hot and cold.


Things reach a new level when fantastic sex becomes the norm. Especially if it’s followed immediately by more fantastic sex.

We wandered through the village last night, searching for a pair of non-furry handcuffs, then came home and immediately put them to use. NYC is burning like hell. People are lazy and hot and I am overwhelmingly unmotivated. The floor boards in the apartment nearly burned my feet. Projection for the sale of cold beer: sharp incline. We used the heat as an excuse to lock ourselves in the bedroom, stripping our sticky clothing off to let the cooler air conditioned air brush our skin. The fire leaped off the floorboards and buried itself in his eyes, mischief and violence planted their roots in his brain and before I knew it, I was cuffed to the foot of his loft as he beat my bare ass.

I watched him through my legs as he tinkered with tools, attaching and reattaching clamps to my skin. Alternating sweet, silky caresses with open handed smacks, he slid his fingers inside my cunt and laughed as I cried out in pleasure. Then the tears came, rolling down my cheeks, smudging my black mascara. He fucked me harder with his fingers and I slipped into subspace, coming on my feet. I yelped as he pulled off his pants and shoved his cock inside me, the blood rushing to my head as I hung bent over.

He counted my orgasms, instructing me to cum twice before he did. Then three times. Then five. Finally we came together, my rasping screams matching his thrusts and moans in perfect time. I straightened myself when we’d finished and laid my head on his steps, still linked to his bed with handcuffs. Things happened. Somehow, I crawled up onto his bed and I know he ran his fingers across my back. The rest is a black blur to me.

When I returned to my senses, we talked. A really good, interesting and important conversation that left my thoughts well ironed. The confusion is gone. I’m comfortable. I’m happy. I’m proud of myself.

We shortly followed with round two, me desperately trying to ease my oral urges. We both came just as hard again, collapsed into a heap and curled together. The sweat evaporated from my skin, giving me chills as the cool air flowed across my back.

2 Responses to “hot and cold.”

  1. 1 naughtysecretary

    Sounds like mine and yours could be brothers… 😉

  2. If I had a dime for every time you had on orgasm I wouldn’t need to work.

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