Face The Day

I’m supposed to be spending all day shopping for Christmas, which I have already sabotaged by spending the whole morning asleep. This is of course all D’s fault for staying much longer than he should have done last night. He says it’s all my fault for flinging my arms around his ankle forcing him to drag me naked down the corridor wailing, “Nooooooo, don’t goooooo! Stay and fuck me again!” (I exaggerate, but only slightly.)

I have a faint red mark on each of my wrists from the belt he wrapped around them, buckling its ends to the side of the bed as I knelt up, my face against the bed clothes, my arms drawn down between my legs and my bottom in the air.

I have a deeper red mark on each of my buttocks from his hand as he smacked them hard with loud cracks, making them shudder as his thighs slammed against mine, thrusting his cock in hard while I gasped out, “Yes, yes, yes…”

I have a well-fucked look on my face as I sit here thinking about kneeling on the hard tile of the shower, my knees aching, my cheek bulging with his cock, my wet hair wound into a coil, twisted around his fist as he leans back against the wall, rocking my head back and forth, rolling it around his cock.

And, as I look more closely in the mirror, I notice I still have spunk in my hair. I really must have another shower, get dressed and face the day.

Comments

[D&L]

I love mornings like that!