Filed under: Sex
i do enjoy leaving my mark when having sex but what about the unconscious marking?
i speak of unconscious because i was not even aware that i was marking him in such a way. recently, i have tried my best not to mark him up in a way that would mean long sleeves or turtlenecks in summer. yet, all i recall from last night’s exploits was the tip of his cock teasing my wet heat and me inching towards it, needing it, not wanting it…needing it. my panting and whining surfacing and perhaps i was gripping his left arm a little too tightly. slowly he pushes in, my eyes roll, my body erupts immediately, my dam breaks and i gush.
slow to animalistic in mere seconds, i went from a civil woman to a primitive version of myself, clenching my teeth and pawing at him as if i were sliding down a cliff side. all his weight pushing himself in and out of me. all i want is to feel every bit of him inside of me.
that is the goal.
that is the focus.
that is life or death for that moment.
i had to bite and i had to bite down hard. my teeth connect to his pillow, grip shut and for a split moment i realized how thankful i was that it was his pillow and not his arm. i had lost my sense of control. he pushed, i pushed against him and his cumming made me come again as my legs wrapped around him clinging for that moment to never end.
my legs quivered, the wetness coated my inner thighs, i couldn’t move and willing myself too was a chore. we laid there in an eternity of silence, i listened to him breathe and my panting slowly subsided.
in the shadows of the darkness i could see little marks on his inner bicep and he knew it was much worse. it was later on as i was getting ready to leave that he showed me his arm and my mouth dropped open. up and down his whole inner arm were little nail marks some worse than others. he looked as if he were attached by some wild animal and the truth is, he was.
“i swear i don’t remember doing that!”
he gave me a look of disbelief.
“i swear it! i don’t remember!”
i apologized profusely since it was not intentional on my part. looking back, i am rather astonished that i could not recall marking him in such a way. i explained to him how lucky he was i didn’t bite a chunk of his flesh and settled with the scratch marks on his arm.
is there a moral to the story? no. i wouldn’t have changed a thing about it, all though i am sure he would beg to differ.
5 Comments so far
Tell me something
Say what is on your mind
Line and paragraph breaks automatic, e-mail address never displayed