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His fingers enter my pussy now, dancing merrily as I squirm. Leaving my tits his mouth attacks my clit again, sucking hard. My hips move so much he has to hold me down as his hands travel back to my ass. I squeal through the gag as he begins to move the plug in and out. It’s too gay men pissing much, too intense, shuddering and shouting through the gag I cum, my orgasm seemingly lasting forever, as I’m blind, bound, dominated.
My body is still quaking as his thick cock suddenly fills my drenched pussy, made smaller by the big plug stretching my ass, made sensitive from my intense orgasm. I pull hard against my restraints as he forcefully pounds into me, his hands lifting my ass up to take all of his cock.
I shudder as I cum again, and everything implodes, colors, senses alive to our breathing, my bound wrists, his throbbing cock, the tingling in my pussy, my still erect nipples, and the sound and feel of our sweat-soaked bodies sliding against each other. He growls and explodes, cum spurting into me.
We lay gay men pissing quietly after, hearts thumping hard enough to hear, bodies drenched in sweaty desire. I’m limp and lay totally inert as he carefully removes the scarf from my eyes, the panties gay men pissing from my mouth. Moving my jaw experimentally, so thirsty, I open my eyes to see him leaning on an elbow, sporting a seriously cocky grin.
“Pretty pleased with yourself, hmmm?” My attempted quip, with voice hoarse, throat dry.
The grin grows wider, and he works at the scarves binding my wrists, having some difficulty because I’ve pulled so hard on the knots. Finally I’m free, and he helps me up. I’m weak, grasping onto him as my strength. He pats my shoulder as gay men pissing I try to gay men pissing clear my throat.
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“Just a minute,” he says, leaving the room for a moment and returning shortly with ice cold beers. Oh - absolute heaven - and I gulp thirstily, thinking beer hasn’t tasted like that since I was an undergrad.
“Thank you gay men pissing,” I say, eyes closing.
“One good fantasy deserves another,” says he, sitting down, pulling me against him, claiming me.
We finish the beers and lay back in bed together, spooning, cuddling, talking of inconsequential things. I can’t believe the wild direction our sex life is traveling. In the past two days we’ve managed to explore previously gay men pissing uncharted sexual territory. I feel proud, but exhausted, and feel myself drifting off to sleep thinking gay men pissing of desires fulfilled.
The next morning finds gay men pissing us relaxed, happy and every bit as horny as we were last night. Perhaps even more so. This glimpse into secret fantasies has caused us to feel closer than ever in our ten plus years of marriage. We decide to make plans for a night out - dinner, drinks, dancing. Of course, we both have a pretty good idea as to how this evening will end.
I take some time preparing, ladies know the drill. Long scented bath, shaving everywhere, internal cleansing, toes and fingers painted deep wine, makeup carefully applied, minimal jewelry. I’m wearing a pretty bra and thong panties, both white, garter belt and flirty thigh high stockings. My new dress in deep teal manages to show off tits while de-emphasizing ample ass. Matching open-toed pumps complete the ensemble. I twirl around once, happy, feeling terrific.
Heels clicking on the way to our living room, I see he’s ready, waiting for me. Distracted, he’s adjusting cuffs, adding wallet, keys, cell phone. I enjoy the sight and watch for a gay men pissing bit before he notices. Looking over, smiling, eyes warm on me he says, “You’re beautiful.”
Cliche’ - perhaps even trite, yet it still gay men pissing makes me blush with pleasure. He takes my hands and kisses me gently gay men pissing.
“Shall we go?” I ask, already hopelessly aroused.
“Not yet,” he says, grinning, lifting up the back of my dress and cupping my still-pink cheeks.
“What are you doing?” I giggle, squirming, as he begins to probe.
“I want you to wear one of your toys tonight,” he murmurs, kissing gay men pissing my neck, hands busy on my ass.
“What?” I ask, shocked, pulling back slightly.
“Wear your plug for me.”
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