Reclaiming the evening...

Last night nearly didn’t happen, which had me fairly upset. He had spent the day teasing me, building it up – before putting our daughter to sleep he even very carefully set up supplies for tonight in front of me. He gave me instructions – when I finished my shower I was to assume a specific position on the couch and masturbate. He would be back to play in 20 minutes.

Well, fast forward, and after my shower I waited on the couch for an hour before giving up on him. He had fallen asleep. (Which by the way, cemented that if he ever suggests tying me up before he puts her to sleep….nope! Never. Ever. Not a chance. I don’t think he would, because he’s always with me when we’ve done any kind of bondage before, but note to self – if he ever suggests it, refuse 100%.)

At which point I went online, looking at more spanking porn, got restless, watched a movie (Diary of a Nymphomaniac – more graphic than I expected, although considering the subject matter I shouldn’t be surprised, but an interesting movie that I’ll watch again when I can focus more), and finally, grudgingly, clipped off the zipties he had fastened around my wrists and ankles for later ease of …binding me? Bondaging me? I just realized, I haven’t the faintest idea what the appropriate terminology there is, but for immobilizing me).

When I threw myself into bed and shoved him off of me as he tried to curl up with me, I must have woken him. He glanced at the clock and swore, and started apologizing. I didn’t to fight but I was hurt, so I limited myself to monosyllabic answers and tried to hide the tears I was trying not to shed. I wasn’t angry. Well, maybe a little pissy, but not truly angry. Just…hurt. It was like being stood up for a date, and one that the other person had spent the entire day building up.

I was amused that he offered to get up right that second. I was like…no. Haha. I mean, in my mind that ship had sailed about 90 minutes prior. So I’m amused he suggested that at all, I’m going to attribute that one to just waking up because yeah, there was no way.

And then…he started touching me. Running his fingertips up and down my back, my sides, lightly over my butt, my legs…I love that gentle kind of touching, that almost tickle that’s more stroking. It very quickly relaxes me or drives me wild, depending on where…and he knew it. (I’ve been touch centric since I was little, because the household I grew up in didn’t touch. Rarely hugged, kissed…not an affectionate household, and that was something I knew I didn’t want in any relationship I had, and when we had our child I knew that was going to be different for us.)

Honestly, I hadn’t decided we were even going to have sex, much less play – I pretty much figured if he had ditched me by falling asleep, unintentional or not, it was only fair that he touch me and help me sleep, right? So with that thought in mind, I let him touch me. I was moaning without realizing it pretty fast (I’d been turned on all day – I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that it was easy to get me to slip back to that…state?).

When he asked me to turn over, I did it immediately and without thinking about it. He continued stroking me and then – I must have been out of it, because I don’t remember him moving? – he was between my legs, licking me gently. I don’t know if I had been already wet, but I was, fast – and when he gently tugged me out of bed, I found myself following without any real protest. I did warn him I didn’t know that I wanted to play with him, I was still upset…his answer was noncommittal and I was amused to find myself in position over his lap a minute later.

I told him to at least go slow and touch a lot, because I really was upset. He said all right, stroked my back a bit, and then promptly smacked my ass, hard.

I of course protested. That wasn’t going slow!

At that point, he actually did slow down – a lot of really slow build up in intensity, sometimes on my feet, sometimes on my butt, my thighs, my breasts…I was moaning but for some reason determined not to cry out. As far as I knew the threatened punishments were off the table, but I guess I wanted to see if I could do it?

At some point, the new spoon we bought came out. That thing definitely has a bigger impact than his hand, even though I knew he was using less force. He sometimes used the handle and sometimes used the bowl of the spoon – it was so interesting, the handle felt a lot … heavier? More impact from it, which surprised me and I’m not sure why. It definitely left some interesting marks and welts and we learned that you have to be a lot more careful with an implement than a hand – we’ve never really played with stuff before (we had a small whip at some point before, but it was a rubber one, and we’ve never really done a lot with this until we discovered just how much this really turns me on). I can’t quite explain what happened, but the spoon was at an awkward angle I guess, with me on all fours, to spank my breast, and hit poorly? I don’t know how to explain it but there was immediately a wicked bruise. Today it looks horrible, but feels like any other bruise – at the time I didn’t really feel it, I was pretty lost – but he was definitely very cautious after that happened.

When he thought I was about at my limit, clothespins came out. (I wasn’t and was really enjoying it, but he was worried after that smack on my breast.)

Wow. I have to be honest, we had tested one earlier and I thought these would be easy to take. I can’t remember how many he got around my areola, but it was a lot. A lot. And they pinched a little at first, but jiggling them even slightly…ow! Those he left on for a bit, maybe 10, 15 minutes? The ones on my pussy lasted only a minute or two – I was so turned on that those stung really bad. He told me how hot it was, which helped, but wow, did those sting! As he clipped each one on, he occasionally brushed the ones on my breasts…ow!

He had me thank him after each one was on – and that was new. We’d never tried to get me verbalize about what I was going through other than “ow” and moaning – I’m shy about this. Participation in the sense of seeming willing…I don’t know. Part of what’s so hot for me about this is him doing it to me, so I can enjoy it but not…self inflict? That was what was so strange about the tabasco the first time, I did it to myself – that usually feels too dark, too perverted for me. I need that sense of “he made me do it” to enjoy…so I thought thanking him would be hard, would break it for me, but it was actually really hot. I’ll have to think more about why, but it was really hot.

By the time he removed the clothespins from my sex, my breasts were really starting to sting – and he had me switch from being on my back to all fours, where he started fucking me from behind. I have large breasts, but I never noticed just how much they bounce when he fucks me. Well – with the clothespins on, I fucking noticed! He’s evil – he told me afterwards he knew exactly how much I would feel that.

It actually hurt enough that I had to ask him to stop, but I think in retrospect that was more the surprise of finding out much I bounce during sex. I think next time we try that I’ll be better prepared and able to take the pain.

He had me thank him as each one was removed, some gently unclipped and some simply pulled off – I couldn’t decide which hurt worse, but afterwards he spanked my breasts more. My breasts were aching and stinging as he slapped them. I have to wonder what was on my face, because he was watching me very intently. I’ll have to ask him about that later…I do wonder what I looked like. I remember it hurt – flinching, hands clutched behind me so I wouldn’t try to protect them – and then pushing my chest out for more.

When he stopped, there were butterflies in my stomach, because I knew what came next. He offered me a choice – did I want the long cucumber up my ass, or the fat one? I knew he’d pick the fat one if I didn’t say something, but I was silent anyway, too mortified to choose. Either way, this would be the biggest thing I’d ever had inside of me – could I take it? Could I stretch that much? I wasn’t honestly sure and the nervousness, the fear, titillated me as I listened to him carve notches in the cucumber so it wouldn’t be lost inside me. As he lubed me and lubed the cucumber, I felt tenser than I had been all evening.

I’m not sure how large that cucumber was (in retrospect – should have measured it! Oops!), but it took a long time to work in. I was whimpering about how it was too big, I couldn’t take it – and he just told me to take it, that I could do it and he wanted to see it. He had me fuck myself onto the cucumber, so the embarrassment of fucking a cucumber was there too. He teased me, told me I was perverted for fucking a cucumber, and I think I must have been blushing, but all I could focus on was this huge … thing! … invading me. I felt so stretched and I kept telling him it was too big, too big – and he kept telling me to take it. When he had it in, he started fingering me, pushing me to come as he shot a video on his phone, fucking the cucumber in and out of me.

When he yanked it out, I whimpered again – the thing had been impossibly big for me, but I felt empty without it…until he started fucking my ass. I was so turned on, so horny at that point, so wet – I can’t remember if I came once of multiple times, but I was so lost by then, so far gone by the time he finally shuddered and came himself.

And I’m such a cheeky brat. After we cleaned up, both of us, and joked about the cucumber, I told him he hadn’t met his goal – I was nearly as sore as I was the other night, so I told him I would probably comfortably be able to wear jeans the next night.

I was trying to get him to spank me!

I can’t even explain my motivations, but I wanted him to spank me more. He told me he’d tried to go easier because we’d been using the spoon, and I teased him that that was nice, but I was definitely not going to have any issue sitting down the next day. At which point he finally did spank me more – I remember it really did hurt but though I swore and cried I was pushing back for more almost immediately.

I’m not as sore as I was the other day, but I definitely couldn’t wear my jeans today.