At this point, I had entered a sort of zen feeling. Yes I was horny. Yes I was frustrated. But there was nothing I could do about it and that’s that. Really, my biggest concern was that I would have absolutely nothing to write about for this day in the blog. I knew that Master would come home and we’d go on about our night. Whatever happened, I could handle.
It WAS killing my soul a little that I still had two more days before anything happened. But then Master dropped the bombshell on me that we could fuck Friday morning. After some debate, I actually decided against it for the dumbass reason of “I want to shave my legs first.”
Master came home that night. I told Master I wanted to fuck facing each other the first time, because I wanted that connection. He asked me if I was telling him what to do, and I assured him I was not. I was letting him know what my preference was, and it was his prerogative as the Master whether or not he actually did it. Then that smug, non-deprived bastard smirked at me. But it made me laugh.
We watched the new episode of Harlots. Which sucked. No sex at all. Totally fine for an orgasm-deprived submissive who still had 24 hours left before she could come. Then we rewatched the new episode of The Handmaid’s Tale.
It’s totally fucked up, I know. But there’s this scene in it and, you know, spoilers and blah blah blah. It’s a fucked up scene in a non-violent way, but in a mindfuck kind of way. Anyway, it had me really hot and bothered.
Master was sitting next to me and I had my legs across his lap. I don’t remember who said it, but it was decided that four days was fucking long enough already. I DO remember that Master said I had earned it because I’d been so good and so strong. I asked him if he had any instructions for me, and he said no.
I got to the bedroom first and quickly removed my clothes and climbed into bed, naked. Master came in after I was covered and stripped all his clothes off. Within fractions of a second after he climbed in, we were all over each other.
My lips pressed against his, his hands roamed all over me. It took no time at all for me to get worked up. I was thinking about asking him if he would please lift the requirement that I ask for orgasms, just for that night. But before I had mustered the courage, he whispered to me “don’t ask for permission tonight, babydoll. Just come.”
And as quickly as we’d come together, he got on top of me and was inside me. Oh. My. God. How I missed his cock. We kept our eyes locked on each others’ for a few moments, but it had been too long and I was coming already.
He was on top of me for about the first half of it. And I lost count after four orgasms. I quit caring. I just wanted more. Then he rolled me over and I rode him, desperately grinding, frantically trying to get all the frustration from the week. I wanted to show Master everything I was feeling. Frankly, I was feeling how wet the sheet was under us, too.
I asked Master if he wanted to take me from behind. His answer was affirmative. He finished in me, holding my hips so tight that his knuckles turned red when he let go. I rolled onto my back and then, with all the sweetness I could muster, whispered “may I please have some more, Master?”
“Oh yes. How do you want it, baby?”
“Your mouth. And fingers. Please.”
It took almost no time at all, and the last orgasm was so powerful that I screamed through it.
I have never had that many orgasms in a night. Fuck, probably not in a 72-hour period. And every earth-shattering moment of it was exactly what I needed.
I rolled over, still naked, and fell asleep. Naked again. Except not by his request this time, but out of respect for him.