Sexuality Happens

I was out drinking boba tea with my derby wife when Q texted me.

“Still want to bang?”

“Of course.  Come over.”

“I can only stay till 10.”

“Fine, I’ll have you home by 10…pumpkin.”

I looked at my lovely derby wife.  ”Three hours? What the fuck am I supposed to do with three hours?”  I had been planning for six or seven, and I hated having to condense my plans like this so last minute.  She looked at me.

“Um. Have sex? And then you could kill time with a movie?”  She didn’t get that my complaint was that three hours wasn’t ENOUGH as compared to it being TOO MUCH.  I grumbled a bit more about having to fuck on my feet, and headed home to meet Q.  We played a bit of tag as I went to the front door and she to the back, and then reversed, but finally, I had her inside.  Two to three minutes of small talk later, I was slowly trying to undress her.  Trying was the key, because she wears layers like they’re going out of style, so it’s much easier to just pull everything off at once. However, I’m trying to stop looking like the 15-year-old hormonal boy who just wants to fuck, and actually be more sensual. Right.

“I’m kind of tired, so I’m not going to top you tonight. Unless you want me to. I mean, what do you want me to do?” She referred back to this ongoing conversation we’d been having about her topping me. I didn’t think it was feasible, she holds that it is, and so this play date was supposed to have been a fight for the domination.  But you know, if someone is asking you if you want them to top you, it’s usually a sign that they’re not in a top mode. No sweat, I had it covered.

As I took the last of her bloody layers off, I discovered a giant bruise on her chest. “What the fuck is that from?”

“You.”

“No fucking way.” We hadn’t hooked up in a week and a half, and I was pretty sure I’d remember leaving a bruise like that.  Guess not.  She asked me to be a little more gentle, and no biting for the night, and I acquiesced.  I like having people want to come back – hurting them when they were tired never did anyone much good in that case.  I picked up a pair of police issue handcuffs, safely putting one key on a necklace around my neck, the other on my key chain.  Bringing her hands in front of her, I cuffed them.  See, I had thought ahead. I wanted her to wear them for sometime, but I also wanted her to have used of them. 

Pushing her up against my pantry door, I started to play with her incredibly sensitive nipples. “So I put your hands in front of you for a reason.  Can you guess what that was?” She was already so distracted by me playing her her. “Hey! Hands. You. Think it through.”  Perfect – she started playing with me through my jeans.  I was brilliant.  Till I realized her jeans, shoes, and worst of all, SOCKS, were still on.  I told her to figure out a say to take them off.  The punk tormented me by threatening to keep her socks on, and I told her fine, she was welcome to stay handcuffed with her socks on in my kitchen all night, at least till ten. The socks came off.

I teased her a bit more, then took her to my bedroom, lying her on her back on my leopard print sheets, her hands cuffed together above her head.

“Mmm. You look good against my sheets.” She laughed. “No, really, you do. You know, that’ a requirement. Match my sheets, and get along with my cats. Otherwise, you’re out.”  She told me she understood, and complimented my sheets. If nothing else, Q is a quick learner.

I continued to play with her…pinching, twisting, licking, nibbling and sucking her nipples, coming up to kiss her every once and a while. She moved her hands. “Every time you move your hands, that’s one more orgasm you’re going to have to give me.”  Nodding, she moved them back…but a few moments later, they were down again. “That’s two.”

We got to chatting. I like chatting during sex…I mean, when you have marathon sex sessions, keeping quiet would just be creepy.  She had told me that her chest bruise had almost acted like a cock block on her trip to NY. I used that information now to my advantage. “So, you got laid in NY then?”

“Yes.”

“How many times?”

“Just one.”

“So you’ve gotten to come more recently than I have. I think I should add one to your total.  That’s three times now. And you know, you were supposed to make me come once already, so that’s four.  You have to make me come four times before you get to come.” I am so fucking brilliant. She is one of those people that takes a while to come, and can only come once in a pretty long period of time. I don’t take very much time at all (especially after the first one, and now that she knows how I tick), and can come in the dozens of times.  Ergo, I employed fucking math, and currently, it was at a ratio of 4:1.

As this was going through my head, I had started to play with her cunt. God, she gets so god damn fucking wet, and it’s one of the hottest things ever. I’m talking like seeing her drip, and watch more ooze out of her to replace it.  I understand that she’s just someone who gets really wet, but in my mind, I see it as me really turning her on, and then that turns me on, and god DAMN.  So here I was stroking her cunt and playing with her nipples, and watching her squirm as I was trying to be all vanilla like, with out biting or pain or anything.

“So, you have to make me come four times.  Do you want to do it all now, get it over with, and just do the rest as they come up, or do you want to intersperse them, or do you want to wait until you’re just about ready to come, and do them all then?”  She looked at me for a second, and then her eyes closed again in pleasure. I hadn’t stopped my ministrations of her cunt, and was now very lightly rubbing her clit.  I love making people make decisions like this, especially when their brain is somewhere completely different. “Hey! I asked you a question. I mean, I can keep doing this, but you’re not going to get to come until I do at least four times, so you should probably answer me.”

“I can’t think right now. I mean, wait, can you repeat my options?” I laughed, and did.  She was so out of it already. I fucking love fucking Q. Mucho fun.  She’d keep starting to move like she was going to fuck me, and then get distracted, and go right back to lying on the bed, my fingers teasing her cunt.

Finally, she shook herself out of it.  ”Ok, I’m going to fuck you.”

“Great! Oh yes, I want you to do at least the first one with the handcuffs on.”  She looked a little put out at first. “Didn’t you say you enjoyed a challenge?”

“Did I say that?”

“I thought so. But I mean, if you don’t think you CAN get me off with them on…” I goaded her.

“I can do it. Fine.” She told me where she wanted me, and I oh-so-helpfully moved my cunt towards her.  Watching and feeling her try to kiss me, and play with my breasts while still holding herself up, her hands bound together by metal, was ridiculously hot. As was seeing her give up on foreplay, and begin to fuck me, the cool metal hitting my skin as it contrasted against her warm hands.

To be continued…

-Essin’ Em