Sub Spacey

Oh, have I been floating. . . and sitting gingerly. Time is not flowing like a river, but whirling around me like a whirlpool…

I’m remembering things at the end. From the beginning, from when-the-fuck-ever. It’s a strange and wonderful feeling, yet also disorienting. I remember …kinda…doing something …maybe hugging him or kissing him and he was pushing me, steering me and then somehow I’m on the bed and my ass is bare and he’s beating my ass

so so so so

wicked hard.

His hand had to hurt (he denies this)…I’d like to believe it, anyway. Because my ass really, really hurt. Stung like hellfire, and he had this way of hitting with the heel of his hand that was like a pounding, punching kind of blow, that was very painful.

And of course, he HAD to hit the same spot.


And again.

And again….

…until I’d rear up and yelp and whimper and make him laugh.

But let me slip back to the end. I was deeeeeep in subspace. I was floating, my head just gone. I was aware of him…his warmth, his arm around me, fingers in my hair. I couldn’t move even if he’d let me, I was totally trashed by then. The bed under me soaked from orgasm overload, and feeling totally boneless.

His lips move against my hair, and I realize that he is talking, not just kissing me. I tried to hear the words, to make the sounds have meaning, but for a few moments there, I’m totally lost. At last I focus enough to follow him. In time to hear this:

“You know nilla, when I was fucking your ass?”

I make some sort of ‘yes’ sound so that he knows I’m really listening now.

“It kind of reminded me….”

I’m encouraging him to go on, making little mewls of yes-sounding sounds…but I’m also wondering. Where the fuck is he going with this. I begin to feel myself pulled back into the now, with him, beside him, back inside myself.

Fucking my ass reminded him of something other than fucking my ass?

(really…should I be insulted? Embarrassed? What? Where is he going with this analogy?)

He pauses a long moment.

“….of separating cheese slices.”

There is a long, long pause. And I snort. And then I giggle.

Soon, I’m shaking with laughter, laughing so hard that I start coughing. He’s laughing, we are simply hysterical with it. After a bit, we calm down again, silent, me still giggling a bit.

“You know how it’s all stuck together and tight…”

And I’m off, laughing myself right back into subspace.

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