He Fucked the Tension Right Out of Me

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“I wrote a piece about sensual massage today.”

My face was half-buried in the bed, my body bent over the edge of the mattress, waiting for my good night spanks. Muscles ached and cramped as I stretched out for the first time all day.

“A massage, huh? Like this?”

His hands began at my shoulders and ran down my torso, molding my flesh as he went. I arched my back like a cat and sighed in satisfaction.

“Something like that.”

I thought about roaming fingers in dark, wet places. And the first time he gave me a sensual massage. How loved and worshipped I’d felt. How relaxed I’d been. I could go for that again.

Drifting in and out as his hands worked their way over my shoulders, down my sides, over my butt. And back up again. Warm palms. Strong fingers. Sharp nails. And then he found a dark, damp place, and I shuddered with barely suppressed delight.

When he stopped for a moment, I whimpered. His fingers coated in lube, he plunged into my cunt. Gentle but firm, insistent. He kicked my feet wider apart for better access. Oh yeah, like that.

He shrugged out of his clothes, switching hands so we stayed in finger-to-pussy contact. I waited for him to press his body against mine. He had another ideas.

Another kick. Hands on my hips. The slight pull back and up. I arched my back, knowing exactly what he planned now. Fuck yes!

His cock slid deep into my body. My arms spread to each side. I grasped at blankets and pillows to brace myself. I thought, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuckmefuckmefuckme!” but I said, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck….”

He chuckled. A dark, satisfied sound I know well.

I lost sense of the world at some point. A few things I know for sure…

Nails raked down my back as he leaned back and thrust harder.

Harsh fingers dug into my hips until I choked back a scream.

Cruel pulls of my hair forced me into a delightfully painful back bend. My scalp burned.

My favorite sound is the thwap-thwap-thwap of his pelvis against my ass.

Searing stings on both my flanks as his hands came down in time with each thrust.

It was sensation overload. Desperately needed. Unknowingly craved.

I kept my ass arched, even as my knees dug into the side of the bed. Each thrust pushed them into the iron rail. I knew would have bruises later, and I didn’t care.

Don’t stop, don’t stop, dooooooon’t fucking stooooooooop.

He stopped. I whimpered.

“Get up on the bed.”

My legs trembled. I tried to pull myself up on the bed. Tried and failed. I giggled.

“You fucked the tension right out of me, Daddy.”

“Good, but I’m not done with you yet.”

No, he wasn’t. He was only getting started.

Spooned together, our bodies close, he moved in and against me. I melted into the moment. This was easier…gentler. Until he smacked my cheek, the force sending pulses into my cunt even as my eyes rolled back in my head. Another. Then again. My eyes watered as the heat and pain bloomed across my face. Even as my body relaxed, tension melting away, my brain craved the sensation. I felt more alive with each strike.

He fucked me raw. We fucked until we both dripped from sweat and ejaculate. By the end, I was little more than a rag doll. Any tension I’d felt was long gone.

Welcome to Masturbation Monday! After pouting that I didn’t get my “Sunday morning sex,” I thanked John Brownstone for giving me blog fodder for today. I don’t think either of us knew how much we needed this moment until it was over. We both slept well for the first time in a week. Note to self: more rough sex. Okay, enough about me. You know what to do…click that big ole button and go get more smut. You know you want to.