He came home. I’d been awaiting his arrival. I let the kids and dogs attack him first and when I approached him he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him and kissing me deeply. What he didn’t know was that my libido was already on overdrive. When I extricated myself from his grasp I told myself I needed to calm down, chill out. It was a few hours yet before we’d really have a chance to enjoy one another and I couldn’t afford to be this worked up. Oh, the thought of taking matters into my own hands had occurred to me, but I knew he wouldn’t be pleased if I did that when he was home. It wasn’t long before I decided that I needed to make my current state known and so I asked him if he’d come upstairs for a few minutes.
Okay, no, that’s not really how it happened. It sounds much more submissive that way though. What I actually did was inform the kids, loud enough that Michael could hear, that daddy and I were going upstairs because I needed to talk with him and that I didn’t want them coming up while we were up there because I didn’t want them to overhear. I said that we’d be down shortly. Mind you, I hadn’t actually asked Michael to join me upstairs or even said anything to him about it. He had a quizzical look on his face, but he followed me.
I lay down on the bed and asked him, yeah, no, actually, I told him to close the bedroom door after he came in. He did and lay down next to me. “What, little girl?” he asked me. I proceeded to inform him that if he didn’t want me driving him crazy all evening there was something he needed to do something about. I honestly wasn’t sure how he’d react, what he’d do. I mean, there were plenty of choices…spanking, sex (at the time I would’ve been receptive to a “wham bam, thank you ma’am”), etc. He undressed me…or did he have me get undressed…I have no idea at this point. But once I was naked and lying beside him again he grasped my nipple with one hand as his other hand searched out the wetness between my legs. Okay, he didn’t really have to search. I was pretty worked up already.
It wasn’t long before he had me struggling to be quiet. He had my arms pinned down above my head as he pleasured me with his fingers, his mouth now on one of my nipples, both already tender from him pulling and squeezing them. He asked me if I was near the pinnacle and I admitted that while I was very worked up I wasn’t quite there. He whispered in my ear, the exact words I don’t remember, but that was all it took. Now I was on the edge. Thankfully he gave me permission to allow myself to erupt because I would've had a really hard time waiting. Yes, he was certainly the one in control. It was so hard to be quiet and it was probably a good thing he was holding me down too. He gave me a moment to recover, but just a moment, and then he was rubbing again and now that little nub was so sensitive! He brought me to that point again and again and then I was so sensitive that I found myself on the edge of pleasure and pain. Finally he relented. As he headed downstairs, leaving me on the bed to recover, he issued a warning not to fall asleep.
I honestly think that forced orgasms are one of his very favorite ways to torment me and pleasure me at the same time. I suppose I can’t really complain about that though, can I? ; )