Just Can't Get Enough...

We had sex today, rough sex, the kind of sex where He makes it very clear who is in charge.  He grabbed me, pinched my nipples, pushed me up against the wall and kissed me hard.  Then He put His hands on my arms and moved me down onto the little stool.

The little stool, which is very low to the ground, has one purpose:  oral sex.  When I sit on the little stool, my face meets up with His crotch at just the right height.  Mouth, meet cock.  Today wasn't about sucking, though.  Today was about getting my face fucked.  Hard, deep, and fast, with His hands on the back of my head.

So deep that breathing was optional.  So hard and fast that at times, I seriously thought I was going to vomit.  My eyes teared up, snot started to flow, drool was everywhere, and it wasn't pretty.

But I sure was turned on.  He was too, but you already knew that.

When it was all over, we talked about it, about the roughness of it.  I said I liked it.  I like when He is uber-Dominant, when He takes what He wants, when He is rough.  I like that He didn't restrain me.  I like having to keep my hands still, to refrain from pushing Him away from me when I can't breathe.  I like the feel of His cock pressing hard against the back of my throat.  I like the flood of panic when I can't get enough air.  I like to gag on His cock right up until the edge of throwing up. I like having to take it.  I like that He makes me take it.

Twisted, yes, but it's a rush.  All of it.

We should do it more often.

D'oh!

As I got ready for work yesterday, all showered and made-up and getting dressed in my work-clothes, I turned to Master and said, "I really like my hair this length.  I think I'll keep it this way."

He gazed at me, and replied, in a rather dry manner, "You may keep it that way."

Oopsie.  See how easy it easy for that pesky little Master/slave thingie to slip a person's slave's mind?

Without missing a beat, I quickly said, "Yes, Master," and gave Him a kiss.

But I am very glad He will let me keep it this length.