It’s too bad that I don’t have a fetish for dirty linens because that’s what we faced when we arrived at our rental cabin – nothing had been cleaned. Dirty towels sat piled at the foot of the bed, which was rumpled and obviously not fresh. The thermostat said it was 50 degrees. It was late at night and Harold and I had driven for miles to get there. Not to be discouraged, we tossed everything into the wash, turned on the heat, and snuggled up on the couch.
I had gloried in fantasies of what we would do when we arrived, what manner of depravity I would inflict on Harold. I had lovingly packed our toy bag with needle-play paraphernalia and an assortment of rope. Harold’s breath caught in his throat when I told him of my plans to take him – I would tie him up, blindfold him, put in earbuds with a special playlist, overload his senses, bring him to the edge of orgasm over and over, put needles in sensitive places, come on his face while he was helpless…
But it wasn’t to be. At least not that night. It’s funny how things work. I have such an active fantasy life. Being able to imagine pleasure is awesome, as long as I don’t get too hung up on things happening exactly as envisioned. I’ve learned to trust my instincts. Going with the flow of erotic energy is always very rewarding.
When we woke up the next morning, the attraction between us was practically magnetic. We don’t wake up in bed together very often so it felt kind of amazing, maybe like waking up next to your favorite movie star crush. We smiled and gazed at one another in adoration. The room was still cool, but we explored each other’s bodies under the safety of three comforters. He tied me to the bed.
I’m not sure how we manage to know each other so well and still surprise each other with the things we do in bed. Harold can bring me to orgasm in minutes. He knows exactly how much pressure to apply and where. He knows when to tweak a nipple hard or how to make me beg for the vibrator. This time, I asked him to talk dirty to me (not a usual request) and he knew exactly what I wanted to hear, how to make me come hard around his fingers with his words and conjured images. I am lucky to have this experienced lover who is happy to excite me with new experiences.
Of course, it goes both ways. I meant to draw out the erotic sensations of sexual bonding as much as possible, but sometimes fucking just feels too good. I was just going to tease a little with penetration. We moved between positions and I stayed in control, not letting either of us climax, until he got behind me. I love being fucked doggy-style. This time I even had the vibrator on my clitoris. I knew I was fast approaching orgasm and I was beyond caring. Harold told me he was about to come, but by the time I was able to process that information, I was spasming around his cock and then he lost control.
It’s difficult to feel disappointed in an orgasm like that. I am always amazed at how powerful it is to peak together. I expressed some regret over not being able to torment him more and he said, “You could milk me into my mouth.” Uhhh…what? He explained that I could massage what was left of his ejaculate out of his prostate and into his open mouth. Like he would rest on his shoulders with his knees near his ears. And catch his own jism.
I love my life. We waited a bit. We ate breakfast. I painted his nails purple. We took a shower together. Always, we talk and talk. He gave himself an enema. I tied off his balls and we played around with some ball torment.
When it felt right, I told him to get his ass in the air. It took a bit of positioning, with a pillow behind his shoulders, but Harold is flexible enough to position his cock over his face. (Have I mentioned how hot that is?) That left his asshole vulnerable to my lubed finger.
I enjoy prostate stimulation very much. Harold obviously gets pleasure out of what I do – just a firm stroke with a slightly curled finger. I have milked the semen out of him before. It makes me feel powerful to take his seed without granting an orgasm, but one of my favorite things is bring him to orgasm while doing prostate massage. What we did yesterday was like the best kind of sexual circus acts.
As I stroked Harold’s prostate, big fat drops of semen fell and he caught them in his mouth! Best trick ever. I wondered if he would be grossed out or humiliated, but he wasn’t. He sometimes longs for a boyfriend to go down on. If it were possible for me to love him more, I would!
We managed to fill the weekend with more sex and good times. I may have come enough in the past couple of days to make up for how sparse things have been in the past few weeks, but as much as my pleasure is a priority for me, Harold’s trick of coming into his own mouth totally wins as my favorite moment of the weekend. Things may not have turned out the way I hoped they would – I think the mischief we came up with was better!