Thursday, November 18, 2010


Our bathroom is miniscule; in fact any room was sacrificed so that we could have a shower that would fit two people in it... snugly but nevertheless, both of us. It is nothing for Him to slip in as one is about to finish and on the odd occasion even massage ones shoulders. Not long enough to have real therapeutic use, more enough to give one a taste of how things could be, if we were in a different relationship... well more if one small slave had possession of the crop. The upshot of this is one didn’t take much notice of Him opening the door.

That changed as He pulled one out from under the water, pushed one into the cool wall tiles, thrust into ones arse up to his testicles in pretty much one swift motion, while telling one to say please until He came. Afterwards He rinsed off and meandered back to the study leaving one feeling hot, wet and violated. How are you feeling, He solicitously enquired after one emerged. Horny one snapped back. Oh well if it gets too bad you will just have to nip off to the ladies while you are at work. Fat chance one thought, our place is like a war zone and worse in the lead up to Christmas.

As it turned out it was one of those freak quiet days where time dragged slowly, and all one was aware of was the wetness between ones thighs and how stockings create this really erotic sensation as you walk. After a couple of hours one gave up and nipped off the floor for a few minutes to finish what had been started in another bathroom earlier. The orgasm took about five minutes flat, but the sensation of where He had been lasted much longer. It is a sad fact that post orgasm the feelings of pain come back with a vengeance, and what had been a comfortable awareness morphed into the feeling of having been reamed. Sighs damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

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