arrived. In that letter were specific instructions of when and if I was meant to use it. She has agreed that certain experiences would be beneficial to you and she wants those to happen in a protected setting. Therefore, Beth, take this key, and remove Graham’s chastity device.”

I smiled as I took the key. Graham still looked confused, almost scared. I unlocked the cage and carefully removed it; setting it on the floor next to the cross.

“Now, Beth, Graham has heard of your talents from afar for a very long time. Let’s show him that I don’t over exaggerate your skill.”

I looked up and Graham and smiled as I watched his cock timidly grow. Unsure how to act without the cage surrounding it, his erection almost seemed unsure how to respond. I was practically giggling when I began licking and tonguing his shaft. He began to moan and strain against the ropes almost immediately.

Oral sex was always something that he had fantasized about. We had talked about it at length. When I had originally talked to Sir about Graham visiting, it had been a desire of mine to service him in this way. When the cage restriction had been announced I was upset that this wouldn’t come to fruition. Now I was enjoying every minute.

He filled my throat as I took him deep. I rubbed the cane marks on his thighs with my fingers and nails. He hissed and moaned. Unable to distinguish the pleasure from the pain he thrust into me one second and pressed back against the cross the next. Soon, his body took over and he was thrusting in earnest. I opened my jaw and stuck out my tongue to massage his balls with each thrust. His moans increased and then stopped as he came. I had meant to have him come all over my breasts (another fantasy of his), but the connection I felt as I drank in all of his orgasm was too amazing.

I sat back on my heels to await further instruction. As I looked up at Graham’s face. He was leaning back against the cross, breathing heavily, but a huge grin had appeared.

Sir handed us both bottles of water and tugged a strand of my hair affectionately as he walked by. He didn’t mind sharing me as long as he got to show me off. I am pretty sure we both loved that, actually.

Graham set the bottle of water down on the floor and gave me a quick smile before looking at Sir for further instruction.

“Beth, do you want to be my little piggy?”

“Yes, Sir.” I nodded eagerly.

“Then come assume the position. Graham, grab three lengths of rope from that second drawer and bring them here.” Graham began following the order, but I could tell he wasn’t sure what was happening. I kept waiting for him to meet my gaze so I could let him know it was a good thing, but he stayed focused on his task.

I climbed onto the spanking bench as ordered. Placing my hands together under the bar I rested my knees on each of the side bars. I let all my muscles relax as I sank into the padding. Taking one of the pieces of rope, Sir began tying my hands together. Without words he indicated to Graham to use the other two lengths on my thighs. Once they finished, Sir checked to make sure they were secure.

“Pick a toy Graham. Any toy you like. And use it on our little piggy until I say otherwise.”

Sir walked around to the front of the bench and unzipped his pants. Without order I took him into my mouth. I couldn’t see Graham walking about the room, so I focused on Sir’s cock until I felt him standing behind me.

I’m not sure what I was expecting; some impact toy, I guess. What I wasn’t expecting was the sharp point of the wartenberg wheel pressing into my flesh. I wriggled on the bench, but my legs were tied fast. Plus, Graham’s sadistic side emerged as he began to push down and drag the wheel whenever I attempted to move away. I was trying to focus on Sir’s cock, to let the pain take me into subspace. However, soon I felt Graham’s erection against my thigh. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Seems you are finally ready to help me roast our little piggy Graham. Put the wheel away and grab some lube off the shelf. Get yourself good and wet, and when I say, you are going to take her ass.”

“Yes, Sir.” He wasn’t even attempting to hide the eagerness in his voice.

My ass and pussy were soon dripping with a mixture of my own desire and the water soluble lube. I tried to indicate to Sir that I was ready by taking him as deep as I could. I’m pretty sure he understood my message, but liked it too much to act upon it until he wanted to. He never was one to bend to another person’s schedule. Graham rubbed the tip of his cock against my thighs. He was just as eager as I was.

“Okay, now.” As he gave Graham the order he grabbed the sides of my head and began to face fuck me slowly. I moaned around his cock. Graham pressed against me for only an instant before sliding in.

It only took a few thrusts for them to synchronize their movements. I relaxed every muscle and just enjoyed each moment of the glorious double penetration. Everything slid in and out and filled me just like I had dreamed. Being used by two men had topped my bucket list for a long time, and the chance to experience with these two made it even better.

It didn’t take long before we were all a moaning, coming mess. I don’t remember much after I was untied. The blissfulness of being used and getting to please two men I cared so deeply for had me drifting off to sleep. Sir carried me to bed.

I woke up around 11:30 to find myself sleeping alone. I ventured out into hall and down to living room. As I rounded the corner I heard laughter. Sir and Graham were sitting in the arm chairs on the opposite wall. Each had a whiskey tumbler and similar belly laughs. I only heard part of the discussion; something about each growing up in religious households.

I smiled at the thought myself and tiptoed back to bed. Graham would have to leave tomorrow and his cage was probably already back on. I crawled back in bed thinking of the big breakfast I would make for them. I hoped this visit was everything he had hoped for. It was more than I could have dreamed. And I still occasionally dream about it. On really good nights.

He won

Yesterday’s post for Sinful Sunday looked at my view when I was hiding from Sir. These are the consequences of my actions.

Rye's ass after caning.

You can faintly see the bruises forming around the harder strikes. I was proud of it after the fact. But it hurt like hell at the time. Sir enjoys pushing me until I safeword. It’s like a goal. I know that there are some kink couples out there where a submissive will never use her safeword. Sir takes it ask a challenge. He won’t stop until I tell him too. My tears and limits are his ecstasy.

Rye's ass after caning.I just wish I could take more for him. I mean, it hurts when it happens. I hate that I was stupid enough to hide from him. And I know I deserve the punishment. But when it’s over I just wish I had been able to take another hit. I want more of the pretty stripes and earned welts. The day he breaks the skin I think I will cry tears of joy. After the tears of pain…obviously.

Hide and Go Seek

Hide and go seek is not a game that Sir likes to play. About the only thing worse is tickling him. But sometimes I get the playful urge to run and hide before I consider the consequences of my actions. It’s when I’m hiding and I hear his footsteps coming across the room that I remember the predicament that I’ve just placed myself. And then all I can do is wait for him to find me.

Because even if he hates the game, he still always wins.

Sirs feet and legs walking by with a crop as we play hide and go seek.

 

Don’t forget to see who else is (mis)behaving in this week’s Sinful Sunday.

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Updates on Life

House fireplaceIt’s been a crazy few months, but things are finally settling down around here. We’ve been in the house for almost two months now. The contractors are done and gone. Our kitchen is well and truly lived in, though I try and clear the counters completely at least once a week. My dad is donating his time one day a week this summer to help finish up little projects around the house. It’s been really helpful to finish the trim painting and getting things done. The fireplace he did for us out of barn wood from my great-grandfathers farm is amazing. I can’t decide if it’s out of place in our more modern kitchen or not. Honestly, I don’t really care.

Starting Picture of Rye before diet
Starting Picture

I’ve started the diet and exercise in earnest. My twitter support group, #fwocrew, is amazing. And I’m working with the twitter boyfriend on dieting and counting calories. I’m only down about 15 pounds so far, but in only two months I am pretty happy with it. And the inches I’ve lost on my thighs are noticeable enough in my dress pants too. Hopefully I will get this set as a new lifestyle and get down to my goal weight by next year. It’s not easy. I fucking love ranch dressing.

I started a new job about five weeks ago. I still have my business, but I quit my work from home job. I get out of the house now, and I have nice clothes. It’s a bit crazy. But the work is interesting and I’m learning a lot. It’s not a ton of money, but there is potential there. And I like what I’m doing, so that counts for a lot. Sir and I are both out of the house during the day now, which makes it difficult for everything to be cleaned and neat all the time. But we’re managing.

Rye in BDSM sceneKink is another story. That reads poorly. We’re still enjoying all our kinky fun. It’s a little less consistent, but that’s just life. And we’ll spin it in a positive way and say it’s more spontaneous instead. We have started to make steps towards more of an open marriage relationship. Right now that has only had me playing with one other person (not a wonderful experience), but we’re taking it slow.

I am super excited for my trip in October though. I’ve been in contact (shamelessly flirting) with a guy on twitter for awhile now. So this fall I am flying out to spend two days with him and his wife. Even if it ends up being a fun visit with friends and a mini-break it will still be amazing. However, I am expecting some amazing sex and my first threesome. Great pictures and my first trip to the west coast. It will be fantastic no matter what. After I see them I am taking a coastal train down to L.A. to see my cousin who moved out there last year. She is like a little sister to me and it will be great to see her. There may be a matching tattoo trip as well (pictures might will follow).

So that’s a good all around basic update, right? The house, the job, sex, and upcoming fun. The kids are going to grandma’s tonight, so Sir and are hoping for some play time and a chance to sleep in tomorrow. If I make it to 7am I will call it a win, but Sir says getting up because you want to and not because you have to is the point. And he said it, so it must be true 🙂

The End of an Era

I’m not even sure what I was going to write about before I saw Kaya’s news yesterday. Right now nothing else matters.

As a woman, submissive, mother, person my heart breaks for Kaya. Her blog telling of her life and M/s relationship was an amazing part of my introduction into kink. She inspired me to start this blog and even helped me to find help starting my own site. Without her help I probably wouldn’t have kept writing.

At the same time, I could never judge her. Reading of her tragic news yesterday made me want to reach through the screen and hug her. No one should have to experience such a thing. And the idea of writing a sex blog while dealing with grief seems so distant from the list of one’s priorities. As much as it will hurt to lose her and her experience, I completely understand. I’m not sure I could do it either.

Sir is taking is quite hard. He’s been reading her since before he even met me. Back when his kinky life was all fantasy. Kaya and Scott’s relationship was everything he could ever wish for. When I found kink it was the first thing he showed me. It became a big resource for us as both of them were willing to answer our questions and share their ‘failed’ experiences.

I encourage you to go and read her amazing decade of work before it disappears. Start from the beginning and enjoy the laughter and tears. Know what it is when I say that I will miss her and everything she brought to the BDSM blogging community. And may she find healing as she deals with her tragic loss.

Creating a New Way

“It’s not going to fit.” I wish I had been joking. Just fluffing his ego or something; but I wasn’t. “There’s not way; I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it will fit, maybe not today. But by the time I get back down for a visit, mark my words. I’ll fit.”

*                      *                           *                       *

That was two weeks ago. Two days after he left I got a package from a lovely sex shop in London he had taken me to once or twice before. In it were three progressively larger butt plugs. Each was a plain, stainless steel tear drop shape. The smallest had a red ‘X’ on the end of the stopper, the next a black ‘X’, and the largest has a pretty emerald colored jewel. There was a note with them:

X = 3 days, at least 2 total hours/day

X = 4 days, at least 2 total hours/day

Gemstone = 7 days, at least 2 total hours/day, work up to 1 hour blocks of time

See you in two weeks cunt. xoxo

The first day was rough. Even the smallest plug was larger than any I currently owned. I found if I came once, and put my clit vibrator to high, I could relax enough to get it in. I tried to wear it as long as I could, but I ended up with several short spurts to equal my two hours.

The next few days weren’t so bad. Even moving up to the black ‘X’ size wasn’t as difficult as I had feared. Sir texted and told me to take a picture. He has colored the ends so he could tell which one I was wearing; I had wondered why they all didn’t look the same. He was happy with my progress, but warned me that the last size jump would be hard. His vote of confidence that I would be good to go when he saw me was not longer reassuring.

The day I first put the largest plug in I cried. And considering that I didn’t cry when I broke three fingers slamming my hand in the car door, that’s saying something. Even post-orgasm with the vibrator on it’s highest setting, it took me nearly ten minutes to put it in. I only wore it for another ten. There was blood. I called Sir bawling.

“I told you this was going to be difficult, but I wouldn’t ask you to do anything you weren’t capable of. Relax and give yourself an hour or so and try again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

An hour and a half later it still hurt, a lot. But after getting it in place I was able to leave it for an hour. My body adjusted quickly after the initial pain.

The next few days didn’t help as I continued to struggled, but once in I could leave it with little pain as I went about my chores and regular work. I could feel it, but only insertion and removal were painful. My anxiety grew, however, as it was not his intention to very slowly put his cock in me and then stay perfectly still. I was worried how anything rough or even just regular movement would feel. The last thing I wanted was to safeword after all the work I had done.

*                          *                          *                           *

I wore the plug as he arrived on Friday evening. I had dinner prepared and his drink waiting for him. He had me bend over and present myself to him before we ate.

“I am happy you are wearing the plug to dinner, cunt. I appreciate your commitment to my pleasure.”

He snapped his fingers and I sat down on the floor next to him. All that I laid out for myself was a napkin. Tonight he decided to feed me rather than give me a plate. It was a welcome gesture as I’m sure he could feel my nervousness.

He decided to wait on dessert, so I put the cheesecake in the fridge and we went upstairs. He told me to remove the plug. When I reentered the bedroom his dress shirt and tie were on the chaise and he was throwing his socks in my hamper. I would wash them in the morning.

He pulled the large bottle of lube from the drawer in my bedside table. I was ordered to grab a vibrator and get into position on the bed. With a mixture of excitement and dread I just wanted it over. I wanted to be everything he wanted. My mind was racing so much I opened the wrong drawer twice trying to get my vibrator.

When I climbed on the bed I shaking. He rubbed my breasts and arms as he turned me around and pushed me out into the bed. He pulled me arms around my back and told me to hold myself open for him. The lube was cold and it felt like he was using half the bottle. I was going to make a snarky comment, but then I felt the pressure of his cock against my skin. I knew there wouldn’t be the slow entries that I had given myself with the plugs. All I could do was relax as much as possible as he grabbed my hips. I took a sharp intake of breath as he pushed his tip in an squeezed my hips with both hands.

“There’s a good girl. See, what did I tell you? If there’s no way, create one.”

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings