I get so excited when he lets me “assume” control, even if for a brief time. He had been teasing the shit out of me on the couch with his playful roughhousing and tickling to get a rise out of me. He kept going like the master brat he is, and the last straw that broke me was when he grabbed me by my hair and pulled my face down to his lap to find him already thick. I bite him through the soft material of his shorts as his full manhood stretches across his groin to his hip as if trying to get free. He allows me to muscle back leverage by pulling his shorts and briefs off triumphantly and standing before him like “now what” while twirling his shorts. Of course, his answer was to reach down with both hands and grab his beautiful, fat riding whip at the base and squeeze it while swinging it back and forth, almost slapping himself in the chest and telling me to “suck it”. I literally don’t know how he maintains consciousness when he gets as hard as he does. It is nearly as big and thick as my forearm when at full mast and just as mouthwateringly intimidating. It looked so deliciously thick, and that massive vein on it was making me feel all vampiric and aching to bite into it, but I wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. I know how much he loves to see me wrap both of my hands around him, like trying to eat something you could only get to eat at the fairgrounds. I removed my nightie before jumping on and straddling him, determined to play my own version of log balancing. I was so hot and bothered already and plenty slick from him being forceful that it made it easy to glide up and down him like it was a fire pole, just hoping to tease him a bit. I wouldn’t let him break into me as I just jockeyed in the saddle. I got to see the frustration in his face as my clit rolled over the thick helmet of his pulsing cattle prod. I finally broke him, and he begged to be inside of me while grabbing and spreading all of me. I told him he had to sit on his hands before I would, to which he readily complied. He was thoroughly broken, and I was ready to ride without the threat of too much bucking; I wrapped my hands around his beautiful cock and slowly lowered myself on him. He spread and filled me with glorious pain; I had to keep spreading myself to keep my lips from being tucked inside of me until he was thoroughly lubricated. I slowly moved up and down him, watching the moisture ring on his cock get deeper and deeper until he was hitting so deep in me that it was like I was impaling myself, a sacrifice I am always happy to make. I rode him as hard as I could until my abs and thighs were on fire, and as if he could read my mind, he effortlessly took back control, picking me up and putting me under him without starving my nether mouth for an instant. I so needed his help and wanted him to fucking break me too.
I couldn’t wait to take back the reins and drive us home. I know we were both on that very edge where the need for just a little more horsepower was necessary to get us there. I picked her up and put her down, anxious to put a hurting on her. I put both of her legs together and over my shoulder with her knees next to her head, and I locked onto one of her shoulders and the edge of the couch for leverage. I hit hard and deep, dipping my hips to hit her special spot on every other stroke, with every other one bottoming out at the deepest part of her. Her face gave all the direction I needed to know. She was there, and I knew it was okay to let go so that we could get there together. I just needed to know she was well on her way, and then her eyes told me what her mouth couldn’t “NOW”. With one hand, she stiff-armed at my hip to protect against the blows while she dug her nails into me with the other to keep me deep. Her silent and violent orgasm came as she tried to expel me, but I held strong to the couch long enough to fill her before collapsing next to her, my spent cock falling out of her, causing her entire body to jerk uncontrollably as her hands came up to ward off any more contact she exclaimed, “Don’t touch me, I’m still coming”. All I could do was roll onto my back in an effort to catch my breath, trying to bring my heart rate down. “Holy shit,” she mustered before rolling over herself and petting my cock as if to thank him, and then putting her hand on my chest with a look of concern and asking if I was okay. “Perfect” was all I could pant.
Man, I don’t know how he does it. I know how hard it is for me, but the effort he has to put into it sometimes is scary. I fear he is going to have a heart attack sometimes, but I appreciate his hard work more when we can both get there together. Sometimes we can only manage it just long enough for one of us to get there, leaving ourselves too exhausted to finish the other; but it is the times when we can finish together that make our efforts so worth it. He does hurt me so wonderfully, and I love that he fills me so completely that even my soul gets bruised. He had my legs together and bending me in half, while still being conscious enough not to hurt me more than I wanted, and how he knows how to hit my G-spot is amazing. I love to see the sheer confidence and determination in his face as he fucks me. I try to maintain some composure, but I can’t help it, and sometimes wish I could just bury my head when I get to the point where it feels like my eyes are rolling back in my head and I feel less than attractive, but I’ve long since given it up because I know how much it turns him on. I exact my revenge for him making me lose it by branding him unbeknownst to me by sometimes digging my nails into his arm and this time his back, just like he does when leaving his love bruises in my hips, thighs, and soul. It was another mind-altering experience that had us speechless and dumbfounded for a brief time, with those rolling, smaller orgasms that often follow for me. There have to be some advantages to being female, right? I roll over and subconsciously realize that I was paying some sort of homage to his beautiful cock like it was its own separate deity before I snapped out of it and realized that my love was attached to it. My poor baby looked so sated and high, though exhausted, as I put my hand on his chest, I felt his RPMs slowly drop as he meditated. When my brain returned to me and I once again didn’t feel like I was speaking in tongues, I asked him if I could get him anything and if he was okay, to which my perfect man could only muster “perfect”. The Strum melody of his morning alarm wakes both of us; we both seemed to be more chipper than usual and had me wondering if his dreams were anywhere as good as mine. He goes through his morning routine before work, and I decide to get up and actually walk him to the door rather than his normal massages and goose-bump-inducing kisses in bed. I get out of bed, and while walking him to the door, I realize that I am super sore and that I actually feel like I have been riding a horse. He kisses me goodbye with a sympathetic smile and says, “Happy Hump Day”.
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