Masturbation Monday

What’s a Girl to Do? #MasturbationMonday

Illness (his and mine). Car accidents (his mom and sister – everyone’s fine). A misunderstanding (us). The past few days had been long and tiring for both of us.

There had been bright spots in the middle. The gushy orgasms and brutal fucking the day after I’d broken down in sobs over a perceived slight. Spending the day together, even though it was centered around making sure his family was taken care of in the aftermath of the car accident. The sway in my hips, the curve of my smile, the softness of our kisses.

But I knew he was getting sicker. I’d begged him to go to the doctor. He said he would, but there was no forward movement.

The one time I’m allowed to be “bossy” is when he’s sick or injured. This had to count.

Saturday morning, the bedside clock said it was nearly 9 o’clock on the morning. He’d barely slept, coughing and waking up every so often throughout the night. I’d played Big Spoon as often as I could, hoping to bring him some comfort.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and searched “emergency care” in our town.

“There’s a place just down the road from us, Daddy. They take your insurance.”

He grunted at me, not really awake. I set my phone to the side. Rolling over, I stared at him, desperately wishing I could bring him some comfort. My hands began to roam across his stomach (stopping by the bellybutton, of course), up his chest, across his neck. He finds my touch soothing; he’s told me so a million times. He closed his eyes in what I hoped was bliss.

I looked at my hands on his chest. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned over and rasped my tongue across his nipple. He hissed. I did it again. He bit his lip. I used my lips and tongue and teeth to pull his now-hard nipple into my hot mouth. I felt him tense. I released him and blew cool air across his wet skin. His hiss was sharp. I smiled.

I couldn’t help myself. I love giving him pleasure, and the fact that he could feel something good while I knew he felt so bad, there was no way I could stop.

I repeated the sequence over and over again. Lick. Suck. Nip. Blow. His tensed, tightened, and hissed with each movement. Finally, a light smack on my leg.

It was my turn to hiss.

“That feels good, Daddy. Too bad you’re so sick.”

Just as I was done with my game and turned to roll away, sure he was awake and ready to start the day, I felt another sting along my inner thigh. I hissed again. My legs spread apart with no conscious thought from me. He hooked his right leg over my left, immobilizing me.


He alternated between smacking my inner thigh which left a deliciously sharp sting and smacking my pajama-clad pussy, a delightful thud against my clit.

With each smack, I writhed. My breathing alternating between hisses and shuddery sighs. I could feel the heat and moisture pooling.


With a final smack to my pussy, I sobbed in pleasure. He pulled at my pajama shorts and together we yanked them down. His fingers found my clit. Using my own wetness as a torture device, his fingers circled the most sensitive part of me, mercilessly. I begged and pleaded.

“Oh, please, please, oh God, please, Daddy, pleasemayIcum, pleasemayIcum?” The words became a litany I repeated over and over again as the fire built deep within.

He never said a word.

He eased off and smacked my pussy lightly. I whisper-screeched. Without a word, he pulled his shorts off and pulled my bottom into his pelvis.

I arched my back, assuming the position we both love. With one quick stroke, he was inside of me. God, he felt so fucking good. Jesus H. Christ, I wanted him to fuck me forever, orgasm, be damned.

Quietly, he thrust in and out of my sopping body, squelching noises punctuated only by my groans and pants.

He wrapped one hand in my hair, pulling tight and the other around my throat, holding firm. My breathing became raspy and labored. My scalp burned. My cunt tightened around his cock. I forgot to breathe, the sensations overwhelming me.

With a soft, “Take it, my little cunt-bitch” and a final hard thrust, I felt him tighten behind me, cumming hard, filling me with his essence.

Later, after we cleaned up and made our way downstairs, after breakfast and coffee, and admonitions from me to go to the doctor, I found myself on my knees in front of him, bathing him gently in the shower. His strength was gone, used up earlier in our cool bed that seems to always smell of sex and sin. He needed care and love (and a bit of bullying). I looked up and found myself eye to eye with a sleeping cock, just as worn out as the man above me.

I leaned forward and gave his cock a gentle kiss.

“Hey now.”

I giggled. “I’m not trying to get him worked up, Daddy. He’s just right there, and what’s a girl to do?”

Welcome to Masturbation Monday, the best day of the week as far as I’m concerned. Okay, so there was no orgasm for me, but I don’t care. It was a great way to wake up! Make sure to stop by the main site to check out the other hot posts from this week’s Masturbation Monday participants!

Masturbation Monday

About the author

Kayla Lords

I am a sex blogger, podcaster, freelance writer, international speaker, kink educator, and all-around kinky woman. You can find me online sharing my innermost sexual thoughts and experiences, teaching other bloggers how to make money writing about sex, and helping kinksters have happy healthy BDSM relationships. I'm also a masochistic babygirl submissive with an amazing and sadistic Daddy Dom and business partner, John Brownstone. Welcome to my kinky corner of the internet!


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