Morning Glory

It's about 6:00 am and I'm laying quietly on my right side, facing away from my husband. While I desperately want him to wake up, I don't necessarily want to wake him up overtly. Twenty eight years as a couple and he has yet to awaken before me in the morning. I sigh softly and shuffle just enough to jostle the bed in the hopes it might rouse him. His snoring, which sounds like purring for now, continues. Crap.

I try to occupy myself with thoughts of last night. As my left hand travels down to my pussy, I smile while I recall the delicious torture he put me through not twelve hours ago. My labia are clearly bruised, and I know why. He restrained me on my back. My arms lay at right angles to my body; my wrists in thin leather cuffs which were, in turn, padlocked to heavy metal chains that were secured across the bed. My knees were bent and my legs were splayed. Leather cuffs, which circled my ankles, were also padlocked to the chains traversing the bed. We do love symmetry. Vicious clamps bit into my small nipples. Clothes pins yanked my pussy lips outward as they were lassoed by the shoelaces tied around my upper thighs. Anal and vaginal dildos were inserted and secured, again by utilizing chains, his preferred method of restraint. The flogging that my clit received was so painful, yet so very heavenly. The intensity increased with each flick of his wrist, until I was screaming out, somewhat unsuccessfully through my bit gag. If it wasn't for the blindfold, I'm sure I would have seen him smile because I had asked him for a rough night, and he does love me so. The last lashing sent my body off the mattress, as if I had been shocked by electricity (alas, no such fun last night). He relented and proceeded to pound my pussy with his dick, while the anal dildo stayed in place. Fun and games on a Saturday night; it doesn't get better than that. But, now we are on to Sunday morning, and I'm horny as hell.

Another five minutes pass and I jiggle my body more forcefully on the bed, causing it to noticeably quake. There seems to be a bit of progress because the snoring stops and heavy breathing takes its place. I plot my next move carefully. If he knows I purposely woke him up, he might not be amorously inclined. It's Sunday and we don't have to rush off to work, so I plan to take full advantage of that fact. I fake a cough, and pretend I'm trying to keep it quiet. He stirs! I remain on my side, fingers crossed. Finally! He shuffles over to me and curls his body around mine. This is my favorite cuddle position. He's 6'2"; a full foot taller than me. When he's wrapped around me like this, I feel and appreciate his height almost as much as I do when I have to stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. Even on my toes, I still can't reach his lips unless he ducks his head quite a bit to meet me half way.

I wiggle my ass into his groin, trying to gauge whether or not he might be ready for action. There's a definite fullness between his legs. He's close to fully erect. He extends his right arm and I cradle my head on it, with my right arm extended as well. His left hand comes across my body and heads for my right nipple. At the risk of offending my left nipple, I feel quite sure that my right nipple is his favorite. He grabs it tightly, gives it a twist, and doesn't let go. The pressure on my nipple increases and I moan while my body writhes, involuntarily. He hits the sweet spot with the force of his titty twist and my back arches as my head is thrown back. I gasp. This is going exactly to plan! His left hand shows mercy on my nipple and moves down to my pussy. Since I have been happily reliving last night's activities in my mind, he immediately realizes I am dripping wet. He slightly shifts his pelvis and voila! We have contact, my favorite kind. As he thrusts into me, I feel like he's coming home, and my pussy is so glad to welcome him. His dick is warm and unyielding. Rough rocking and more nipple twisting quickly bring me to orgasm. He slows a bit and I fish my hand between us. Using my fingers, I try to get a mental picture of his dick in my pussy. It is so unjust that men have a better vantage point of this miracle of nature. His thatch of pubic hair is wet from my juices, which further serves to fan my sexual fire.

He likes to vary his pace. At times he is slow and steady and at other times he relentlessly pushes his dick so deep into my cunt that I can barely breathe. We start with traditional spooning, both sets of legs together, mine sitting nicely on top of his. After a bit of time, I grin to myself as I feel his left knee pull up and point toward the ceiling, while he sets his foot just behind my knees for leverage. His massive hand grabs my left buttock and pulls it to the side, so he can achieve deeper penetration. This is when the real pounding starts. I might find myself ejected off of his dick altogether if I didn't bring my left hand up and place it flat against the wall above my head to anchor my body against his. He gifts me with several more orgasms and yet, I start to feel the need to kick it up a notch.

"Am I wet enough, Babe?" I ask.

"Hmm, I think you may be." He replies.

Recently, we verified that if one has a wet enough pussy, no additional lubrication is needed for anal. We are relatively new to the anal scene and I had just figured it was some porn film fallacy designed to make regular gals feel inadequate. I'm quite sure this move turns on my husband a great deal, and it seems that this morning, I'm good to go. He pulls out of my pussy and I can tell he is well coated in its juices. We used to do some type of "anal warm up", before he sodomized me, but now I just like the raw feeling of his dick in my ass without the preamble. We are still on our right sides and I feel him knocking on my little brown door. My body automatically tenses because I know there will be several moments of pain. He starts to move forward and the initial penetration goes well. As he sneaks up to the internal sphincter, my body involuntarily moves away from him and I gasp as the tearing pain begins. He shushes me and I lace the fingers of my right hand into the fingers of his hand, since our right arms are still extended out in front of us. My left hand flies to his left thigh for additional reassurance since I love the feel of his muscled legs. He neither pulls out, nor moves forward. He just lets my body accommodate and relax. His control is so sexy to me. When he feels me relax a bit, he moves forward and an exquisite fullness follows. He plays with my right nipple again while he rocks, slowly picking up speed. His left hand moves to my neck and covers it completely. I love this power move. It highlights his strength and size and makes me dizzy with desire. He never applies pressure, his hand just rests there, firmly.

I know he's getting close to his orgasm because he starts to move us forward until I am flat on my stomach. His hands are planted on either side of my head and just in front of me. He lets loose and starts pumping his dick mercilessly into my ass. I have a hard time keeping quiet, but try to control myself by panting, groaning and shouting "please don't stop" into my pillow. Anal orgasms are a puzzle to me; I love them but don't understand how they are possible. I feel one approaching, and he whispers to me that his is building too. My hands find his and grasp them. I'm pushed over just as he stops and I feel his dick pulsating as it empties fully. Having his semen in my ass makes me feel incredibly naughty. He stops, kisses my shoulder and grabs for the tissue box. I know he'll be off to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Sometimes, I wish he would just revel with me in post coital bliss on these mornings, but hey, I've got it pretty good. I'll just keep that to myself.

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This is a true story, and my first submission. Comments welcome.

Sue