Self-Serving

He asked me to masturbate for him in our bedroom. That I could start, and he would be along soon.

I pulled out my trusty vibrator, a JeJoue silicone egg, and opened up my e-reader to something wonderfully smutty and pornographic. I added a set of Kegel balls once I felt wetness seeping down my thighs.

He came upstairs. I could hear each step creak. He paused in the doorway, watching me. My shirt and bra pushed above my breasts. My jeans bunched around my calves. I leaned back, reveling in his gaze. Knowing that he was getting turned on added to my excitement.

He moved next to me, standing at the head of our bed. He undid his belt and zipper–such an erotic sound–and pulled out his beautiful cock. Taking it in hand, he gave it a few strokes. Was he going to tell me to serve him? He said nothing, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back as my movements got more frenzied. He let go, and roughly grabbed my right breast, pinching the nipple. He used my breast to pull me forward, onto my hands and knees. He sank his beautiful cock into me, the Kegel balls making for a very crowded situation.

I felt unimaginably full. I plateaued, moaning and yelling. Then he used his thumb to open my ass, sliding into me without stopping. It hurt and it helped and it was overwhelming, all at the same time. Still, I came; even though climaxing was simple being ridden by the waves of ecstasy for minutes. All I could do was yell and come.

He finished in my ass. He pulled free, and wiped himself clean. I was still splayed on our bed, my clothing simply pulled out of the way. This made me feel wanton and deliciously dirty. He pushed my head down and rested his hand on my neck. Still I shuddered and quivered, and he held me until I calmed.

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