poeticdesires

the life and musings of a kinky slut

To Bed

http://ramblingfisherman.com/category/fishing-reports/ Nerchinsk Rope Camp Memories continued…

Though Gray and I made our way to the Barn to watch Murphy and the rest of the NYR crew work, we soon headed back to the cabin. Gray was tired and his back was in no way good.

“We’re never going to walk in the dark again without your fucking flashlight.” On the very short trek to Cabin 1/2, about twenty five feet away from the porch, Gray stepped in a small hole, filled with mud and water.

As Gray took a shower, I cleared his bed of the clothing and toys strewn about. When he finished, I cuddled with him. He asked why I bothered staying. I told him I wanted to make him feel better since he seemed to be feeling down about his back. As we spooned on his tiny camp bed, we continued to chat.

Gray then asked me why I was feeling down; apparently he’d noticed too. I took a deep breath, getting my thoughts together. I spoke about over hearing his conversation with Lochai and the possibility of Gray moving to Seattle. I talked about not realizing, til after Murphy gave me an orgasm, that this information had upset me. I also explained how I talked myself down, reiterating my desire to appreciate the time I had now, and to not worry about the future because it’s wasn’t here yet. And, no matter what, whatever happened, I needed to accept it and move on.

I don’t know how, but our conversation soon veered into talking about the D/s vibe we often fell into. He asked me what I got out of it.

I spoke about being, what I call, a “closet narcisist”.  I love attention.  Love attention.  When I’m at Gray’s knee, his hand in my hair, or rubbing my back, or constantly at his side touching his calf or thigh… To me, it feels like a part of him is always paying attention to me, and I get off on that. I also enjoy being helpful to the people I care about; in completing a task for them, I making their life better. I spoke about my sub side, about being dominated, about letting go of control.

When I asked Gray about his enjoyment of dominance, he talked about how, in his view, each time I was with him he was making my life better. He used the example of my making him a S’more. Because he asked me to make him one, I now knew how to. My life was improved by being around him. He liked the fact that he gave me instances that allowed me to shine, accomplishing tasks for him, making me happy, which then made him happy. He spoke about power and control, how “I can do things like grab your hair and push your face on my cock.”

And, of course, he did just that.

I started giving him head, bobbing my mouth up and down his cock. As I licked and sucked, Gray complimented my oral abilities. He called me “imaginative.”

I began sucking on his balls, knowing he loved this part. Gray then decided he wanted to 69. I was cautious, worried I might further hurt his back. He assured me he would be fine. In his words, I’d be doing the work.

As I munched on his balls, he sucked and titty fucked me. Gray gave me permission to cum, and I almost did three times, but I just couldn’t. Our fucking was like a glorious extended tease. I wanted so deperately to fuck his face, but the position we were in was not best suited to this action. Gray, however, did cum, spewing on my chest and his stomach.

I scurried to the bathroom for paper towels and cleaned us up. Slipping back into the bed, we cuddled. I began doozing. And then it came back, the motherfucking tickle in the back of throat. I got out of bed, bent over into a hacking couch. Grabbing my water bottle from my bag, I gulped down what liquid I had left.

My throat silenced, Gray called it a night, encouraging me to go out and have more fun. I would’ve slept with him that night, trying to feed him as much positive energy as I could give, but he was insistent.

And so I left, off to find Murphy and the rest of the NYRs.


Categorised as: D/s | RCM

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