Kneeling before Him...



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Monday, January 24, 2005

A girl should be careful what she hints at because she might just get it.

Last night Mac found time. He was hungry, starving in fact and I turned out to be just what He wanted to devour. I was definitely a whore for His use and He refused to stop until He was satisfied. I began to think He would never be sated. It went on for hours.

And I am not sure if I came harder at His hand on my throat or His teeth at my tits. I don't know if it was His cock in my pussy or being ass fucked that caused me to cry out the most. I can't remember how often He came or how many different objects He fucked me with. I can't remember what He said or what He meant other than the repeated words of 'slut' 'whore' 'cunt' and 'bitch'. If I protested, He slapped me. If I screamed, He slapped me. If I tightened my muscles and begged for His orgasm, He came again. And again.

When He was finished and was lying beside me trying to catch His breath, my hair was tangled and matted with His semen. My throat ached and my mouth tasted of His come. My cheeks were red from His hands. My tits were bruised and swollen from His teeth. My stomach ached from the repeated orgasms and the tightening of muscles so infrequently abused. My pussy felt hot and swollen and my ass burnt. My wrists were chaffed from where they had been bound and unbound again. At one point He had made me cup my hands so that He could fuck them too. No part of me went unused. My body glistened with sweat, spit and semen and my own come. When I looked at Mac, He was glistening too. His hand grasped my thigh possessively. He was in no mood to let go.

I somehow managed to wriggle my way closer to Him even though I really didn't want to try to move too much. Aches could wait to be explored. I made it over to Him and gently kissed His cheek. He looked at me and smiled.

"You are simply gorgeous." He said. I didn't need anything else. He filled me.

We fell asleep with the scent of sex filling our senses until some time in the middle of the night. The cold forced both of us to wake. We showered together and He kissed all the places that still looked red and we washed each other all over with soapy hands just so we could enjoy the other's touch. We changed the mucky sheets and went downstairs together to have a snack of cheese, toast and juice, talking quietly, touching frequently, making love with our eyes. Then we went upstairs and climbed back into our bed. Mac wrapped Himself around me tightly. I am not sure if it was ownership or for protection against the world, perhaps they are both intertwined. He held me and He kissed me and He told me that He still ached, as did I. He listened as I whispered silly girlie secrets, the type that only lovers get to hear. As I grew heavy with sleep I watched His eyes slowly close.

I bit Him then, just gently, only just enough for Him to feel.

"What was that for?" He mumbled, hardly roused from His impending slumber.
"Because I wanted You to have my mark too."

He smiled then, a warm sleepy smile that followed us both into our sleep.

Today I have woken tired but content. I am sore and bruised in places that I didn't know I had and I grind myself into my chair just to feel it ache some more. It brings back very pleasant memories of last night. And Mac is complaining that His stomach aches and that His cock feels a little raw. As many times as it was inserted in as many places He forced it into, I am surprised He has any skin left on it at all and He declined my giggly offer of "just a little blowjob?" I have a feeling I will pay for that when He is up to it. I am already looking forward to it.

The thing is, sex like this should make me feel like I never want to fuck again, but it doesn't, it leaves me thinking about what comes next. I want Him again, not right now, but soon. I need the feel of Him inside me filling me again. If He tried to fuck me right this moment, I would claw and spit and bite. I am way too sore to let Him inside me again, but even that makes me want for Him to try. I would like to be forced to surrender to Him. I would like it to burn when He won. I would tangle my fingers in His hair and beg Him for His orgasm just once more because never will I ever get enough.

So yes I am content, filled and fulfilled, but later I know I will want more. I am already planning how to get it. Sometimes I think you all should feel sorry for Mac.

Then again, as He says, it is what He sticks around for.

Posted by Sarah McBroden at 7:09 am

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