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Talking Shit


I was talking gangs of shit of how I was going to fuck him senseless, waterboard, and break his ass while we were just hanging out on the couch watching our shows. I don’t even know what started it or got into me, but I definitely knew what I wanted in me. I was manhandling him, threatening him, and just being a nuisance in general while trying to get his goat, or should I say, just returning some of his brattiness for a change, until he finally had enough and reminded me who is in charge. Man, I’m good.

When he walked me into the bedroom and ordered me nekkid, I asked coyly, “Where do you want me?” He grabbed me by my arms and put me at the side of the bed and told me to “Assume the position.” I played dumb until he put me where he wanted me. I was already a hot mess from all my dirty talk and the anticipation of retribution, and when he pushed my legs open, dropped down between my thighs, and spread me, it was like his tongue was churrasco dipping into my chimichurri, which just happens to be his second favorite meal after me. 

I was ovulating like nobody’s business and thought he was going to have more than just his hands full, but he wrapped his muscular arm around my leg and held me like a cello, using his fingers on that hand to pull my strings taut and his other like a bow to make me sing, sliding them in and out of me; and for the piece de resistance, he played my clit like Hendrix with his magical tongue. I came faster than I thought I could, and I knew then that he was going to be just fine. With one down already and feeling more just waiting in the wings, along with the look of dominant perseverance in his eyes, I kind of got that loving feeling that I’d better put my seatbelt on.  

He then stood up between my shaking legs with confidence and pulled his shirt off over his head, unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his jeans purposefully before needing to force them down along with his briefs over his fat, erect manhood. He milked my juices from his goatee and used them to lube and stroke his deliciously intimidating cock before clubbing my clit like a baby seal with it. I ached to have him inside me and begged, “Fuck me,” as he glared at me with a look that could only be interpreted as a threat.  When he broke inside of me, it was like what I imagine it feels like to be jumped by a defibrillator. In very short order, I went from not being sure that he was going to be able to satisfy my hunger to admitting that I could die happy after I came so hard as he made me pay wonderfully for my earlier insolence with his battle ram while simultaneously lobotomizing me further by strumming my clit with his thumb. I couldn’t even expel him because of his determination to make me pay, and it was obvious that my lesson wasn’t over by his clenched jaws and searing bedroom blues. 

I wish there was a story to tell about this amazing session, other than me just being out of my mind horny, but sometimes a woman just has needs. Even though I went from talking all kinds of shit like Muhammad Ali to taking a beating like Liston, it was still one hell of a match. I was knocked down so many times, but kept getting up, and he kept beating my ass, literally. I guess I’m lucky that I was saved by the bell when I was. The doorbell chimed, and though we had known his sister was coming over, we hadn’t realized how long we were indisposed until we heard the bell.  He grabbed me by the back of the head, kissed me hard, and said, “You’re lucky,” as we heard the kids letting their Auntie in. He jumped up and rinsed before giving me a kiss and telling me he had to go drop his sister off and wouldn’t be long. I didn’t know just how spent I was until I realized I couldn’t even move, much less get up to say hello to my sister-in-law. Even after I heard them leave, I had every intention of getting up and finding my second wind, but instead I fell into a deep, cock induced, orgasmic coma.

Twelve hours later and with no recollection of hearing him come home, kissing me, or tucking me in again, I woke up incredibly refreshed. I rolled over to see the clock and was shocked at how late it was. I was still buck nekkid and probably could have slept more if I didn't have to pee like a racehorse. He always wakes early because his back doesn’t permit him to sleep in, but he keeps the room like the Bat Cave for me. I really wanted to pin a Fucking metal to his chest too, so I got up to take a quick shower and found that I was so gratefully sore and deliciously tender to my touch as I washed and rinsed. When I came out of the room, he had coffee waiting and made me a delicious fried egg sandwich before we spent the next few hours in beautiful silence, reading on the porch without a word needing to be said.

Happy Hump Day!

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