“I want to wrap this around my dick,” my spouse said, touching the fat pad of my vulva, just above my slit. We were lying in bed together, post-cuddle.
I laughed. “What do you think it is? Some kind of dick cloak, a jacket, or a hotdog bun?” I asked.
Then we were both laughing–I love laughing in bed.
“No, I think it’s an amazing cunt,” he said.
“Sounds accurate,” I said.
I imagined his dick wearing a cloak–purple, thick, and velvety. Pagan dick ready for ritual, eager and attentive. Yes, I will pet you, darling witch.
Jacket I imagined a windbreaker circa 1988. Dick in a cheap, thin flappy thing. Mind the zipper! Hotdog bun was kind of disturbing, with mustard.
He masturbated as I rubbed my tits on him and touched his smooth chest, kissed his mouth, licked his lips. He would stop beating off to grab my breasts and rub my nipples. I would grab his balls, pat them, and rub his dick with my hand. Then he would beat off again, over and over.
We’d already had sex in the morning, so this was bonus sex. Nice, like when we were young, twice a day.
“I want to put my dick inside you,” he said.
“Go ahead,” I whispered. “My cunt is available to you.”
He took his chonies all the way off and climbed onto me.
Then I was begging him, “Please hurt me. Please hurt me.” He positioned his erection at the opening of my cunt.
Yes, with great force, he rammed himself into me. My cunt was ouched, and the pain mixed with pleasure thrilled me. I cried for it, as he fucked me extra hard.
He’d been close to coming for a while, as he masturbated. So he ejaculated quickly inside me. I pushed up against him and humped his body from below, as he spurted his semen inside of me.
We untangled our bodies. He kissed my tummy, as he paused, before moving to my side in bed.
“Will you push on my fat pad?” I asked.
He reached for my mons and pushed with his hand there rhythmically. My wet clit was getting bumped in there beautifully, thrumming with joy. I responded with happy murmuring.
Then he did it harder, and it was too much. My fat pad got sore quickly. “Softer,” I said.
“Do you want to come?” he asked.
“No,” I said. I already came that morning. “I really need some sleep.” I got up to pee, and he did too. Then he cuddled me until I was asleep.
It was really good sex. That’s how I want my life to be. Cuddle, sex, pain, direct requests, consent, abundance, care, kindness. Taking time for one another in bed and prioritizing what matters.
Afterward I slept seven hours straight and woke up serious, low pain, and full of potential.