Spit on my face and tell me that you love me

July 23, 2008 at 6:12 pm Leave a comment

He was on his back, and we’d both been playing the we’re-not-really-having-sex game. You know, with the kissing and the touching and the getting wound up and pausing and calming down and starting up again.

At one point I brought up the fact that he still hasn’t been for a new HIV test, which probably dampened the mood again. Nothing like discussing risk factors regarding transmission of sexually transmitted diseases to kill the mood.

But it was nice to be next to him in the bed last night, and even talking about why he hasn’t gone to the doctor yet was nice. Sure, it killed the mood for about 10 minutes, but the mood came back. We needed the emotional connection more than the sex. But then there was sex anyway. Sort of. If orgasm counts as sex. Okay, there was sex. Actually, I think I will lose all my femdom cred when I tell you that he came and I didn’t. I didn’t really want to.

What I wanted was to touch him and talk to him and wrestle with him a bit, and pull him by his legs down the bed and push him down and take him in my mouth to hear him gasp, and lick his stomach and the tender joining of his legs to his torso, lick him everywhere, taste the salt of his sweat.

“What am I, a steak?” he said.

He was tasty. I like to taste him.

I also like to push him down and play with him. I like to watch him when he’s excited, when he’s in that other space, when his eyes close and they crinkle at the corners.

I was supposed to leave around 10pm, but time in the snug is relative.

Sometime in that relative time, he was on his back, stroking himself. I was egging him on, and he begged me to spit on his cock. I did.

I used to hate seeing that in porn — people dropping big gobs of spit on each other before doing all sorts of friction-inducing, lubrication-ameliorating things. The phrase “big gobs of spit” is about as mood-killing as “HIV-testing.” When I first saw a man drop a big gob of spit on a woman’s ass right before sinking his cock into it, I was disgusted. It seemed so disrespectful to spit on someone.

But the first time Bran and I messed around, I scooted onto my back and held my breasts up so he could slide his cock in the valley between. And before he placed his cock between my breasts, he leaned down and dropped a big gob of spit on my chest. The feel of his cock, wet and hard, sliding between my breasts, the sound and the feel of him pushing, excited… It felt dirty and intimate and… sweet.

So I spit on his cock and watched him stroke himself harder, faster. I held him down and kissed his face and did things to his chest that made him gasp.

Then he asked me to spit on his chest. Which I did. And then I spit on his face. In his mouth. Repeatedly. Until he came.

It was dirty. And intense. And intimate. And dirty. And loving. And very, very dirty.

Entry filed under: being a good bisexual, Bran, dirty sex, dominance and why that's hot, femdom, kink, pleasure, power exchange, sluts have more fun, smut, spitting, who's in charge here, wrestling.

Summer vacation Still

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