Ok, ok, I know I said I wouldn't bog this down with house hunting but I really just have to say WE FOUND IT!

W/we did! When I said a couple of houses yesterday I should have actually said one because although W/we did see some others, Mac had really pretty much made up His mind, He just wanted me to come to the same conclusion and I did.

I walked into this house and it spoke to me. I don't mean I started hearing voices but there was something about it that just felt right. It is old and it is spacey and it has the feel that a family has lived here and loved here and have grown and moved on. This is a house that has known laughter and known tears and it felt so right. W/we stood in the master bedroom holding hands looking out over the back yard.

'This is it, isn't it?' I asked Mac.
'Yes' He answered. 'It is.'

W/we walked downstairs and out into the garden and if I had any doubts at all they disappeared as Mac left me on the patio and walked down to the orchard, (yes it has an orchard!) calling me to follow Him when He was halfway there.

I suddenly saw an older Mac with His hands in His coat pockets walking across the lawn as the grass cracked beneath His feet. And I saw a smaller version of Mac, perhaps aged three or four, with his hands in his coat pockets, stretching his little legs so his little feet stood in his Father's footprints. Mac turned and smiled at me and His son ran to Him and He lifted Him up into the air.

Then as Mac reached the line of trees and actually did turn to look at me an older Mac again smiled at me before He disappeared behind the trees.

My lip started trembling so I bit it. My eyes filled with happy tears so I stared at the sky and willed the threatening rain to fall and while the sky stayed dry my eyes really didn't and I thanked god that I had been smart enough not to put make-up on.

Mac called to me again and I quickly dabbed at my eyes with the sleeve of my coat and continued across the garden to the trees. As I stepped between them Mac jumped out and said boo and I squealed as my heart skipped two beats. I slapped at His arm and He said I hit like a girl so I hit at His arm again. He said 'ouch' but He was smiling and He took my hand and told me that if I didn't stop being so happy I was going to dehydrate. I had to laugh.

He kissed my cheek and W/we held hands as W/we walked back up the yard and W/we told the agent W/we had seen enough.

Mac said I am not allowed to get my hopes up too high as so many things could go wrong before any contracts are signed. In fact W/we don't even know if they will accept what W/we are offering, and W/we have to get a building inspection done. Thing is, I really believe that W/we are meant to have that house.

Mac has told me to try not to think about it until everything is settled.

I am doing really well so far, don't you think?

Mac come home last night and put down His briefcase and laptop and made an announcement:

'Sarah, W/we are buying a house.'

What is the correct response to this? I have had all night to think about it and I am still not sure but my response was somewhere along the lines of:

'What?'

He explained it to me a little more carefully. The apartment is getting too small. There is no yard. Spring is around the corner, followed by summer and wouldn't it be nice to spend it in O/our garden. He has a new contract at work. The pay rise was more than expected. The savings are there. It's time.

And besides all that He wants to own a house. With me. O/our house.

Yes I am crying. I have been crying off and on since He told me. Silly really. I know that He owns me, I know that W/we plan to be together forever. I know W/we are both committed to this relationship. But this is something solid, something concrete (or bricks at least) and I should hush about it now before I scare Mac out of it!

So today W/we are going to look at a couple of houses that Mac has decided He likes. He also said not to bog down the blog with house hunting details so I shan't except to say:

WE ARE BUYING A HOUSE!!!

When W/we made love last night I started crying the moment that He pulled me to Him and He asked me what was wrong for the fifth time. I told Him that I was just so happy that I was going to burst with it if I didn't let it out in my tears. He shook His head and told me that He doesn't understand happy tears. He lay over me, crushing me with His body and overwhelming me with the feel of Him. He was hardly moving, His hips rocking gently to keep Him deep inside me. He held my face and kissed away my tears, which only made me cry more. We kissed for what seemed like hours. It may have been hours, I really don't know. He stayed inside me the whole time, letting my muscles caress Him while my fingernails trailed along His back.

At times He shuddered and at times He broke His mouth away from mine to groan. I would think 'He must be close' but He would hold Himself back, telling me He didn't want it to end. I reminded Him that W/we have tomorrow and I arched up beneath Him as I came. The contracting of my muscles made it too hard for Him to hold back any longer and I told Him that I loved Him while He filled me with His seed.

He stayed inside me as He softened, kissing me and growling at me when I tightened. He told me W/we have forever and I started crying again and He moved to lie beside me and pulled me to His chest. He soothed me and He rocked me until I fell asleep and when I woke this morning His arm was still around me, keeping me close and protecting me from the world.

O/our house.

I am crying again.

Mac once told me a story about His dad, who was also the coach of Mac's rugby team while He was still in school. Mac's dad coached the team for many years, from the time they were little lads whose dads would dry behind their ears in the change rooms after games, until this particular time when they were 17. It was the end of the season and the boys had performed well, taking out the area championship as well as quite a few of the players being selected to play for the national school boys team.

The rugby club put on a celebratory dinner for them, the boys and their families. The beer was free and the club didn't stick to the rules of age when it came to drinking, the boys were their champions and so close to legal age after all.

So here were twenty 17 year olds, drinking themselves silly while their parents, siblings and grandparents looked on. Mac's dad was outside being interviewed by a local paper and had no clue what was going on inside.

It was announced that the buffet was ready and all of the 17 year olds grabbed plates and made a dash for the food, pushing and shoving each other, generally being 17-year-old boys with a little too much alcohol in their system. Before they actually got to the buffet Mac's dad walked in to the room and took once glance at what was happening and he said 'Right you lot, guests first.' Without protest or grumbling or reproach the boys turned around and walked back to the table and sat down.

There was a stunned silence from the guests. Mac's dad hadn't raised his voice, hadn't threatened them, hadn't sworn or ranted, he had just told them what to do and they had obeyed without complaint. For the rest of the night Mac said you overheard people saying things like 'How did he do that?' 'Wish I could get [insert name] to do the stuff I say.' 'He didn't even sound angry!'

I always loved this story because to me it showed the admiration these almost men had for Mac's dad. There would have been times over the years that they would not have agreed with the decisions that he made and times I am sure they had butted heads, but he given them good guidance and they respected Mac's dad for it. So when he said guests first, they all turned back knowing that He was right.

Because of that story, I should not have been quite so surprised at what happened last night. I was though. It was a complete shock.

W/we have a group of friends that we have pretty much had for the last four and a half years. There is a basic core of us that are really good friends and then there are people who come and go and depending on the relationships they are in and such. The core of us try and get together for dinner at least once a month and the others that are around get an invite too and whoever shows up is there. It's a pretty informal thing and always lots of fun.

If Mac has been into the office, Christine will call past and drive me to the restaurant so that Mac doesn't need to drive out and pick me up. There is a fringe dweller that has been hanging around for a couple of months and he really gets on my nerves. His name is Robert and I have blogged about him before, he once whined about not liking woman that need men, but refused to be drawn into a discussion on it and made me feel rather small with the way he spoke to me. I have pretty much avoided Robert since then but he happened to be there last night.

The situation that arose started out as a discussion once again on the strength of women that need men and it very quickly turned ugly and at that point I should have walked away. Instead I stood my ground and the rest of O/our friends joined in and there was some name calling and it was all really awful and I tried to back off but no one was listening and it looked like a discussion that one would see at the local football ground, not in our favourite place to eat.

At the height of it Robert called me a stupid slut and I thought that any second punches would be thrown and it was at that moment Mac walked in. Everyone started talking to Him and He ignored them all and looked directly at me.

'What is going on?' He said calmly and everyone fell silent and of course I started to jibber out some answer to defend my part in this.

'Well Robert started talking about women who need men being weak and I told him I need You but I am not weak...'

Mac held up His hand and I stopped.

'Why would you feel a need to defend O/our relationship to anyone let alone someone who obviously doesn't have a clue? You do not need to speak to Robert anymore, nor will you ever defend U/us again. Do you understand?' He said all this quite calmly, no anger, no frustration, no disappointment in His voice. He just stated it as fact.

I stood there with my head bowed, and felt very ashamed of my behaviour. I told Him I understood and that I was sorry. Much to my amazement, others around U/us apologised too. Mac announced that He was going to the bathroom and that when He came back, He would start His evening over. He kissed me on the cheek (a sign between U/us that all is forgiven) and He left.

The conversation slowly resumed in a much more normal manner and Robert was judiciously ignored. He said that he was leaving and no one tried to stop him and the room felt much lighter with him gone.

Mac came back bounding with His usually energy and the dinner turned out to be a lot of fun. There was lots of good conversation and much laughter and not one person mentioned Robert or what had happened again.

W/we got in the car to come home and Mac asked me what was wrong, as I had been a little quiet all evening. I squirmed a little and tried to avoid it but He told me to stop dithering and just tell Him. So I told Him I had been extremely aroused from the moment that He had looked at me and asked me what was going on. He had just been so dominating, He had oozed Maleness and the rest of the room had responded to Him with respect and admiration and it had been such a complete turn on that I had spent the evening with my heart beating in my clitoris.

Mac sighed and said that He expected that I would want to be used now and I grinned at Him and told Him I wouldn't mind.

When W/we got home He sent me to the bedroom and told me to be ready. I stripped myself naked and knelt on the floor and waited. He made me wait ten minutes before He came in and undressed while I stayed looking at the floor.

He grabbed my hair and tilted my head up and He called me a good slut. He slapped me and dragged me to my feet, pulling me to stand in front of the dresser so that I could see the both of U/us naked in the mirror. My cheek was bright red from where He had hit me. He made me grasp the edge of the dresser with my hands and place one of my legs on the top of the dresser. I could see what He was doing in the mirror and I blushed as He spat onto my ass and on His cock.

He fucked my ass roughly, pulling my hair and biting at my shoulders and neck. He got me to use one hand to play with my clitoris and I kept trying to look away, not wanting to look into the mirror. Each time I did He would pull my hair back so that I would look again and I would blush. He made me watch myself come and I was still trying to pull away so He withdrew from me and spun me around to face Him. He slapped me twice, once on each cheek and He pushed me to my hands and knees on the floor. He ass fucked me again, this time slapping my ass as He did. He called me His cunt, His slut, His bitch and other names, hitting me to mark me with each word.

I cried and He ignored my tears and pinched my clitoris until I came again. He slid Himself beneath me, between my legs so that I was sitting over his groin facing away from Him. He pulled me onto His cock and I braced my hands against the floor between His legs. I moved up and down His cock while He lay still beneath me, forcing me to do all the work. He slapped at my ass while I rode Him and He made me come again before He pushed me off Him once more.

He told me to kneel and I shifted and He slapped me across the face again. He asked if I was still coming and I told Him I was and He laughed and called me an easy fuck. He grabbed my throat and slapped my face again and again, one cheek then the other over and over. I couldn't breath and I needed to cry and I couldn't wrap my thoughts around what was happening. Then He stopped hitting me. He leaned over and spat into my open mouth and I felt like my body was exploding in pleasure. My consciousness started to slip.

He let go of my throat and He kissed me gently offering me His cock, which I gratefully kissed and licked and caressed. When He came I continued to lick across the head of His cock, whimpering as He spurted His semen across my face.

He tried to hold me but I was restless and I asked Him if I could log on because I had told wench that I would. He said I could and I checked some blogs and when Mac called me to come shower I remembered that I was supposed to be leaving a message for wench so I did.

My body was still buzzing and once I was in the shower with Mac I couldn't keep my hands off Him and it wasn't long before He was hard again. The tiles were cold against my back and I whined about it briefly and He bit my lips to shut me up while He pushed His cock into me again. I had my legs wrapped around Him and the water made His body slippery and I had to hold Him tightly to stay up. He bit my neck and made me scream before kissing me with the taste of my blood on His tongue. W/we both came again and when Mac put me down, my legs collapsed beneath me so He carried me out of the shower and sat me on the edge of the bath. He wrapped a towel around me and carried me to the bedroom and I think I fell asleep before He had even put me down.

Today I am a little shaky and a little fuzzy and I think I need more sleep. I woke Mac a little while ago and He told me that He doesn't need to be at work till later so I have a chance to go snuggle up with Him. Makes me wonder what I am doing here.

Oh yeah.

My name is Sarah, and I am still a blogaholic.

Mac and I had a nice warm talk last night when W/we climbed into bed. W/we discussed what blessing asked about what it was like from Mac's point of view. The truth is He doesn't tend to think about these things the way I do. He does things because it feels right and I want to know why they feel right.

If you asked Mac what He had done, He would say He saw His girl naked, on the floor, after 5 days of being apart. He wanted her so He took her and He loved her for the way she gave herself to Him.

If you asked me what Mac did, I would say He broke down the wall I had put up to protect me from the world while He was away and reconnected U/us again.

W/we both took the things W/we needed from the situation and yet both of U/us felt the giving had been done by the other. This is often the case between Mac and I. Typical conversation will go:

Me: Thank you, Babe
Mac: For what?
Me: For that.
Mac: Oh, I thought it was you doing that for me.
Me: Well I thought it was You doing it for me!
Mac: Well, thankyou too.

I adore that I can take what I need from Him and have Him feel like I am giving Him a gift.

W/we chatted and I giggled about this for about 30 minutes before Mac announced that He was tired. (That is His nice way of saying shut up and go to sleep Sarah. If I ignore that and keep talking, He actually does say, "shut up and go to sleep Sarah". After that He says, "for god sake, shut up woman" and I am not brave enough (or silly enough) to find out what happens after that.) W/we had been touching each other and snuggling together for those 30 minutes and I wasn't sure if Mac wanted to come or if He was content just to go to sleep, so I did the only sensible thing I could think to do and I asked Him.

He said He was tempted to take me, but because He was so tired He would wait until W/we woke and He called me His beautiful girl for offering.

And I tried to get even closer while He slept.

This morning I waited as long as I could but it was so hard to let Him sleep. In the end I woke Him with my mouth on His cock. Usually when I start with my mouth all Mac can think about is finishing in my mouth but since I am ovulating He wants to be inside me.

'Come here you.' He said as He pulled me up to sit over His body. My knees slid down either side of Him to rest against the sheets. His hands guided me, shifting my body into the position He desired above His groin.

'Do it,' He ordered and for one cheeky moment it crossed my mind to play dumb and ask what, but my desire to have Him inside me was too strong. I grasped His cock with one hand and gently guided it inside me as He lowered my body onto it.

It's all in that entry isn't it? The feeling of U/us joining, the fullness as the muscles stretched and spread, opening my body to accept His. He was inside me, a part of me and for one mind blowing moment I knew that nothing would ever feel this good again. And then He lifted me and entered me again, and again. Even in this position, His hands on my hips never allow me to forget who it was that had control.

He pulled me onto Him again and each entry was exquisite pleasure as my body moulded around Him to make Him mine. He slipped His thumb between U/us and pressed it against my clitoris, forcing an involuntary shiver to pass through me.

'Your orgasm is mine. Give it to me.' He demanded and I discovered He is right. It is something He can take at His will.

'Good girl' He whispered as my body arched back, my knees pressing at His sides to stop Him from pushing so deep inside me while I came. He ignored my feeble protests, my attempts to escape and thrust Himself inside me again.

I moaned for Him to stop, told Him it was too intense and He grinned and pushed into me again.

'You bastard,' I gasped and braced my hands against His chest to try and recover.
'Your turn,' I hissed at Him and He grinned at me again, daring me to try and make Him come.

And then He held me still while His cock was buried deep inside me, held me still so that I could not pleasure Him, and He made His cock throb. I felt it and I clenched. So He did it again. He smiled at me, the soft contented smile of a Man who is pleased with the way the day is going and it frustrated me to know that He still had such control.

'You bastard' I gasped again and He threw His head back against the bed and laughed. I grinned and rocked my hips in a way that He couldn't contain and His eyes narrowed, His laughter stopped. His fingers dug into my hips and I continued to rock, squeezing Him rhythmically with my muscles. He growled and tried again to hold me before He gave up and reached for my hair. He tugged me forward and raised His knees as I fell over His chest.

'You bitch,' He gasped and I could have laughed but instead I bit His lips, and licked them, and parted them with my tongue while He pushed His body up into mine over and over again.

'Christ, Sarah,' He groaned and His hand in my hair held my mouth firmly over His and I devoured His growls of orgasm as He filled me with His come. I giggled as I lay over Him, nuzzling into His neck and He let His arms fall heavily to the bed.

'What are you giggling at?' He asked and I giggled some more.
'I won.'
'Oh, yeah.' He said. 'I had a huge orgasm, but you won, silly me.'
'HA! I made You come.'
'Only because I let you!'
'Uh huh,' I nodded and He casually flipped me over to lie beneath Him.
'Don't get cheeky with me, girl,' He whispered between kisses and for a while it was very quiet while O/our tongues met.

'Mac?' I asked tentatively when W/we came up for air. 'You know this winning? If I lost, how come I get to leak You all day?'
'You wicked girl,' He shook His head and I grinned and reluctantly W/we untangled O/our bodies so that He could get ready for work.

So now I sit here with sticky thighs writing about my day so far and thinking that W/we both were winners again.

Irona? They were right.

Bad girls do have more fun.

And she knelt on the floor and let her mind drift to all the things He had done to her in the past and all the things she longed yet to do. Her fingers gently caressed her clitoris, knowing that He would not be as kind as she was being to herself.

'Will You hurt me?' she whispered to none but the walls. 'I hope You hurt me.' She bowed her head and said no more.

She heard a car door slam and the sound of cases landing on the pavement outside. She wanted to run to the window, to throw open the door but she resisted the need to see Him, knowing that she wanted His first glimpse to be of His good girl in the place she loves so much, on her knees, at His feet, where she belongs.

The door slipped open and He clattered inside, suitcases banging as He tried to fit into the room. She knew the moment that He saw her from the silence that fell and she although she longed to look up at Him she remained completely still.

Bags hit the floor and He stepped over to her, His hand reaching out to touch her face. He caressed her cheek and tilted her chin, His fingers tracing along the line of her neck and she gasped at the depth of love she saw in His eyes.

'My beautiful girl,' He whispered and His hand pulled back and He slapped her across the face.

Tears spilled from her eyes and He pulled her to her feet and surrounded her with the strength of His arms. He held her tighter and more secure than she could remember ever being held before. He covered her face in kisses, claiming her tears, her eyes, her lips and tongue as His own.

'Sarah,' He growled, 'I need you now.' He half dragged, half carried her into the room next to them and He twisted her and pushed her over the back of the couch.

'The bed?' she questioned.
'Now.' He demanded and she made her body as comfortable as she could, spreading her legs and pushing her ass back for His use. He slid His cock along her and thrust it inside her and she whimpered as she felt Him fill her pussy. His hands gripped her hips and pulled Him back on her and she loved the warmth that spread out from her groin into her fingertips, knowing that He was a part of her once more.

He forced Himself inside her again and again and she whimpered with each stroke He took. He reached around her and His fingers found her clitoris and she cried as she came, sobbing out His name. He rested His weight on her, biting at her shoulders as His cock throbbed and emptied itself deep inside her.

He picked her up and carried her to the couch and He sat with her on His lap, fitting her into Him like she belonged. He let her cry while He held her tight and He soothed her with the gentlest of words.

'I love you Sarah. I am home. You have been such a good girl and I am proud of you.'

He stroked my hair and I could feel His semen leak from me and I knew I didn't need to be so strong anymore. I could let go and I could relax, because He was home.

W/we ate breakfast together and then W/we snuggled up in bed. Mac was tired from the flight and I was tired from not sleeping properly when He isn't here. I rested with my head against His chest and listened to His heartbeat as He started to drift off to sleep.

'Sarah?' He mumbled drowsily.
'Mac?'
'When I wake up, I think I will need to use you again.'

I smiled and thought about telling Him that I wanted to be dirty, but I figured I should let Him find that out Himself.

And He did.

I want to be dirty. I want to be cunt fucking, semen sucking, ass licking, dirty. I want to indulge in the obscenities of sex. I want to do all the things that bad girls are paid to do. I want to be fucked hard and harder until I can't take anymore. I want to be torn apart and devoured by the cocks of strangers. I want to be forced to be dirty with men.

Push me against the wall and make me brace myself with my hands, run your throbbing prick along my slit and thrust it inside me. How good does it feel? God, how big, how hot, how nasty does it feel to be inside such a wanton little whore. Do you like the way I writhe against you? Do you like the way I work you deeper into my cunt?

'That's it,' I moan. 'Do it harder, baby.' And I hope that the lust is caught up in your throat. I want you to growl, I want you to grunt, I want you to fill me with your come. I want to take your orgasm from you and make your cock mine. I want it to throb at the sound of my name. I want it to ache at the memory of this moment. I want you to masturbate over me again and again.

And when you are done I want to giggle with delight and gurgle with satisfaction and I want to kneel in the dirt and worship your cock. I want you to trace it over my face, my eyes, my cheeks, my chin, so that the juices we have spilt mark me as a whore. I want you to slap me and pull me back to suck your cock and lick your balls and then I want to fuck your ass with my tongue. I want to feel the blood thunder through your cock as my tongue wriggles its way inside you.

Come for me baby, as my fingers dance over your cock, stroking and caressing to a beat unheard. Come for me, as my tongue pries at your asshole, slipping inside you with each stroke. Come for me because you need to. Come for me because I want you to. Come because the pressure in your balls is just too much. I want it again. I want it all. Please let me make it mine?

And this time when you are done, slap me down and use my hair to clean away the mess I made you make. What good am I if I cannot be a come-rag for you to use? Then drag me up and force my back against the wall, hold my throat and steal my breath, I promise I wont mind. If your finger found my clitoris I would tremble beneath your hands and you could kiss my breathless lips while I cried. For a moment, just for a moment, you could love me too before you toss the coins at me and walk away.

I blame wench for this need I have woken with. She told me before I slept that she was a naughty nasty girl and now I want to be one too. I blame Mac. He is somewhere between the train station and home and I need His greed for pleasure so very very much. I blame Sarah. When I peel back the layers of all the things I am, of all the coats I wear to protect me from the world, I really am a dirty little slut. I love all three of U/us for encouraging me to feel the way I do.

Now I have to go and wait for Him, naked, on my knees, so that His girl is the first thing He sees when He walks through the door.

And I hope that He will let me be...

dirty.

I want to be caned. So much so that it is invading my fantasies and holding my orgasms for ransom when I am on my own. I have this fantasy and it is one that I have had since I was young. I have a feeling it started with a Disney movie about some boarding school girls that got caught doing something wrong and were sent to the headmistress for punishment. They were each whacked with a paddle while the others looked on all teary eyed and very sorry for what they had done.

I have of course adapted this over the years so that it is hardly recognisable from the scene I saw first. People have changed and implements have changed and if I haven't fully explained my aversion to punishment, just let me make it clear right now. To me personally, punishment is something that I take very badly indeed. I can actually call to mind any of the punishments I received as a child, what they were for, how much it hurt and how much guilt I still feel from it. I can punish myself for a long long time.

I know what a cane feels like when it hits. I don't like it. That awful swish, that sharp sting, followed by a numbness that turns into a blinding burn across the ass. I do not like it at all. I have been known to burst into tears and try to escape before his arm was even raised and yet right now, I want it.

I sometimes wonder how I can crave these things that I despise so much. But I know that I want them just so I can cry. I want the comfort of crying. I want the comfort of big strong arms around me and a rough Welsh voice telling me to hush. I want to hurt so that He can take the pain away and in this one, I want to suffer so that Emma is there to comfort me as well.

And of course, I get a thrill out of scaring myself too.

This is something I would never ask Mac to do because I know He would say no. I know He has no desire to hurt me this way. But I also know right now that He would allow me to kneel before Him and He would pull my hair and slap my face as He used me for His pleasure. I know He feels this desire inside me and it feeds His desire and makes it grow. I am content to keep this as a fantasy, for now, at least.

"She reached across the table and Emma took her hands, their eyes locking and holding a conversation all of their own. She could see the concern in Emma's eyes and knew that the fear must show in hers. Emma pulled her across the table so that her upper body lay flat against the surface, her feet still on the floor. She knew her ass presented a perfect target and she gripped Emma's hands tighter and waited.

She heard the swish-swish of the cane cutting through the air as he tested it's cut and tears welled up in her eyes.

'Shhh,' Emma encouraged. 'It will be alright.' But they both knew it wouldn't be.

The first stroke landed and Sarah screamed and tried to pull her hands from Emma's grip. Emma held on tight knowing that it would only be worse if Sarah were not restrained. She cried and she tugged and still Emma held on to her, saving her ass from more pain.

Sarah stopped struggling as the white-hot pain subsided and she laid her head on the cool surface of the table.

'One,' she whispered.

The second stroke was delivered on top of the first and again Sarah struggled against her bonds. Emma whispered to her and tried to calm her as Sarah did her best to pull away. Sarah cried even harder and Emma used her voice to soothe her and again Sarah stopped.

'Two.'

And the cane came down for the third time and this time Sarah did her best to hold on to Emma, the one point of sanity she could see.

'Three.'

Again the cane cut through the air. Emma was crying too and still whispering words of encouragement as Sarah sobbed into her arm.

'Four.'

As the last stripe bit into her ass Sarah's scream echoed around the room. Emma still held tight to her hands, knowing that there was still more to come.

'Five,' Sarah gasped and slumped against the table, allowing her body to relax. His foot between her legs, kicking them apart did not alarm her, or the feel of Him pressed against her. He moved away and she felt her stomach stir.

The cane tapping against her inner leg confirmed her fears and the butterflies in her belly took flight.

'No,' she whispered. 'Please don't.' The tap, tap, tap continued. She could hear the sticky slap as it landed in what were obviously her juices and she blushed as he tapped her again.

He tossed the cane aside and stepped in behind her and she felt him guiding his cock to her cunt. He thrust himself into her, holding on to her hips to pull him further inside. She cried out as his body rubbed against her abused ass and she realised that she was about to come. Emma let go of her hands and held onto Sarah's face and she kissed her with both love and lust as the orgasm rocked through Sarah's body.

He slapped her ass and her cunt clenched and Sarah felt Him spill inside her, his body falling against hers and making her cry out again.

He picked her up and carried her to the bath and she sobbed as the water stang the welts. Emma washed her carefully, soothing the pain with the gentleness of her hands. When Emma had finished he carried her to the bed and stretched out beside her, pulling her to him to rest."

Sighs. I think I need to be fucked really hard.

Gosh I hope He comes home today.

Elissa (a different one) asked which blogs I read every day. To know which blogs I read everyday, you only need to look at the people who comment regularly on my blog. These are the women that reach out to me when I am sad and smile with me when I am happy and get aroused when I am bad. These are the women that I cry with and laugh with and love with. These are the women that I missed and wanted to come back and read.

I want them all to know that their words, both here and on their own blogs mean so very much to me. Thankyou all for letting me be a part of your lives. Let me know you are out there, I would like to read you too.

Emma. I am filled with her today. I woke this morning and turned to see her gorgeously sweet and innocent face sleeping beside me. I couldn't keep my hands off her and I kept caressing her cheek until she started to stir. I decided I had to get up then, because I really don't think Emma has been getting enough sleep of late so I want her to sleep in while she is here.

She arrived yesterday and announced that she was staying until Monday if I didn't mind. I grinned at her and helped her unpack a few things while we worked out a tentative itinerary for the next couple of days.

We went to dinner, and then decided that we didn't feel like going anywhere except home and we called it an early night.

Her hand was soft and cool on the back of my neck and her lips were warm and gentle. We kissed for a long time, tongues entwining and hands caressing while our arousal grew. I sucked her toes and made her squirm and giggle and she licked my nipples and made me moan. We took a long time to build each other to orgasm with our tongues and our fingers and some plastic cocks. When we both knew that it wouldn't take much more, we called Mac.

I put it on the speaker so that He could hear the both of us and we could both hear Him and He asked what we were doing and what we had done. We answered Him between the moans and grunts of lust and He told us what He wanted us to do.

He got us to sit facing each other with our cunts full of cock and to each stroke the other's clitoris while we kissed. He told us that if He was here He would kneel beside us and His cock would be hot against our cheeks and we would both turn and giggle and lick across the head of it, both wanting it inside our mouths. When He entered one of our mouths the other would try and squirm her tongue inside too. While He talked, Emma and I were kissing each other and telling Him how good we felt.

I came, then Emma came and then so very far away Mac came too and Emma and I were gurgling in delight. He called us wicked girls and scolded us as He still had work to do before He could sleep and now He was slumped. We giggled and told Him we were really sorry and He chuckled and told us that He loved us both and that we should both go to bed because He knew we would keep talking for ages. He said we were His good girls and that we had to take care of each other for Him and then He was gone.

Emma and I did talk and we giggled and we held each other. I told her that I loved her and she said that she loved me too and we fell asleep still murmuring about whatever came to mind.

Today Emma and I have all day to think of something even more wicked to do to Mac tonight. I am sure it will be something He will enjoy.

Hi.

My name is Sarah and I am a blogaholic.

I am serious! I am! I woke this morning suffering from severe blog withdrawal and I had race here to get my fix. Not just so that I could blog myself, but to check out those blogs that I read each day.

So where have I been? Well, it has been a hectic couple of days, about as hectic as they get around here. W/we got home and slept and woke to discover that Mac had to leave again. W/we hardly had time to talk before He left, the day spent throwing things into a suitcase and Him organising files. His laptop decided that it didn't want to work so that added another level of stress to things. Then I was taking Him to the station to do the train, plane, hotel room thing again.

W/we stood together at the station watching the people file past and waited for His train. I could think of dozens of things to say and they all just meant 'I love You' so I just held His hand and waited. As the train time neared He said that He had better go and I said yes and kissed Him on the cheek and said that I would miss Him and He smiled. I knew I was going to start crying and He looked at all the people around U/us and said 'fuck it' and wrapped me in His arms and kissed me.

It was one of those mind blowing, orgasm inducing, toe curling, finger tingling kisses that left me feeling my heartbeat in my clitoris. He was holding me up because my knees had given way and it took me a moment or five to compose myself when His mouth had moved from mine. He looked a little surprised at the intensity of it too.

'Well... that was nice,' said my Hero of understatement.

And I started laughing and He was chuckling and He kissed my nose and said 'Be a good girl, ok?' and then He was gone.

W/we are not sure when He will be back, hopefully it will be Monday, should be Tuesday at the latest. I was told to be a good girl so I won't whine about missing Him. Instead I will just let Him know I am thinking about Him in a very Sarah way.

"She kneels quietly at the windowsill and watches as the storm heads grow in anger outside. She feels the electricity in the air around her. She doesn't want to count the time He has been gone. It doesn't matter if it has been minutes or hours or days. She doesn't want to count the time until He returns, for she cannot be sure when it will be.

She wonders what He is doing and imagines Him the way she has seen many times before.

"He sits slouched in a huge chair, the way only a man can slouch, somehow managing to take up more space than should be possible. He wears chinos and a sweater, casual and comfortable and masculine. He seems oblivious to the things around him, totally engrossed in the world created by the book He is reading and yet, He feels her watching him. He looks at her and He smiles."

Lightening flashes across the sky and thunder rolls through the floor beneath her bringing her thoughts back to the present. He is gone and she misses him, even though she knows He will be back with her soon. She watches the rain fall and notices that the flowers rejoice. Even as the sky cries, the earth grows stronger. Somewhere inside herself, she feels her love for Him grow.

She knows that it is only a storm and storms strike with intensity, but pass quickly. She knows that soon this moment will be gone, but for now it lingers. For now, she bows her head, and allows her tears to fall."

I am being a good girl, Mac.

Really I am.

Taisha made a comment the other day that "Mac needs to open up a school where we can send our men for training". This made Mac and I laugh, as "man school" is Mac's favourite excuse for everything He does.

When He turned the washing pink, He said: "Men should always mix up colours when doing the washing, that way she will never ask you to do it again. They taught me that in Man School."

When I complain that He has hardly kissed me in days He says: "There isn't a woman on the face of the earth that has been kissed enough. They taught me that in Man School."

When He works His way through an entire loaf of bread at lunchtime He says: "A man needs to eat lots. They taught me that in Man School."

When He choses a lamb roast over sex He says: "The sex will still be hot later, the roast won't be. They taught me that in Man school."

But when a woman starts hitting on Him at the bar and I ask what He did to attract her, He says: "Raw animal sexuality. Some have it." And He shrugs.

W/we fly out of Turkey tonight and I can't say I am sorry to be leaving. I miss real food and real towels and Emma and O/our bed. It will just be nice to be home.

W/we didn't get to see the Alpha male again, the guy who ass fucked me at lunch the other day. There was just no time that W/we could get together so W/we had to let it pass. I was a little disappointed, I thought that guy would be a lot of fun to talk with as well as play.

Instead, last night Mac got me to lie naked on the bed, my knees raised and open so that He had an unobstructed view of my cunt. He then told me to masturbate and while I did He wove a delicious fantasy into my mind. His voice was soft and wicked and the only time He paused was to allow me to recover from orgasm before leading me into the next.

Mac told me He had been thinking about my Italian rugby player and I and this fantasy was how Mac imagined the encounter could have happened:

We sat at the bar, the Italian and I, side by side. His size made me feel so very small. The people that had been around us had drifted to the other side of the bar and although we could see them over the counter and could hear them talking and laughing we really took no notice of them at all.

He reached for something on the bar and his hand brushed across my breast and I shivered with lust. The bartender placed my drink a little too far away from me and as I tried to balance on my stool I slipped a little and my hand went to his thigh to steady myself. I felt his hardness throbbing beneath the material of his pants.

He teased and I blushed, he touched and I shivered, the arousal and anticipation grew. He purposely turned his hand over and brushed the back of his fingers across an already erect nipple and he leant towards me.

'Sarah,' he whispered in my ear. 'I want to come now.'
'Please,' I begged. 'Come inside me, please?'

He stood and moved behind me, lifting me from the stool and placing my chest on the bar. He shifted the stool and peeled my panties down to my knees. My breasts were pressed flat against the bar and my hands trapped beside them, balancing myself precariously so that I didn't fall. He took his cock from his pants and spat on his hand, rubbing it along his cock and sliding a finger into my ass.

He pulled me back a little, guiding my ass onto his cock. I could feel him press and press and my muscles relaxed, allowing him to enter as he pressed some more. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as he carefully lowered me onto his cock, taking my weight onto himself. He slid his hands beneath my top to hold my breasts, crushing them as he pressed me back into the bar for leverage. He used his hips to fuck me without thrusting, letting me use my muscles to increase the pleasure that he felt. His cock pulsed and his semen spilt inside me with barely a groan escaping his lips.

He withdrew and lifted me to balance on the bar once more as he pulled my panties back up into place. I looked guiltily at the other side of the bar, hoping no one had noticed us while he settled me back onto the stool and sat himself beside me. We smiled and we talked and we teased some more. I squirmed in my seat as I felt his semen pool beneath me in my panties and he asked why I was wriggling about.

I lent over and licked his ear and whispered that his come was leaking from me. He grinned at me wickedly and slid his fingers up my inner thigh, moving aside my panties to allow him access to my cunt. He rubbed his fingers through his semen and then over my clitoris, slipping and sliding across it and then inside me, then across it again.

I came and came again and I tried to maintain composure as I watched the people on the other side of the bar. He whispered that he was hard again and I took his cock from his pants and we caressed each other as we tried to look like we were just conversing like everyone else. I came again and he said he was ready and I dipped my head below the bar and took his cock into my mouth and I swallowed as he spilt inside me again.

It was at this point that Mac moved to the bed and knelt between my legs and told me I needed to take care of Him now. I sat up and stroked His cock with both hands and told Him of how I wanted the Italian to fuck me against the wall.

He was a full head taller and twice as wide as me and he pushed me back against the wall and lifted me with ease. I had to stretch my legs wide to get them around his back and I twisted my fingers into his hair to hold on. He shifted his hands to my ass and impaled me on his cock. He was brutal, viciously fucking me while he bit at my shoulders and neck and lips. I could hardly breath from the pounding of His body and the way my cunt was stretched around his cock. He grunted and growled, his body tense as he flooded my cunt with semen.

And Mac came all over my belly and pussy as I smiled and gurgled at Him. He pushed me back and laid over me, kissing me and smiling as I held His face between my hands and told Him how much I adored Him.

And now I have to pack because W/we are going home today!

I am sorry but I am so full of Him that you are all going to have to put up with a little bit of soppiness from me today.

This morning when He loved me it was so quietly and gently that it brought perfection to the day that I never dreamed to achieve. A gentle kiss without fuss and quiet words without drama, no pretence and no embellishments, just U/us and O/our love were all W/we seemed to need.

He held me and rocked me beneath Him as His body joined with mine and I ached with the joy of touching Him so deeply and the need to touch Him deeper still. Each movement, each whisper, each breath brought U/us closer together, entwining U/us further into the ultimate goal of being O/one. He whispered my name, His voice distorted by the pleasure coursing through His body, the word twisting as His semen was drawn from His body into mine. I held Him, caressing Him, keeping Him a part of me for as long as possible, trying to make my body memorise His.

He went to work, leaving me with the strangest impression of myself glowing. It is not a bright shine or a harsh light, just a gentle inner glow that even I wish to touch. It is a kind, peaceful, contented, warm light that could only come from someone who is entwined with the One she loves.

My arrogant Welsh rugby player, my gorgeously strong Dragon, my beautifully wild Fisherman, my Male, I used to think that today was another battle to face, another challenge to get through, another day to survive. Now I see it as an adventure to live, a moment to laugh, another minute to hold You in my arms and love You with everything I have.

Rwy'n dy garu di, Draig.

Rwy'n dy garu di.

W/we got back to the hotel room at 2am on Sunday morning and immediately fell into a discussion. Mac had tried to cheer me up with jokes all evening and it just wasn't working. I was tired and He was cranky and W/we should have just gone to bed, but I ended up doing something silly and asked Him to tell me that He loved me.

I know, I know, you cant ask for "I love you"s, they have to be given, as a gift, not demanded or whined for. If He had said it, even I realise it would have been a very hollow "I love you" indeed. Also asking for it like that tends to put Mac on the back foot and He just closes up. I know He does it. I should know better, but I asked anyway. So I was in tears and He was closed off and it wasn't going to get any better so W/we both thought it best if W/we just went to bed.

I woke kind of latish for me and I posted on the blog then jumped back into bed and snuggled up to Mac meaning to wake Him and I fell back asleep instead. When W/we woke again it was a rush to get to breakfast before the restaurant closed. Mac moaned about there being no bacon and complained about the beef bacon, which apparently tastes like the rubber sole of a shoe. I grinned and was generally in a good mood. I felt a lot better about being me.

W/we went back to the room and I did some things on the computer while Mac read a little of His book. It was that comfortable kind of being together that was just nice.

After a while Mac started to feel caged in and restless. He really is not a sit still type of person so I waited to see what He had planned. He was standing over at the window and He turned to me.

'I should go to the gym. Want to fuck first?' He asked.
'Well so much for seduction, but yes, let's do it.' I answered.
'See? It worked.' He shrugged
'Only because I know I am not going to get a better offer.' I shrugged back.
'Ok, forget it then. I should go to the gym anyway.'
'What?' I was shocked that He was taking me seriously.
'What.'
'Are You pissy with me now?' I felt a little afraid I had stuffed up.
'No. Are you pissy with me?'
'No, I was just kidding with You.'
'Oh.'
'So, um, want to do it?' I asked.
'Shut the fuck up woman. Get your panties off, get on the bed and you had better be ready for me.'
'Yes Love.' I managed to get out with my head bowed and a hidden grin on my face.
'And stop fucking around.' He scowled.

He had me pinned to the mattress before I could get comfortable and He entered me immediately. I shifted beneath Him trying to get my legs around Him and He thrust into me harder. I was already whimpering when He started to growl at me.

'I love that you are ready for me. I can tell you to take off your panties and spread your legs and you do. You are my bitch and I love that I can fuck you at any time. I love that your cunt is for my use. I love that your ass is mine to fuck whenever I want. I love that you are mine to use for my pleasure. I tell you to get on your knees and you take my cock from my pants and want me to come on your face, you make me come on your face and you love it. I love that you are my slut, my bitch. You are mine.'

My whimpering had deepened into the moaning of orgasm and as I came He ever so gently kissed my lips and softly whispered 'I love you, Sarah. You are so beautiful when you come.' And suddenly I was crying and He was coming. I wish I could capture that moment and put it in a picture frame so that everyone could share in how it felt.

W/we kissed a little and He told me that He loved that I do as I am told and He called me a good girl. He got up and went to the gym and I fell asleep snuggled up to His pillow and warmed by His words and His semen leaking from me.

At lunchtime W/we met a group of people downstairs. Like U/us, most had decided not to brave the icy weather and everyone had pretty much stayed in the hotel. W/we were talking to these people, the majority of who were American when someone asked Mac to slow down because His accent was too heavy.

I think most of the regular readers would have realised by now that Mac and I live in the UK. Mac is Welsh. Mac is really Welsh. Mac is so Welsh that other Welshmen ring Him to ask advice on how a Welshman should act. He is that Welsh.

Mac claimed that He didn't have an accent (He does) and that started a discussion on Wales and Welsh heritage. Mac mentioned that His great great grandfather had written a famous Welsh hymn and that Mac had once heard it sung at the Millennium Stadium by 70,000 people. I asked Him to sing it and the other ladies there ganged up on Him too. So He sang it. Not a single one of us had any clue what any of the words meant but it was sung with such feeling and pride that it touched us all. When He finished there was a resounding 'wow' and we made Him sing another Welsh hymn. Again it was just gorgeous and one of the men asked about the differences in Wales and England and Mac was quick to point out that in spite of His Welshness, He considered Himself to be British first. And before that He considered Himself to be a rugby player.

So if Mac were to describe Himself in as few words as possible in descending order, it would look like this.

1. Full Back
2. Rugby Player
3. British
4. Welsh
5. Male

One of the other ladies there said she would consider herself female first and American second. I gave it some thought and I had to agree that I would be:

1. Female
2. Australian.
3. Member of the Commonwealth.

(Yes I am a displaced Australian and yes, it does create some very interesting sporting conflicts in O/our home but it is always done in good taste and without bitterness on either side (thank god.) I have lived in the UK for quite a few years now, but I will always consider myself to be Australian. Mac has taught me to take pride in my birthplace.)

I kept thinking about my list of how I see myself all through lunch.

W/we were in the elevator heading back to the room so that Mac could do some work when I turned to Him and said that my list was wrong. I should have said:

1. His
2. Female
3. Australian
4. Member of the Commonwealth.

He smiled at me and touched my cheek and when W/we got back to the room He simply said 'I want to fuck you again now.' And I said 'ok' and He did.

Then last night while W/we were talking and I was giggling about something He had done and He was smiling at me laughing, He said 'I want you' and He took me again. Because He can.

I am His.

And I like it that way too.

This happened a few nights back, before the adventure, but with everything else that has been going on I haven't had a chance to post it. So I will post it now because, at least to me, it was kind of cute.

How Sarah's mouth gets her into trouble. And how it gets her out of it again.

It's 3am.

Mac is sleeping soundly. Sarah is not. She is thirsty and she wants orange juice. They have no orange juice in the hotel room. Sarah decides to log on to the computer to take her mind off the orange juice.

She checks her pager. Wench is there. They talk, they giggle quietly. Sarah tells wench she wants orange juice but isn't about to go wandering around a strange city at 3am. Wench says call room service, but Sarah knows if they knock it will wake Mac. Wench says wait in the hall for it. Sarah really wants orange juice.

She sneaks into the bathroom and uses the phone in there to call room service and she orders a big jug of orange juice and hopes that the guy taking the order's English is good enough to understand 'big jug of orange juice'. Sarah discovers the need to know how to say 'good morning' in Turkish.

Wench steps away to deal with pitter-patter. Sarah goes to wait for the orange juice. She gets the giggles over being in the hallway wearing Mac's shirt, waiting for orange juice at 3.30am. The room service waiter acts as if this is nothing new. Maybe it happens all the time.

Pitter-patter are dealt with. Sarah sips her orange juice. They talk some more before Sarah hears the sleepy voice of doom.

'Christ woman, what time is it?' Mac seems to be having trouble opening His eyes.
'Uh, well. It's um 4am now' Sarah answers sheepishly
'What the fock are you doing?' (He means fuck, but really, it sounds like fock.)
'Just talking to wench.'
'Oh.'(Moment of silence.) 'Well say goodbye, get your ass over here and take my orgasm in your mouth.'
'You want my ass so you can come in my mouth?' (At 4am Sarah really has an attitude.)
'Don't be a smartass woman, get over here and get over here now.'
'Yes Sir.' She salutes. (Sarah REALLY has an attitude.)
'Get over here or I will give you a smack in the mouth.' (Mac looks kind of almost serious in a horny sleepy tousled way.)
'Promises, promises,' Sarah singsongs as she crawls up the bed.
'What in hell's name were you and wench talking about at 4am?' (Mac has decided to ignore the 'promises promises' comment.)
'The state of world politics in the late renaissance period. What else would we be talking about?' Sarah smiles at Him extra sweetly.
'You are so asking for it woman.' (Mac is now wearing the evil wicked grin from hell.)
'What am I asking for?' Sarah enquires with an air of innocence. (Sarah really should learn to stop.)

Silence rules the room as Sarah discovers what Mac thought she was asking for. It is really hard to be a smart mouth when your mouth is being thoroughly fucked while hands use your hair to hold your head still. She gags and she chokes and still He fucks her hard. She reaches between His legs and slides the tip of a finger into His ass so that He will come. His orgasm is spectacular and Sarah doesn't have a hope in hell of swallowing all the semen He spurts inside her mouth. She cleans Him up with her tongue.

Sarah moves up the bed and snuggles into Him.

'I am thirsty.' Mac sighs sleepily.
'Want some orange juice?' Sarah asks brightly

Mac nods and Sarah gets Him a drink. He swallows it down and lies back, pulling Sarah to Him and He starts to drift off to sleep.

'Sarah?'
'Yes?'
'Where the fock did the orange juice come from?'

And as Sarah opens her mouth to tell Him He covers it with His hand.

'I think its just best if I go to sleep now. Not another word.' He tells her and she knows He means it.

Sarah giggles and Mac smiles and tucks her back into His arms and she watches Him as He falls asleep.

W/we are in Turkey right now. I have not been entirely myself of late so when Mac knew that He would need to be in Turkey for at least a week, He decided that I should come too. W/we didn't expect the blizzard though. So I am in a strange city, in a country where I don't speak the language, snow bound in a hotel.

The good news is Mac has spent more time with me than W/we thought He would, first because of the adventure and second because He was also snowbound for most of yesterday morning. Frantic calls from the office did manage to get Him a car for some afternoon meetings, but no one wanted to be out in it if they didn't have to be.

Mac didn't want me out in it at all. So I read and I watched some television and I wandered around the hotel a little. And of all things, I found a friend. Sort of. Well, I found someone to talk too. Tina is a nice woman, early 20's who is staying in the hotel with her partner. She was wandering around while I was and we started talking because there were not many others about. We ended up in the hotel bar/restaurant playing cards and sharing stories about how we ended up in Turkey in a blizzard.

Turns out she is the "other" woman. Her partner is an older married man. She often accompanies him on business trips out of town. Like Mac, his office had managed to find a car that would get him to the office so she was left to her own devices for the day. We ate dinner together since neither of the men had returned and she was quite a little bubble of chatter.

Then her partner came looking for her. I was shocked. He was completely different to what I expected. The way she had spoken about him I expected him to be a somewhat older version of Mac. Older was right, but this guy kind of looked like he was on the verge of a nervous break down. He was kind of creepy and really looked his age. That wasn't really what shocked me, I know when someone is in love they don't see their one the same way that others do. What shocked me was that she knew it. She was not in love with this man.

I told Mac this later on. He looked at me bewildered.

'She told you that?'

She hadn't told me any such thing of course. She had led me to believe that this man was her knight in shining armour.

'So how do you know?'

Because I saw the way his appearance in the room dulled her spark. Because underneath her warmth in greeting him there was a hesitancy in her kiss. Because suddenly her demeanour felt forced. Because I am a girl and I see these things. Because I know.

Mac doesn't see these things. He would have believed that Tina was madly in love because she told Him she was. That's not to say that Mac is naive. It is just that He is the type of person that doesn't dance around with airy-fairy words. If He says something He means it and it may not be what you really want to hear. It will just be the way things are.

Mac and I have different perspectives, different ways of viewing the world. Luckily enough O/our perspectives compliment each other. Because Mac keeps Himself firmly planted in the everyday world, there is no need for me too. Because I see the undercurrents of people's reactions, He doesn't need too. Because He believes in reality, I can believe in magic and adventures can happen.

I write about the adventures in the way that I see them and feel them happen. I know if they were written from Mac's point of view they would be completely different. I know there are things that go on that I am unaware of and Mac and I like to keep it that way, but I will say what little I do know in the hope of answering a couple of the questions I was asked.

The reward did come before the begging, probably a long time before. I don't know how long ago Mac started the organisation of the adventure and I really don't want to know, to me it started when He called and told me to be ready. These guys are not men that were picked up off the street. They are well-mannered, quick witted, intelligent men. When it comes to these adventures, Mac does His homework so that I don't have to be afraid and I am not left fucking meatheads that don't deserve to be fucked.

As for safe sex, again that is something I leave up to Mac. The men know the rules, Mac enforces them and never has He relied on someone else to provide the necessary equipment. Nor have W/we had any trouble. (Except for the time back in college when Mac picked up that woman who was hitch hiking. But that was before He and I were U/us and I shan't embarrass Him by mentioning that.) Sure W/we take a chance, but there is nothing that is 100% safe, so W/we protect O/ourselves the best W/we can.

Yesterday Mac got me to a stage when I was coming and coming and coming and couldn't stop. He got a call from work and answered the phone and my fingers took the place that His tongue had just left and I continued to come while He watched and talked on the phone. He finished His call and it was another ten minutes before I had calmed enough to be able to talk to Him.

Today I am just feeling detached and waiting for the day to finish. I know its only morning, but I really hope it is over soon. I know it is an adrenaline drop and I know it will go away, but right now I am just past caring.

Any one got a prescription for the post-endorphin rush blues?

So here I am, ready to tell you about my yesterday. I feel a little lost, a little achy, a little embarrassed at sharing this with you all. But Mac is right, I am bubbling with it. I want to share it and we all know I will.

It was only ten minutes after I had published the blog that He had called.

'Be ready' He said and my body shuddered as my stomach flipped over itself. 'I will pick you up at midday. Be dressed in the black skirt, a dressy blouse, black stockings, high heels and panties. No bra will be necessary.'

'Yes Love.' I answered, knowing He expected total obedience and though I ached to ask Him a dozen questions I stayed quiet.

'Good girl' He said. I could hear the evil grin in His voice. The phone clicked, He was gone and I knew He was enjoying my turmoil.

W/we entered the room at 12.30 and I marvelled at the way it was set up. I had been confused when W/we had pulled up outside, the building appearing to be some sort of office building in the middle of the city. Mac just smiled at my confusion and took my hand and led me inside. I followed and W/we had found the right 'office'. There were men standing around quite casually and a bar set up on one side. Buffet tables held a multitude of foods and some of the men were picking. There was a bar stool in the middle of the floor and it seemed to be the only chair.

The room had gone quiet when W/we had entered and I could feel eyes scrutinizing, appraising and I wondered if they approved of what they saw. I couldn't seem to raise my eyes to look back at them and Mac squeezed my hand and led me to the stool. He lifted me onto it and I hooked my heels over the bar at the bottom and steadied myself on the seat. He kissed me and asked someone for iced water and had it brought to me to sip on.

One of the men asked me a question and I answered it with one word. Then another question and I said something that made a few of them chuckle and I warmed to the room a little. Soon there was a banter going back and forth and I teased and flirted and giggled with them all. My nervousness was forgotten and I was thoroughly enjoying the exchange with these smart witty men.

Mac's voice broke through the laughter and the whole room seemed to stop for just a heartbeat.

'Undo your blouse, Sarah.'

Someone took the glass from my hand and I slowly undid the buttons, my insides turning over again as I did. Mac came forward and shifted the blouse open so that my breasts were on display. He ran His fingers lightly over them and whispered to me that they were beautiful and kissed my neck before moving away.

I faltered for a moment, unable to raise my head and meet the eyes of the men around me but Mac was right, my body is beautiful and I was sure these guys had seen many breasts before. I looked up and realized that the room was pulsing with lust. Eyes that had sparkled with laughter now glittered with desire and my cunt clenched knowing that the lust was for me.

A man came forward and lent over a little to lick at my nipple. I cupped my breast to make it easier for him and I think I may have moaned. Then another came forward and my other breast was claimed and I reached down to run my hand over their groins as they sucked and licked. Soon both my hands were full of their cocks and I played with them, kneading and squeezing and jerking. I spat in my hands to make them slick enough to slide over the cocks and I knew as I did that Mac's cock had throbbed. One of the men pulled my skirt up my legs so that when he came it was over my thighs and my stockings, and then the other did the same so that my stockings were striped with semen.

'Take her panties off,' Mac ordered and I was lifted so my hips left the stool while my panties were shimmied down my legs. When the next two moved forwards, one of them pushed two fingers inside me while he bit at my breast and the other played with my clitoris. I jerked them both, using my own wetness on my hands for lubrication. I screamed when I came, two more men holding me up as my breasts were sucked and marked. More semen was added to that across my thighs and the room stank of sex.

When the next guy came forward with his cock proudly erect I moved so that he was between my legs. All I wanted was to please him. All I could think of was making him come. One of my hands went to the back of his neck, pulling his mouth towards mine as the other hand took hold of His cock and guided it towards my cunt. He growled as he entered me and I bit his lips as he thrust in and out of me. I hooked my legs over his hips, hanging on to him for support as the stool rocked beneath me. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, raping it as he fucked me harder and harder. I came, whimpering and moaning and he came furiously, his body shuddering as his cock jerked inside me.

He pulled from me, his cock glistening with juices and suddenly I wanted him again. He moved away and another stepped in to take his place and just as suddenly I wanted him. I fucked him, and then another and another and each of them were different. They tasted different and they smelled different and they felt different inside me. They made different noises when they came and I loved each and every sound knowing that I was responsible for each one they uttered.

I was aware of things being said around me, words and phrases like 'whore', 'delicious slut' and 'nice tits' caught my ear but most of it faded into the background as each man was brought to climax in my arms.

Then another came forward and I recognised him as the male that had spoken first and I reached for his cock but he pushed my hand away. He lifted me slightly and shifted me to the very edge of the stool and I was instantly frightened and my eyes searched for Mac amongst the men. He was watching me closely and when I looked at Him, He smiled and nodded that it was ok. This man directed two others to stand behind me and he lifted my legs and tipped me back and I realised what he meant to do and my eyes searched for Mac again.

This time Mac seemed to be questioning if I was ok and I knew that I was. I wanted to be ass fucked, I wanted it to hurt like I knew it would, I wanted it to be this man that did it. I smiled at Mac and He smiled back and I let Him slip from my mind as this mans cock pressed against my ass. My legs were resting up his chest and the two men behind me supported my back. His cock pressed and pressed and pressed and filled me and pressed some more. He fucked me with the finesse of someone who knew what he was doing. It was rough and hard but it didn't cause the pain to rip through me the way that I thought it would.

'For fuck's sake, will someone suck on her tits?' he ordered and two men came forward to comply and he reached down and rubbed my clitoris and made me come then made me come again. I was sobbing by now and he pushed the two men away and lent forward to suck and bite on my tits himself and leave me with bruises that are visible today. He growled and grunted with the effort of his orgasm and I stroked his cheek as he came.

Mac came over to me then and told me it was enough but I knew there were still two men that hadn't come. He relented and allowed me to kneel on the floor and take the last two in my mouth, offering that anyone who wanted to come over me while I sucked on a cock was welcome too. By the time the two men had come I was dripping with semen from other men.

Mac helped me to my feet and led me to a small bathroom off the main room and He helped me clean off most of the mess. He told me I was a beautiful slut and He was very proud of me and that I had pleased Him very much.

W/we went back out into the main room and I knelt by Mac's side while the men came up and offered Him their thanks and compliments and I let most of it slide over my head, not really thinking at all. The last to leave was the guy who had fucked my ass and I heard him tell Mac that he would be open to getting together again. My cunt throbbed.

W/we left then. A cab was waiting for U/us when W/we walked out the door and I gratefully snuggled up next to Mac in the back seat. I stared at Him and after a while He frowned and asked me what was wrong.

'You haven't used me.' I said.
He laughed and pulled me down so that my head was lying on His lap.
'No, I haven't. But I am going to.'

I started to cry.
'What's wrong?' He asked again.
'I want You to fuck my ass. I need you too.' I was sobbing again.
'Oh baby,' He gently stroked my hair. 'I am going to. You are Mine.'

When W/we got back to the hotel He made me climb on the bed and present my ass to Him. He was rough and loving, vicious and gentle, He bit my neck and my shoulders and He made me come again and again and again and then He came too. He held me while I cried myself to sleep. Somewhere in there I had mentioned the blog and after He had slept a while He got up and read it while I was asleep. He did some work and ordered room service for dinner and woke me up to eat.

W/we talked about nothing and I can't remember what I said but there was something that made Him throw His head back and laugh and I have never loved Him more. I ran U/us a bath and W/we sat in it together and Mac told me a story about His childhood that I hadn't heard before.

When W/we got out W/we pulled the room's only chair over in front of the window and I sat on His lap sipping orange juice while He enjoyed JD with lots of rocks. He asked me if I would like to see the guy who ass fucked me again. I buried my face in His neck and told Him that I would. He said that He would arrange it. W/we are here for a week. I asked if He minded if W/we saw him again and Mac grinned at me and told me He was happy that there was someone worth me fucking.

'It's only sex, Sarah. Just sex.'

I giggled at Him and agreed with Him and slid from His lap to my knees and I told Him I wanted to show Him how it felt when it was love.

I took His cock into my mouth and His knuckles went white as He gripped the armrests on the chair.

And today I wish W/we could do it all again.

I pointed out to Mac that it has been a long time since W/we had any "adventures". I pointed out to Mac that I have been a good girl. I pointed out to Mac that I like "adventures". I pointed out to Mac that I like them a lot. I pointed out to Mac that it has been a long long time since W/we had any adventures. He looked at me quite sternly and told me that if I mentioned it again it would be a long long long time before W/we had any "adventures".

I haven't mentioned it since, but secretly I hope it is soon.

I really wouldn't mind sucking on this ones penis while jerking that ones cock over my tits. I wouldn't mind having that one fill my cunt while this one bites my neck and the other one calls me a slut. I wouldn't mind being fucked to a point beyond all sanity and reason. I wouldn't mind hurting. I wouldn't mind pleasing. I wouldn't mind being His dirty little cum-whore. I wouldn't mind being His slut.

He told me once that He would like to sit me on the edge of a table, skirt pushed up, blouse unbuttoned so that my breasts were on display. He said that He would like to watch as His whore pleasured a line of impatient men. He would like to see the way I wrapped my legs around each one and slipped my tongue into their mouths and made each one spill his semen inside me.

He told me once He would like to tie me to a table and offer me up to the room for $5 a fuck. I would be unable to use my hands or my legs. I would be nothing but an object to come in or on. He said He would like to see me used like the whore I am. And when the last man was done with me He would stick the money to the semen on my breasts and leave me to find my own way home.

He wants to fuck my mouth while another man fucks my cunt.

He wants to fuck my ass while another man fucks my mouth.

He wants to fuck my cunt while another man fucks my tits.

He has done it before and He wants to do it again. And I want it too. I want it now.

He asked if I was ovulating two days ago and I told Him I wasn't. I am sure that I wasn't I wouldn't lie. It is not time for me to be ovulating yet. But damn I am horny. I can feel the need in my fingers and I want. I want bad. At the very least I need to be fucked long and hard.

Would it help if I begged?

Please Mac. Please?

She watched Him walk away and could not feel sad. He had taken His pleasure in her and she could still taste His spunk in her mouth. She thought about how she had held her cunt juice covered fingers up to His mouth as she sucked His cock and how as she had, He had spurted hot thick pulses of semen into her throat. She looked at her fingers and she wondered if she was still wet. Quietly she snuck her hand into her pants and was surprised at just how wet she was. Her cunt throbbed and pulsed beneath her fingers and she wondered if He would mind if she pleased herself. She thought on it a little and thought that if she did, then told Him about it, maybe, just maybe His cock would pulse and His balls would fill and He would require her use again.

She lay upon the bed on her back with her knees raised and her legs open. Her fingers found her clit immediately and the heat from her cunt amazed her. Her stomach clenched and she could feel even more juices flow from her. She thought again of how big He had been standing above her as she sucked on Him. She thought of how His cock had filled her mouth and how it had pulsed and throbbed and leaked within her. His balls had felt so full and warm and ready to spill inside her. She remembered the way He had growled and spurted, her mouth overflowing as she sucked all the spunk she could from Him.

Her fingers sought out the semen that had leaked from her mouth and landed on her breasts. As one hand held her cunt open, the other took His come from her tits to her clitoris and pressed His seed against her, rubbing it in. She moaned softly and raised her hips slightly and wished for His teeth to be against her clitoris as His tongue raped her. Her fingers slid easily inside her cunt and she contracted against them. She was so wet. She arched her back and let her fingers find her clitoris again, abusing it with her nails, caressing it with the length of her fingers, pinching it to make herself moan.

She thought of times He had required her to pleasure Him before. He had filled her ass and pulled her against Him so His balls lay against her cunt. She had cried and He had fucked her harder and she had wanted Him harder still. He had bitten her neck and His fingers had pinched her nipple and she screamed and come and come again. Her breasts now ached, her nipples swollen with lust. Her own fingers found them and covered them with juices as they pinched and teased and made her cunt contract.

She thought on how He had whispered to her last night before they had fallen asleep, 'always, all ways' and she thought how He had surprised her with an 'I love You' before she had taken His cock today. Her body tensed and her cunt contracted in hard spasms as the pleasure rolled from her groin into her hands and feet. She grunted against her fingers that refused to let up on her swollen throbbing clitoris. She arched her back and her fingers dug into her cunt and she felt her come ooze around them. She lay on the bed, exhausted and pleasantly sated, knowing that as she told Him of what she had done her own arousal would return.

I watched Master and Commander last night. I kind of got an early copy of it and watched it at home because if Russel Crowe is running around with a sword, I want to be watching him somewhere I can relieve tension. I adore him. He is such a rough arrogant male that I get squirmy just thinking about him.

Mac was excited that I was finally going to see it, He saw it a month or so back while He was away. He was telling me about the history behind it, the other books that are yet to be made into screen plays, the changes that were made to make this movie more palatable for the intended audience and when He had run out of things to say I said 'it also has Russel in it with a sword, right?' Mac sighed deeply and shook His head in mock disgust.

There is some history between Mac, Russel and I. Mac was away in Hong Kong five or six months back and as it was a three days of flying for two days in Hong Kong and He was going to be working I decided not to go. I got a few DVDs to watch that I had somehow missed when they came out. Amongst them was Gladiator.

Mac paged me on yahoo just before I was about to put the movie on. He was going out to dinner. Being the sweet girl that I am I told Him that I was feeling the stirrings of arousal in my belly. I also told Him that I was about to watch Russel Crowe and that I thought the stirrings may become much more pronounced. He laughed and told me that Russel was really a big girl and that there were rumours that Russel even did housework! I mentioned that it really didn't bother me that Russel did housework so long as he knew how to swing that sword. There was more banter about Russel being girlie and more comebacks about the fact that I intended to masturbate the whole way through the movie. Then Mac had to go. He said it would be a long dinner and that He was sure He wouldn't be able to get back on. He was sharing a room with a colleague and so phone sex was quite out of the question.

So off He went to dinner with the thought that His girl was masturbating with Russel Crowe. And masturbate I did. I played with my clitoris, buried my fingers inside myself, trailed my juices to my nipples and to my mouth and back to my cunt again. I held myself at the edge of orgasm until I couldn't hold it any longer. Then I came. I am not sure how many times I came or for how long but I was filled with thoughts of kneeling in the dirt before this huge male and making him my own. I wanted his cock thrusting in my mouth, his hands holding my hair and his semen dripping from my chin. I wanted him hard and relentless. I wanted him to tear me apart and devour me with lust. I wanted him to fuck me harder than I have ever been fucked before.

I love my body. I love that it can bring pleasure to others and pleasure to myself. I love the shape of my curves and the softness of my skin and the beauty of my secret places. I love the way that it feels and the way it smells and tastes. I love that it is not something I have to be ashamed of. Mac takes a great amount of pleasure in my body and He likes it that I take a great amount of pleasure in it too. He encourages me to touch myself, explore my fantasies and to tell Him what feels good. In this house masturbation is not a sin that needs to be hidden. It is a pleasure that W/we share. I like that. I like that a lot.

Mac paged me some three hours after he had said goodnight and I was still crying from the way Gladiator ends. He had meant to go straight to bed but He wanted to know if I was still masturbating over the "fat girly boy" Russel. I told Him that He was just jealous because Russel had been the one to see me lying on the couch with my legs spread wide, my fingers deep inside me, while I writhed and moaned with the exertion of orgasm. Mac seemed to want to come after I said that. I asked if He would use the privacy of the shower to take some pressure of His balls and He pointed out that it would be of no relief, and that He wanted me to take it from Him. I would be expected to be ready and available when He arrived home.

Master and Commander did not excite me the way that Gladiator did, I am afraid. A little too much navy and ships and not enough swords but it was a good movie about men. Still, I did manage to borrow a copy of Gladiator on DVD as well and I didn't watch it yesterday. Mac has already left for the city for a day of meetings and He wont be back until late tonight. That leaves me here, alone, all day. Well alone except for Russel, and perhaps that dildo that Mac and I chose simply because it was proportioned similar to Mac's cock.

Mac will probably read this in London some time today and when He arrives home He will expect me to pleasure Him too.

Somehow I think I will manage.

Two entries back Mac and I had a little discussion in comments about Greg and the fisherman. I said then that I would explain about the fisherman and tell the story so that's what I am going to post about today.

I wrote this story after Greg had left me for the other woman. I was scared and felt very alone. I wrote it about the Man in my life that was always there for me during times that I was hurt and the times that I cried and the times that I fell down hard. If you read the long version of it you will know that I had watched Mac hurt and had wanted to take away His pain and I wanted to bring Him happiness. You will see that I adored Him from afar and kept Him in my heart and more than anything else I was scared that He would see me and He would know how deep my love for Him was.

And that's where it gets complicated. Once I had written the story I was very proud of it. It was the first thing I had actually ever written that I felt I could show people, so I did. I showed everyone I could think of, except Mac. I was petrified He would see straight through me and say 'Sarah, this is about me.' If He did that, I thought I would die.

No one saw the connection though. They all knew me well and all loved it and all said I should write more, but none of them saw me in the story, or saw Mac in the story and I thought I had hidden it well enough to show Him. I emailed it to Him one day and waited on edge for Him to reply. I was scared that He would like it and frightened that He wouldn't like it and when He replied I couldn't breathe. He knew.

I then did the only thing I could think of doing. I lied. I told Him that it wasn't about Him, it was about Greg. Greg was my fisherman. Months later, after He and I were together, He told me that when I had said it was Greg He had spluttered and choked and thought, 'who cares, it was a stupid story anyway,' and He had pushed it aside and not thought about it anymore. And I was in a silly place where I couldn't admit I had lied so I let Him keep believing it was Greg.

I didn't tell Him the truth until W/we had been together for 11 months and only then because I got scared that something would happen and He would never know. I asked Him to promise me that no matter what happened between He and I, He would keep the story in a safe place and show it to His grandchildren and tell them that it was written for Him. He smiled at me and told me it wouldn't matter if He lost it, I would have it somewhere and He would just get it off me.

I was joking with Him in comments when I said the fisherman was Greg. I guess that is one thing that is still too close to the surface to joke about. I want Mac to know that there is only one fisherman in my life. He is the Man that I have loved from the first moment He smiled at me. He is the one that has let me dance when I needed too and cry when I couldn't find the beat. He is the one that saw the fairy inside of me and told me she was beautiful. He is the one that encouraged me to fly.

The link will take you to the full story of The Nymph. Those that have been through my archives may have read it from my very first post.

Posted below is a shorter version for those who don't feel like clicking the link. I don't think it is as good as the long version, but still it will give you the idea. I hope you enjoy it.

The Nymph

The nymph landed soundlessly on the window frame. The cool night air blew around her naked form as she effortlessly tucked her wings behind her. A trickle of water leaked from the jet black curls that surrounded her face and ran unnoticed over the swell of her breast, hanging from a pert nipple for one delicious moment before falling to the sill in front of her. Lithely, she moved forward to the edge of the window. The smells of the indoors invaded her senses, dust, soap, perfumes and more. Her mind quickly sifted through them, isolating and discarding each until she found the scent she was looking for. The smell of him. Closing her eyes, the tiny sprite took a deep breath, allowing her body and mind to be engulfed in his scent. How wonderfully wild he smelt. A creature of nature, tamed to this world of humans but never so at home as when he was out in the woods.

That was how she had first seen him. Standing in the cold water, a strange pole in his hands. His face at peace. She had watched him for a long time, seen him jerk the pole, and heard the fish cry out. She had known then what he was doing, and even as her heart went out to the fish, she knew that nature's way was for one to die so another may live. His obvious delight in his catch had made her smile and that had been the beginning of her obsession.

She stepped from the edge of the window into the air without forethought, her wings spreading behind her, holding her steadily. His rhythmical breathing was the only sound in the room. She flew towards the sleeping form, his face barely visible above the top of the sheet. A smile played about her lips, she was not always lucky enough to find his face uncovered. She did not understand his need to cocoon himself against the world when he slept, but she accepted it as one of the many things she would always find curious about him.

Floating above him, she stared at him, devouring the lines of his face with her eyes, wanting each to be committed to her memory for later inspection. The rise of his nose, the pout of his lips, the soft curve of his cheek. She wished that she could watch him like this forever, but already the water was calling to her, she knew she could not remain away from her life source much longer. Carefully she lowered herself onto his pillow. Boldly she reached out and touched his cheek, marvelling once again at how the soft skin of his cheek gave way to the course texture of the ungrown beard. She allowed herself to touch his cheek again, before taking flight once more. Landing lightly on his chest, his heartbeat thundered through her tiny form. She revelled in this a moment before once again extending her wings to float above his face.

Darting in quickly between his breaths she kissed his lips, then the tip of his nose and finally she placed a tiny kiss on each of his sleeping eyes. This was her time with him, for these few moments each day he belonged totally to her. She knew the foolishness of her actions, they could never be together, their worlds were so far apart, a distance that could never be travelled. And yet she could not stop coming, anymore then the wind could stop blowing. He was her secret, no one else would understand the love she felt for him. Once more she floated above him, the call of the water was louder now, she had been away long enough, it was time to return to her real life, her fantasy over until the next time she visited. A tear, no bigger then the point of a pin, fell from her eye and landed softly on his cheek. Instantly his eyes flew open and she found herself falling into the depths of the deep blue eyes that studied her intently.

He blinked, and she was gone. He stared at the space his dream creature had inhabited. He smiled at himself. She had come again during his sleep, as she did every night. A perfect creature, one that loved him deeply and watched over him intently. He knew she was just a figment of his own imagination, and yet he could not help but adore her as if she was real. He did not share his dream with anyone, they would not understand the way in which this creature had become real enough for him to feel the touch of her hand upon his cheek. Turning over, he pulled the covers up over his head and hoped he dreamed of her again as he slipped back into his sleep.

A world away she dove into the water, unafraid that he had seen her, for she had seen love in his eyes. Surrounded by her bedding of water she slipped peacefully into her own dreams, knowing that soon the time would come for him to belong to her once more.

My hair was still dripping from my morning shower when I heard the knock on my door. I wrapped a huge towel around me and went to see whom it was. I looked through the spy hole and was surprised to see Him standing with His head down avoiding the rain. I dropped the towel and opened the door.

'Hello gorgeous,' I purred as the wind swirled around U/us, making my nipples form stiff peaks.
'Do you always answer the door this way?' He growled as He drank me in.
'Well I was waiting on my lover, but he stood me up.' I sighed deeply. 'Still, I expect You will do in a pinch.'

He grinned at me. That evil wicked grin that no one else ever sees. That grin that says 'you are mine and I am going to do what I want with you'. That grin that both heats and moistens my groin.

'Shall I come in?' He asked as He stepped across the threshold and closed the door. His hair dripped and His clothes were wet and He looked at me evilly again. I realised what was on His mind just a second before He reached for me and I turned to run. His fingers caught my hair and He spun me easily, pulling me into a freezing embrace while I screamed and squirmed and shivered. He laughed and kicked apart my feet while He still held me and somehow one of His cold hands found it's way to my clitoris and I came with His teeth on my neck as I still struggled against Him. My knees buckled and He held me tight, chuckling while I called Him names. He released me when I had steadied myself and I looked at Him reproachfully and He laughed as He started to undress.

'I didn't come all this way to have you pout at me, girl' He grinned.
'Really? Then why did You come all this way?'
'Why do you think, slut?'
'Hmmm,' I smiled mischievously. 'Perhaps it was to come on my face?'

He groaned and I helped Him out of His rain soaked pants. Falling to my knees in front of Him and caressing His gorgeous cock. He growled at me to lick His balls and I did. I loved Him and jerked Him and His semen was hot against my cheeks. He ran His finger down my face and through His come and brought it to my mouth to suck.

The phone rang and W/we both sighed as Mac grabbed for it. He grinned at me and whispered 'telemarketer' and I gasped as the conversation continued. When He got off the phone He told me what was said on the other end and I was giggling like crazy.

Mac: I am sorry I can't really talk right now. You see my girl was really horny and I have just made her come.
Telemarketer: Oh. I see. Well, uh, sorry to interrupt.
Mac: Oh that's ok. She was actually finished but I think I might do it again. It's really quite easy.
Telemarketer: Well, um, carry on then.
Mac: Yes I think I shall. You should see her. She is blushing very prettily right now. You have a nice day, ok?

When W/we had both finished laughing He turned to me and said 'Let's fuck now,' and W/we did.

It was an hour so later when W/we were in the shower that I thought to ask Him what He was doing here. He said the day's meetings had been cancelled though He still had to go to dinner last night. He should have worked but all He could think about was me so He drove two hours in the rain to have me. He had to turn around and drive two hours back for dinner and another meeting in the morning would keep Him in the city overnight.

I got out of the shower before Him and stood at the mirror running a brush through my hair. He stepped out behind me and watched me appraisingly and I smiled at Him in the mirror. He reached around the front of me to feel the weight of my breasts and I shifted back against Him and wriggled my ass against His cock. I felt Him stir and His eyes narrowed and I grinned at Him and did it again.

'Insatiable cumslut,' He growled at me and I giggled as I felt Him grow hard. He slid His cock between my legs and my fingers reached for it, pulling it up into my slit. He groaned as I stroked it, sliding Him gently along my cunt, using the semen and my juices that still leaked from me to lubricate His cock. He came nosily and messily all over my fingers and I rubbed His come into my clitoris and I came again too. He held me tightly and I revelled in the feel of His strong arms around me. I felt so precious and so loved.

W/we ate and I dragged Him to bed and made Him sleep off the sex before He had to go back. I helped Him dress and I walked Him to the door and I held up His coat as He slid it on. He turned to kiss me goodbye and I pulled Him against me, crushing me between Him and the wall while my tongue invaded His mouth. I inhaled His scent deeply and I heard Him when He said He had to go but I held Him a moment longer not wanting to forget the way He feels. He untangled Himself from me and stroked my cheek and told me He would be back tomorrow and I knew it was true and still I wanted to hold Him some more. He smiled at me softly and I knew He felt it too.

So He will be home again today, after lunch and I can hardly wait until He is.

I wonder if that telemarketer will ever ring back again?

I was speaking to an ex-lover of mine a few days back. Greg was a guy that I had been a friend with for about a year before we got involved and it was one of those relationships where we really should have just remained friends instead of ever fucking.

I started seeing him on the rebound from the relationship with my first master. At the time I had very low self-esteem and was suffering from depression. Greg was very soft and gentle and loving and we would spend hours together lying on the floor listening to music or talking about books or movies or playing games. We played scrabble and battleship and sometimes we would go out for a game of pool.

We rarely held hands, we rarely kissed and we rarely had sex. Mac thinks that is quite bizarre with me being the insatiable sexual creature that I am. The reason that Greg and I didn't have much sex was very simple. Neither of us wanted to make the first move, so, more often than not, we would both be frustrated. After the relationship had ended Greg told me that he had wanted to fuck me constantly but was never sure when I wanted to so he would hold back. The funny thing is that I would gladly have given him whatever he wanted. He just had to tell me.

He started cheating on me in the third month of our relationship and although at the time I was hurt very deeply, I can understand now that it wasn't a reflection on me or the love I gave him, he just wasn't getting what he needed from me.

It wasn't that the sex we had was bad. It was always gentle and soft and satisfying. It was the type of sex where every touch is a caress and every movement, every breath, is an act of love in itself. We would lie together for hour after hour just touching and kissing and taking pleasure in each other's bodies. After we had both come I would stay beneath him on my tummy and he would stay inside me as long as he could and we would giggle and murmur and he would sometimes sing to me and it was gorgeous. Then the next time we saw each other it would be back to that awkwardness of not knowing what the other wants and we would go without sex for another two weeks.

The girl he ended up leaving me for was very well known for her sexual appetites. She wasn't picky about who she slept with and she grew bored very quickly with any man in her bed and so two weeks after he left me, she dumped him and moved onto some other male.

He didn't try and come back to me. I am grateful for that because I am not sure I would have had the strength to deny him, but it was over. Sadly so was the friendship. It was just too hard to be friends again. It was after I broke up with Greg that I went into a nine-month period of celibacy and the next man I slept with was Mac.

Greg and I kept in touch tentatively. Every couple of months or so I hear from him and he tells me how things are for him. When I first started dating Mac I got a lot of jealousy from Greg that I tolerated because I know it isn't easy to know an ex-lover is with someone new. I also tolerated the 'so want to fuck for old times sake?' type thing from him because I knew he was hurting over Mac and I.

Surprisingly, Mac has always encouraged the friendship between Greg and I. Mac feels that Greg makes me feel needed because Greg needs mothering and Mac is happy to allow it to continue. I have often told Mac that I have no feelings at all left for Greg and wouldn't care if I never heard from him again. Mac always just smiled and nodded in that frustrating 'yes dear' way.

The other day Greg rang me to tell me he had hurt himself in a motorcycle accident. At the time he was riding in just a shirt and jeans, sneakers on his feet and no helmet. He was lucky. All he had done was broken bones in his foot, his left elbow and his right hand and taken skin off a large part of his back. My reaction to this news shocked me. I got angry with him. How dare he endanger himself like that? I asked him if he even realised that there were people that cared about him and would miss him if he were dead. He replied that there was a chance his son would miss him and that's when I really lost my temper. I yelled at him that if he really believed that no one but his son cared then he didn't deserve to have anyone else care. He didn't say much after that and I hung up in tears.

Mac pointed out later that Greg had actually been fishing for me to tell him that I cared and instead of the comfort he needed I had yelled at him. Greg had scared me, because I realised that I did care about him and I didn't want him to not be a part of my life anymore and I needed time to let myself to adjust to that. I don't love him like I love Mac. I don't even love Greg the same way I used too, but I do love him. He is a good friend that I happened to share some very special times with. I know that he and I will never be really close again, even as friends, but he does have a place in my heart.

I think it strange that it is so hard to tell the people I love what I really feel. I wish that I could take back the anger and just say to him 'I care'. I left a message for Greg on his voicemail but I haven't heard back from him yet. In it I apologised for calling him an idiot and told him that he had scared me and that I would miss him if he died but it isn't the same as that first reaction I had. I know that it is what Greg will remember. I have always said I am no good at personal conversation. I tend to say things before I think. I wish I didn't. I wish I could stand back and distance myself from the emotions I feel and control myself better than I do.

Mac is away right now. He left yesterday morning and won't be back until Saturday sometime. He didn't read yesterday's blog until late last night so I woke to a message on my yahoo messenger saying:

'You were right, slut. It was hot.'

I hope that whatever He does today, He takes thoughts of me with Him. I want Him to ache for His slut. I want Him to need me to relieve the pressure in His balls. I want Him Sarah horny so that even if He masturbates it won't be enough to satisfy His cock. I want Him to need me so badly that the only thing on His mind on His way home is throwing me to the floor and fucking me until I scream. It wouldn't take long. I am in a very takeable, fuckable, screamable mood, as usual.

I miss Him. His touch and His smell and His gorgeous smile and the 'Hello you' that I get each morning. I miss His cock and I miss pleasing Him and I miss kneeling at His side.

I know it's only a couple of nights, but somehow, it always seems too long.

I can feel the cool night air on my naked body as I stand in a dark alley. My hands are tied behind my back, the gag pressing against my tongue, forcing me to breathe through my nose, a blind fold making the darkness complete. Time passes. Thoughts swell. (Where are You? Am I alone? Who will find me? How long have I been here? Has it been a minute? Ten minutes? Surely it can't be more than ten minutes? Was that a sound?)

My body tenses, I can feel the wetness from my cunt running down my thighs. My breathing feels loud in my ears as my breasts rise and fall, my nipples swollen. It's footsteps, definitely footsteps, shoes scuffing against the concrete path. Adrenaline is pumping through me. I can hear blood rushing through my ears, my clitoris throbs to the beat of my heart.

The footsteps draw closer and stop. I want to scream, but the gag means I can't make a sound. (Is it You, please let it be You? What if it's not You? What is he seeing? Does he see a slut that is aching to be fucked? Touch me. Please touch me. I want to be fucked. God, he may hurt me. Hurt me. Please let him hurt me.) Whimpers escaping from the gag. I can feel You so close to me, Your eyes burning me where they touch my skin. (Is it You?) I don't know if it is You. (Fuck me. Please fuck me.)

A hand grabs me roughly around my neck, cutting off my breath for just a moment before turning into a caress of my breast. A nipple pinched harshly, the gag disrupting the gasp that tries to escape me. My body shivers. 'Slut' he growls harshly. (It could be You.) A hand slides between my slightly parted legs and feels the hot wetness there. 'Whore' he growls harshly. (It may not be You.)

Hands force me to bend at the waist. My legs part to keep me balanced. I can't use my hands to support myself. I hear the zip of pants, the freeing of a cock and I shiver again. (Yes, he is going to fuck me. I need it. I need to be fucked like a filthy whore.) Huge hands on my waist holding me still while my cunt is impaled on his cock. (Whose cock? FUCK, who cares?) Body aching, stretched, shuddering with impact. (Harder, fuck me harder.) Sliding in and out so slickly against the cunt juices that soak my pussy. More wimpering. (Air, I need more air.) 'Fucking slut' he spits venomously. 'You love it whore.' (God, oh god. Please god.) Now. My cunt contracts rhythmically against the intruders cock. Knee's buckle.

'Stand up you whore, stand up slut' Hands in my hair, pulling my head back, keeping me on my feet. Tears are soaking the blindfold. (More, I want more.) The pounding doesn't stop. I ache with each shove into me, each pull out of me. It hurts. (I hurt. Harder, please harder. Again. God yes, again.) Now. (Don't dare let myself slump. Not enough air. Christ.) I am convulsing. (HARDER, PLEASE HARDER. Push into me harder. Make me scream, make me hurt for days. Please oh god, please?) Grunting from behind me. (He is going to cum. Make him cum. YES make him cum.) Squeezing him with my cunt feeling him swell. Pushing against him. More grunting. (Milk him. Squeeze harder. Harder.) His cock spurts. (Yes. Yes. Yes. Suck at his cock.) Grinning as he collapses against me, the path biting at my unprotected knees, the pain sharp as the concrete claims some skin. His breath harsh and fast in my ear, hands moving to expose my neck from under the heavy curtain of damp hair. His lips tasting the sweat on my skin, his teeth biting, bruising, breaking, making me cry out. Now.

Feeling Your cock slide from me. (It's You. It must be You) Pulled by rough hands to Your lap. (I knew it was You.) Relief floods through me that it is You. Your voice whispers in my ear 'My sweet gorgeous slut, my delicious girl, I love You angel. You please me.' My head rests against You. 'Now darling, my sweet girl, there are others waiting that want to use you too.' My body tenses, cunt throbs and contracts at the very thought. 'Do you want them, whore?' My nipples have stiffened and my throat is thick with want. Slowly I raise my head and silently I nod. I hear You chuckle. 'Good girl.' You whisper. 'My beautiful girl.' And Your lips softly brush my cheek. (I am Yours. All Yours. That's all I need to be.)

The thing about writing is that people will take what you have written and lend to it their own personal experiences and their own feelings at the time and may come up with something that wasn't what you intended to write. I love that. I love knowing what other people see in things I write and unlike the teachers I had in high school I don't believe there can be a wrong interpretation, just different ones.

In the comments on yesterday's post, danae said that "Having the caning fantasy happen to me in real life...well something very similar...you can be put back together if the person breaking you down...loves you. If not then you are just a thing and they don't care if they can put you back together."

Maybe danae is right, this could work for someone, it may satisfy a need in him or her and they could come out of it a better person. But for me this fantasy was written from a point of self-loathing. It was not an exercise in trust or in care, it was written from a desire within me to be punished. It was not carried out by someone I care about or someone who cares about me. It was because I hated me so much that I deserved to suffer and die.

I know in the fantasy I didn't die. I know that at the end of it there was an orgasm that many people would have seen as pleasure, or forgiveness or care, but when I wrote it the thought in my mind was that the French call an orgasm a 'petit mort' which translates as 'little death'. There is a point at which even in writing, I start to scare myself and there is a line I will not cross, so I chose a 'little death' as symbolic.

The fantasy was not meant to be a reflection on anyone else's life, or on anyone else's practices, it was not meant to be safe, or sane. It was not meant to be a reflection on BDSM. Neither Mac nor I define O/ourselves as BDSMers. When Mac read the fantasy He was concerned that people would think that this was a part of U/us and was something that He would do and was quick to point out in comments that it was not.

He understands where I was coming from and He understands that it would destroy me and that there would be no coming back. He understands that I can hate myself and allow myself to hurt that much. He knows that hurting me when I feel like this would go very very close to killing me. His instinct to protect me overpowers all else when I feel this way.

There are times when W/we will have rough sex, when He will use me for pleasure, when He will slap me and call me names and drag me around by my hair. But this is at times when my arousal is heightened and at times when I feel over stimulated by the pleasure of the world, it is at times when I am feeling good and it frees me to feel even better.

Last night He pulled me onto His lap and asked if I still wanted to be beaten. I grinned and told Him that I would probably burst into tears if He looked at me the wrong way. He laughed and told me some jokes that had me giggling and I snuggled up with Him while W/we watched a history program about a heap of guys called Norman who were running around conquesting all over the place, (at least that's what I think was going on, I wasn't really concentrating).

When W/we went to bed He stroked my back and tried to ease my ache. I loved Him for the laughter W/we had shared and the care He had taken. When I murmured thankyou through a haze of sleep, He answered me with 'My pleasure' and I believe that it did please Him to take care of me that way.

I know that it shouldn't, but sometimes it surprises me that He loves me too.

It really is too precious for me to forget.

My breasts are sore and my tummy hurts and I feel like I am carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Mood swings are a bitch and I am one too and I just don't feel like being nice right now.

I am doing a good job of self-loathing because it's too hard to resent Mac. I know He is doing what He feels is best for me and for Him but I also know He doesn't understand. I told Him last month that He just doesn't get that there are times the need I have to hurt gets so strong that I want to rip the skin off my own body just so I can feel.

I know there are ways I can do it. There are things I can do to make myself hurt that He would never know about, never see. But I am a good girl at heart and I would know what I had done and would have to tell Him. I have caused Him enough pain for this year already and I don't want to hurt U/us again.

So now I wait, counting off the minutes, knowing soon will be the time for Him to wake. If He can't hurt me then I need Him to hold me and until He can do that I sit here alone and inside I bleed. I love Him that much.

I know that by the time He reads this, I will be fine again. I too know that this passes as my period arrives. But if I had a choice, right this moment, this is what I would want right now.

"Her cuffed wrists hung from a hook set into the ceiling above her head. A cool breeze travelled over her naked body and puckered her already hard nipples. He walked around her with the arrogance of one in total control and her eyes followed him, needing him and hating herself for that need.

He smiles at her softly while as he cups one of her breasts. 'This is going to hurt' he whispers and she sees the dark desire that lies behind the mask he wears. It frightens her but still she needs him and she lowers her eyes unable to hold his gaze.

He moves around behind her and she can hear the swish of the cane as he sweeps it through the air. She knows he is teasing, taunting her with the awfulness of what it is she desires so much. He touches her back with a gloved hand and she flinches away from him in fear and he laughs at her obvious discomfort. Her hair is wrenched backwards and her neck twists painfully and he whispers gently in her ear.
'You belong to me now and you should be scared, because I want to see you break.'

She tenses herself for the first blow but it still comes as a shock when it lands. The pain bites much deeper than it has before and she finds herself gasping for air. The second blow lands so close to the first that the two pains meld into one. The third follows so quickly that she is not even sure she feels it but the forth reminds her it was there. She expects a fifth but it doesn't come and she wonders briefly if that is all. He hit her harder than she expected and she didn't scream and she takes some pride in that.

Her tensed muscles start to ache and she carefully relaxes them and barely has time to tense again as she hears the arc of the cane come down on her ass again. This time there is no respite as blow after blow cuts into her skin and the grunting of his effort fills her ears.

She opens her mouth and her scream escapes her and she knows that he wont stop. She begs and pleads with him between gulps of air and he increases the strength of the strokes in reply. She screams again and her knees buckle, her wrists now taking her weight. He stops, moves around in front of her and grabs her hair, pulling her up and yelling at her to stand. She manages to lock her knees into place.

He looks at her with mild interest on his face, like she is something to be studied and he releases her hair and tucks his hand under her chin, keeping her head up.

'What's your name?' He asks casually. She blinks and tries to understand.
'S... sss sarah.' She stammers and is somehow not surprised when his gloved hand strikes her cheek, forcing her mind to rock sickeningly inside her skull. He pulls her head back by her hair again.
'YOUR NAME IS DIRT. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, SLUT? YOUR. NAME. IS. DIRT.'
He caresses her cheek before tucking his hand under her chin again.

'What is your name?'

Sobbing, she raises her eyes to meet his and she takes the deepest breath she can, filling her lungs with air.

'SARAH' she screams and she winces, tensing to take the blow.

He throws back his head and his laughter echoes around the room and she knows that she is going mad. He raises the cane and she doesn't care, she knows that this isn't real and he can't hurt her now.

With the first stroke on her tits she realises she was wrong and the pain she feels is real. He strikes her again and again on her breasts, her stomach, and her thighs. It hurts so much more than she has ever hurt before and she never wants to hurt this much again. She screams until she has no voice and the cane keeps biting into her flesh until her knees give way once more. He tosses aside the cane and the gloves and his fingers caress her welted flesh.

'What is your name?' He asks again as his hand spreads open her cunt and his fingers find their way inside.

'Dirt' she whispers in utter defeat and her orgasm overpowers her with its force."

Mac is a born storyteller. He really can't help Himself. He is really good at it and can have a room in stitches over something a family member said or did when He was young. Like the time He and His cousin sold His grandmothers cherries. They didn't think they had done anything wrong, because she only told them not to eat the cherries, she didn't say anything about not selling them. And the time He got alcoholic poisoning on a school field trip at the ripe old age of 14.

His favourite stories to tell are the ones about His grandfather. I never met Mac's grandfather. He passed away when Mac was 16 but Mac has spoken about him with such colour and humour that I know that I would have loved him. I do love him. He provided Mac with a foundation on which to become a man.

Mac is a rugged rough rugby player with a mouth on Him that would make a dockyard whore from Hull blush. He can be loud and self-confident (arrogant) and He is very scary when He is angry. His temper is quick and fierce but thankfully short lived. He is strong and tough and rarely lets anyone get close to Him.

But one of the things that His grandfather told Him was "there is more to being a man then just being male" or, Mac's translation of it, "there is more to being a man than having a penis." He can laugh at His arrogance and He can be quiet when someone needs Him to listen. He can be gentle when someone is scared and be patient when someone is confused. He curbs His anger when dealing with people He knows cannot take the full brunt of it and often He can turn an ugly situation into a joke.

I remember a night when a guy at a bar started to make fun of Mac for some obscure reason. Mac was in a fun mood and this guy just kept making snide remarks until Mac turned to him and in a menacing voice said to this man 'Before you make any more smartass remarks about me, there is something you really should know about me pal.'

The guy looked at Mac and said rather snidely 'Yeah? What's that?'

'I cry very easily,' Mac answered rather sheepishly and hid his face against my shirt. Even the guy who had been taunting Him had to laugh.

Just when people think they know the measure of this rough tough arrogant male He will surprise a room full of people by calling His mother's cats "the grand old ladies." He will shock everyone by saying that His favourite time is the silence that comes after the snow. He will startle everyone by publicly apologising when He has made a mistake and He will accept an apology with grace and never mention the incident again. He does it all without realising the effect it has on the people around Him.

I know that Mac is blushing deeply as He reads this so I will just say one more thing before I stop. Mac is the type of man that His grandfather would be proud to call a friend. I can't give Him any higher praise than that.

W/we had a really lazy Sunday. Emma called and said she was tired of working and she just wanted to spend the day in front of the television and wondered if Mac and I wanted to watch some DVDs. Mac said W/we could so long as they were not girl movies so I whispered to Emma to get one movie with guns in it knowing that Mac was hardly likely to sit still longer than one movie anyway. He told me to tell Emma to wear her camisole and panties that match mine. She said she already had them on.

I took the spare beds mattress into the family room and rearranged the furniture so it would fit on the floor in front of the television. Mac watched me organise pillows and quilts somewhat bemused. Every time I walked past Him I would mention that Emma was coming over, just in case He had missed it the 35728 times I had told Him before. He told me I was like a little girl whose best friend was coming over to play and I would have argued with Him, only He was right.

Emma arrived and we snuggled under the quilts and ten minutes into the first girlie movie Mac decided He needed to go to the gym. By the time He got home Emma and I had watched the first movie and eaten some popcorn and spent some time gently making each other come. We were snuggled up together naked and content and somewhat sleepy so Mac showered and joined us in the makeshift bed and W/we put the boy movie on. Emma was lying tucked up against Mac's left side and I was tucked up against His right and I was holding Emma's hand across Mac's chest. As I drifted off to sleep I thought how wonderful it is to be loved and I hoped that Emma and Mac felt it too.

Emma spent the night again. Mac watched the Super bowl, which didn't finish over here until something like 3am so Emma and I kept each other entertained in the bed on the floor. Mac frowned at us giggling and mewling and purring but we both knew He didn't mean it and He enjoyed our half-time show so much that I am still not sure how He managed to stay awake during the rest of the game.

They are both still fast asleep in O/our bed. Emma woke long enough to call in sick and Mac told me last night not to bother, He would deal with whatever came up when He woke.

Now it is time for me to go back to bed too.

I think it is going to be a good day.

Have you ever had really bad sex? I mean really really bad sex? The type of bad sex that leaves you thinking that you will never sleep with that person again? I have.

I don't mean with Mac. With Mac it may not always be perfect (though most of the time it is) but I never finish fucking Him and think, 'oh, that was disappointing.' At the very least I think 'YUM!'

There was one guy in my past that I did have bad sex with. I have often thought about why it was bad and wondered if it was my fault, or his, but I think it was neither. We just should never have done it.

His name was Glen and we had been dating a month and there had been some pretty heavy petting sessions. He was a little older than me, 21 to my 18 but as we were both living at home, privacy was a luxury. He worked late most evenings so I pretty much only saw him once or twice during the week but we would spend most of the weekend together. On the fourth weekend, his parents had gone away and I planned to stay overnight. It was going to be THE night.

We ate dinner and we watched a movie and it was all very strange and uncomfortable and I possibly should have feigned illness then and gone home, but I kept thinking that it was just first time nerves for us. It would get better once we were in bed. Eventually I made the first move and said I was tired and asked if he wanted to go to bed. He said ok and led me to his bedroom. His bedroom. Single bed.

Ok. Now I can understand that people have hang ups about sleeping in their parents bed, though I never suffered from them myself. Yes I had sex in my parent's bed. Yes it was good sex and yes I always washed the sheets before they got home. So, single bed it was. I started to get undressed, just taking off my shoes and suddenly there was darkness. Complete, pitch black, can't see my hand in front of my face darkness. Spooky.

'Uh Glen?'
'Yes?'
'I can't see you. Can you turn the light back on?'
'Oh. Uh. I would like it off. Your eyes will adjust.'

Ok. I was now rather confused. Do I keep getting undressed? Fully naked? Should I leave a shirt on? Bra and panties? I could hear Glen getting undressed but I had no clue what to take off and leave on. In the end I decided to play it safe and left my shirt and panties on, but had slipped off the bra. I stumbled towards where I thought the bed was and crawled in beside him, noticing that he had left his shorts on. Whew. Leaving the shirt on was the right move.

We kind of squished together on the bed the best we could. Then silence. Nothing moved. Nothing touched. Nothing spoke. I waited a little longer. Still nothing. So I kissed where I thought his mouth was and I was more or less on target. We found a rhythm and it was starting to feel nice. I was stroking his body and He was touching mine and I could feel his erection against my thigh. We managed to get out of the clothes we still had on without falling out of the bed and I went to move over him but he said no and he moved over me.

Ok. No problem. Missionary position is often best for first time sex, its close and loving and can feel quite good, especially if the girl raises her legs and wraps them around his back.

'What are you doing?' He gasped in surprise.
'Putting my legs around you.'
'Well. Don't.'

Ok. Legs back on the bed. I tried to kiss him and he pulled away. I moaned and he asked me to be quiet, he couldn't concentrate. (Concentrate? On WHAT?) By now I had given up any hope of the sex between us getting any better. It was over quickly. I kissed him and thanked him and told him it was nice. He didn't say much. I felt rather awful. I tried to go to sleep. Really I did try, but I got this thought in my head that it had just been nerves, and now that he had actually come, if I could make him hard again it would be better. Right? I mean it couldn't get any worse. Could it?

Yes. It could get worse. I did get him hard again and it was a repeat performance, only this time he was in no hurry to orgasm. So I was laying there, on my back, feet on the bed, hands on his shoulders allowing him to pump away at me, feeling nothing. It was late and I was tired so I did something that I would never believe that I could have done.

I fell asleep. I did! I don't know if I drifted off for a long time or if I just had a little micro sleep but I suddenly woke up and the words were out of my mouth before I even knew they were coming.

'Aren't you finished yet?'

To his credit he managed to finish off and he stretched out beside me and promptly fell asleep. I didn't know if I should apologise to him or not because he had given no indication that he had heard.

We dated for another month and half and I made sure that we never had the opportunity to have sex again. Now I am sure that there are women out there that would find that perfectly adequate sex. But not me. I love to see the other person, touch the other person and to me sex is the act of joining together, not something shameful to be done in one position in the dark. I know women who think it is and if they are happy with that then so be it, but I just couldn't bring myself to go through that with him again.

We were incompatible in bed. Which really should have come as no surprise. The man loved cars and I can't tell a Peugeot from a Ford Prefect and my idea of a perfect Sunday did not include cleaning mag wheels with a toothbrush. He didn't read (I love books). He didn't understand the movie 'Hunt for Red October' (which I thought was brilliant). Clint Eastwood was his hero (if I had to watch one more Clint Eastwood movie, I was going to scream). He didn't understand the things that made me laugh.

So why was I dating him? Well, see, my mother adored him. She thought he was wonderful. She set us up and she was just so delighted that we were dating that I didn't want to break her heart. I slept with him thinking that would make us a part of one another and everything would be alright from there but that was never going to work. You either connect with someone or you don't. You can't force it and when it doesn't happen, its only fair that you let it go. I knew that he loved me and a part of me loved him too. He was really a gentle sweet kind giving man and I didn't want to hurt him and so I allowed us to keep seeing each other for another six weeks. I hated myself for it. It wasn't fair on either of us. In the end, I had to tell him it just wasn't working out. I never cried over him though, I never felt the need and to me it just proved that finishing it was the right thing to do.

With Mac it is just so different. W/we laugh at the same jokes, W/we love the same movies (except Lord of the Rings, I love it, He thinks its boring) W/we read the same books (except He refuses to read Harry Potter). W/we even love the same art and adore the same kind of women. Neither of U/us cares about cars, so long as they are reliable.

When W/we have sex, the connection between U/us strengthens and entwines U/us together. When He woke yesterday He wanted it sleazy and sluttish and W/we both came quickly. W/we lay together afterwards talking and laughing until Mac said He wanted to come again. This time it was soft and loving, with my tongue in His mouth while I slowly jerked Him against my tummy. He had wanted to come inside me but as He reached orgasm I didn't want to let Him go, I didn't want Him to move and He didn't want to either so His semen sprayed across my belly. It was deliciously warm and loving.

It was less then 40 minutes later as W/we were passing each other in the hallway that I reached out my hand and caressed His arm. He stopped to kiss me and I undid His shirt to feel His chest and He lifted off my shirt so my breasts could press against Him and then I was jerking Him again and He was taking His sticky semen from earlier off my belly and rubbing it into my clitoris. W/we were next to the bedroom door, perhaps six feet from the bed and neither of U/us made a move towards it. Mac leant back against the wall and let me love Him with my hands and kiss Him over and over while His fingers played over me. He growled into my mouth when He came and He held me up when I came and still it wasn't enough.

Mac picked me up so that my legs wrapped around His waist and my arms wrapped tightly around His neck and He carried me to O/our bed. He lay between my legs and held my pussy open, taking long slow licks of the inner lips until I came again. Then He let my pussy close and He ran His fingers over it, covering me in a film of U/us and I came again.

I reached down and held His face in my hands and I asked Him if I could kiss Him some more and He crawled up over me. While I licked U/us from His face He entered me and I wound my legs around Him and W/we kissed and kissed and W/we came while He was deep inside me. And then W/we came again. I held on to Him and kissed Him for so long that I almost forgot how to let Him go.

W/we met up with a couple of friends for lunch and one of O/our friends exclaimed that W/we had an aura of sex about U/us. I looked at Mac and was surprised to see just how content and at peace with the world He looked. He was glowing and I realised that I must look the same way too.

Last night as W/we climbed into bed Mac complained that His lower belly had ached all day and I pointed out that the five orgasms He had might explain it.

'Five?' He asked.
'Yes. Five.'
'Christ, no wonder it hurts.'

I giggled at Him and He pulled me to Him and kissed me and I kissed Him too. While W/we were still kissing I felt Him grow heavy with sleep. I told Him that I wanted to kiss Him all night while He slept and He said that would be ok with Him. He slipped even closer to sleep.

'Sarah?' He murmured.
'Mmmm?'
'Love me as much tomorrow, ok?'
'No, Baby, I wont. Tomorrow I will love You much more.'

He smiled and said thankyou and He took the final steps towards sleep. This morning I woke next to Him and I was completely full of Him. The feel of His skin, the way that He smells, the sound of His breath and His heartbeat. I watched Him sleep for the longest time and I kissed Him softly and smoothed His hair gently and made sure that He didn't even stir.

Mac? I love You more today.

And I promise You that I will never stop.