His Gifts

Our time together was –dare I say–bliss-filled. He left me giddy, light-headed, sated, glowing. He left me with many gifts.

I wear His scent upon my skin, an olfactory memory of His body lying atop mine, pinning me to the bed.  His fingers probed my pussy, circled my clit, over and over, until I arched and spurted upon my bed.

My hair, a tangled mess, is the gift of His hands as He pulled it up, smoothing it atop my head and into a rough ponytail, holding my head firmly, bobbing my mouth up and down His cock.

Around my lips, a dried ring of semen is a sexual lipstick. A touch of my tongue reminds me that He possessed my mouth, until I drained Him, and drank of His nectar. Sweet and salty, my favorite combination of flavors, all spurting from His cock, my reward for a job well done. We each took a gift from that experience. 🙂

Upon my breasts, bruises from Him reminding me to focus on the task at hand as I sucked Him, giggling. He told little jokes to break my concentration, then grasped and pinched my nipples, my tits as I laughed around His shaft.

Laughter and cocks don’t mix, nilla, He said, then, focus, slut. Cock, not giggles if you please.

And then of course, He made another joke…but His hands on my tits, tight as a vise, make me work hard to press into that pain to get His cock into my mouth again. Predicament bondage at its best; press into the grip of His hands ever harder, in order to get close enough to suck His cock.

My knees remind me, gently sore, of my kneeling between His strong thighs as His penis brushed my lips. Of moving around to retrieve Him when He would move to make me work for it.  My body, achy in many small places are all little gifts that flash me back to each  experience that we had together.

My pussy aches, a dull and sated throb, from His hands, His fingers. Rubbing and teasing, thrusting and filling, slapping. The firm, hard, implacable blows fell after every orgasm–and there were a lot of orgasms.

For now, I am tired and this is all I can say of of time together this weekend–there may be more as my mind settles, and I’m not floating 5 feet above the floor. For now there will be my bed, and the contemplation of all that happened between us this evening.

Swollen, tired, lightly bruised, I am deeply satisfied to have spent this  Saturday evening with Master. Having Him here, in my home, in my bed, filling my room with His presence–and memories to carry me through until next time, well, it is the best gift of all.

 

 

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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17 Responses to His Gifts

  1. jrsslave says:

    so happy for you

    • vanillamom says:

      thanks jrsslave…

      welcome to the nillaverse…and thanks for your sweet comment. I’m pretty happy these days…riding a bliss-wave am I!

      nilla

  2. Wordwytch says:

    Wooohoo!!! 🙂
    I look forward to hearing more of your lovely visit. 🙂

  3. greengirliam says:

    There’s that happy voice again – gorgeous! i’m so glad for you.

    • vanillamom says:

      Thanks gg…I was so SO blissed out. Still am, in a way. He fills that part of me that I don’t always notice is getting “low”….and that makes me happy. 🙂

      nilla

    • vanillamom says:

      thanks cammiesonthefloor….

      I was still very spaced out when I wrote this post…and feeling totally blissed out. It was a great date night.

      nilla

  4. Slave Ali says:

    Reading this post gives me needs. :-p

  5. Fiona says:

    Just what the Dr. Ordered!!!!

    Hugs,
    Fiona

  6. Yes! Yes! This x1000. I swear we’re living somewhat parallel lives, nilla. Well maybe not but damn if some of this couldn’t be me and TheSadist™. I’ll have to tell the story of my “Monica dress” one day. It had us both in stitches.

    I’m itchy right now. Won’t see him until Saturday and he’s promised a severe beating as a result of my achievements (new 5K PR last week). I’m scared yet aroused just thinking of the things he may do to me.

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