So, after the disastrous debacle of the day before, you might think I would be reluctant to hop back onto the Eurostar the very next morning to do it all over again.

But how wrong you would be‎!

This time, however, I had whittled down my sex partners to “just” the Edge. Initially, we had planned to invite another female to join us, but this plan, as is so often the case, had fallen through, and I was secretly a little relieved, because, now that I have participated in several of these things, I can tell you with some confidence that threesomes are not anywhere near as exciting as one expects. In fact, they’re kind of… well, boring. I know it sounds like a fun idea, but in reality, everyone is on his or her best behaviour, to make sure no-one feels offended, or excluded, or fat. And, if you’re really horny – which you would be, if you’ve been thinking about threesomes – then be prepared to be totally unsatisfied, because there’s no way one man can satisfy two women. ;)

“Hmm,” mused the Edge, slipping his fingers under my leopard-print thong. “You’re not quite as wet for me as you were for AR yesterday…”

A few moments later, I was lying on the bed on my back, with my legs raised up on either side of my head, the leopard-print thong flung to the floor and the Edge’s dick inside my pussy, while he marvelled at how, no matter how long it had been since I had last had sex, I always seem to have been starved of it for years. It’s true that I always feel as though I’ve been starved of it for years, probably because, in the way famine survivors tend always to overeat, I carry with me forever the memory of my desperate adolescent years, spent in a highly repressed environment where sex was an arcane and secret thing, and not something every single person around the world has been doing since the beginning of the human race. And certainly not something which I thought would ever happen to me. So every now and then I’ll think to myself, here I am with a man in a hotel room, and he’s fucking me!!! And it just seems – oh! too good to be true!!

“I hope that’s taken the edge off a little,” said the Edge, lying next to me, stroking my pussy.

“It has,” I assured him. But it hadn’t, of course. I wanted him to touch me, to toy with me, to slowly bring me to the brink… and that’s what he was doing, his fingers lightly brushing against the hood of my clitoris, listening for the sharp intake of breath which let him know I was close, and then quickly diverting my attention by reaching down to play with my pussy, or my ass, spreading my slick wetness down around the puckered hole, making me squirm, for I was still a little traumatised from the day before.‎

“Don’t forget, you must ask me for permission before you come,” he reminded me, gently. But how could I know when to ask, as every time I got close, he moved his fingers away again, skirting always just around the edges of this incredible eruption building up inside me? My entire body trembling at his touch, I gazed into his eyes, knowing that only he had the power to lead me just that little bit further, silently beseeching him to take me there. Finally I felt I was on the brink, and I asked him to let me come. He told me to count backwards from 30. I did, trying to time things so that I would be able to come right at 0, but when I got there, he said, “stop!” I held my breath, my whole body quivering, right on the edge, until he said, “go”!

“Your cunt is going to get no rest today,” he said, as he continued to stroke it, gently now that I had come. “Don’t close your legs… they must always be open for me.”

I spread my legs wide and offered him my still-tingling pussy. Although it was not the first time I had relinquished control of my body, I had never done it so willingly. My eyes never left his as I let him slowly tease me to another orgasm, my pussy swollen and slippery, practically dripping down my trembling thighs. He told me to get on my hands and knees then, and entered me from behind, my ass raised up towards him, his cock sliding easily into my slick pussy.

“Do you want it hard or gentle?” he asked me.

“I never want it ‘gentle’,” I scoffed.

He pushed my head down into the bed, with his weight on my shoulders, pressing my face into the pillows so I could hardly breathe. Immobilised, all my attention was focused on my pussy and his dick pounding into it, slamming into my G-spot which was still engorged from my climax just moments before, and it wasn’t long before I felt myself getting close again. I opened my mouth to ask his permission, but no meaningful words emerged, as all I could do was gasp into the pillow, shuddering helplessly in the throes of orgasm. I slumped forwards slightly, with my ass still raised and my legs apart, and then I felt a cold dab of lube land on my bottom as he told me to decide how I wanted to be fucked up the ass: on all fours, or on my back. I felt completely dazed and unable to think, let alone respond, so I just mumbled something incoherent and he slapped me sharply on my pussy. I yelped in surprise, as, of course, with my head still buried in the pillows, I hadn’t seen it coming, but I still couldn’t move or speak, so he gave up, lying back on the bed.

“I guess you don’t want it, then,” he said. I smiled secretly to myself, because I didn’t really want it, not after yesterday’s ass torture at the hands of the Anal Rapist.

“I’m sorry I came without asking,” I told him.‎

“Well, don’t let that lube go to waste,” he said, sending me off unsteadily in search of my butt-plug. He watched as I reluctantly inserted it, grimacing in pain, and then gasping a little as I felt it stretching me, pressing up against my G-spot and sending a small shiver down my spine! But I couldn’t come just from inserting a butt-plug – that would be too ridiculous, so I took a couple of deep breaths and crawled back into bed. And yet as I lay there, completely still and unmoving, I could feel my clitoris gently pulsating, like a little homing beacon in the centre of my body. And sure enough, his fingers sought it out again, gently probing, lightly caressing, slowly drawing it out again, and I felt the most incredible sensation flooding my body – I felt completely drunk, caught up in a crazy vortex of drunken excitement, with all senses sharpened and heightened, and all of the most wonderful things in life, like ice-cream cones and sunny days and kisses, had all come together, all rolled into one, in that moment.

“Can I come?” I asked him.

“What’s it worth?” he asked, as he always does, and usually I feel like saying, “nothing!”, just to show him that I’m not a slave to my orgasms after all, but this was really no ordinary orgasm – I could feel myself on the precipice of something truly marvellous and incredible, and it was really something which one would do anything to experience, so I said, “anything”, but that wasn’t enough for him, he wanted something more specific. So I closed my eyes and thought, and then I said, “I’ll step out into the corridor naked.” And he thought about it for a moment and then said, “OK.”

(And the funny thing is that I’ve been drunk, high, and stoned, back in my university days, and it never impaired my judgement, not even slightly – I never made a miscalculated move or comment – and yet there I was, under the influence of these endorphins coursing through my veins, gaily and quite nonchalantly offering to do something which I find completely petrifying now!)

But oh! it was so worth it!‎

I lay back, my body ringing like a bell, thinking that I couldn’t possibly come any more, but knowing that whenever I think this, in fact quite the opposite thing has happened – I have entered the Coming Zone, in which the orgasms ebb and flow like a river, and  I am always either coming or right about to come. I have experienced this before, so I can’t give the Edge credit for having discovered it with me, but he is the only person to wilfully take me there. Before, it had been something mysterious, incomprehensible, and wholly unpredictable, but now, to know that he can make it happen… well! How can I be anything but a lost cause?

So I lay there beside him, thinking all these things – or maybe not thinking anything – and meanwhile he was running his fingers along the underside of my breasts, circling my erect nipples, and occasionally rubbing or tweaking them, and every time he did, it felt as though he were plucking at an invisible string connecting my breasts to my clitoris, for I felt an inexplicable tug down below, and moaned involuntarily as the curious sensation grew stronger and stronger each time. It didn’t seem possible that I could come just from his fingertips on my breasts, even though it has happened before (and that is something which I discovered with him), because I have a tendency to doubt myself and even to ask myself, is this real? or am I just pretending? to myself??

But I could feel my pussy contracting, my whole body convulsing as I came – there was really no doubting or denying it. He began to ask me about my breasts – had they always been so sensitive? I told him I didn’t think they were particularly sensitive – not usually. And all the while he was still playing with them, still teasing and toying with my nipples, until I found it hard to concentrate on what I was saying, and finally, couldn’t continue at all, for my legs were writhing together, my pussy clamping down, clenching, so tightly. I was gasping, and giggling, but more than anything, brimming over with the desire to be filled.

“Fuck me!” I pleaded, with wild abandon.

“Is that how you ask for it?” he scolded.‎

“Please, please fuck me…”

He made me get back on all fours and fucked me hard, pushing down my shoulders again to bury my face in the bed, and this time, throwing a pillow on top of my head as well. I came madly, biting down on the pillow to keep from screaming!

“I’m going to fuck your arse now,” he told me. “And you’re going to tell me how you want it.”

“Like this – like this on all fours,” I gasped breathlessly. He pulled out the butt-plug and slowly slid his dick into my ass instead. I squealed in protest as the pain shot like fire through my body. God, I was still so sore from the day before. He ignored my cries and continued to fuck me. I decided to just put up with it, hoping he would come soon.

“How does that feel?” he asked me.

“Great,” I lied, resisting the urge to tell him my ass was on fire.

“Well then turn around and get on your back,” he told me. “I want to watch your face as you come with my dick up your arse.”

I groaned in dismay, cursing myself for claiming, just minutes before, that anal orgasms were the best. What demon had possessed me to say that?? I am not such a masochist that I would be able to come in the midst of this excruciating pain. But I reluctantly acquiesced, hoisting my hips up onto a pillow to give him a better angle at which to penetrate my aching ass. It hurt again when he entered me, but a little less this time. He asked if I wanted it hard and deep. I could hardly say “no” – I have my reputation to protect. So I glumly said, “yes”. He began to fuck me hard and deep, as I had, after all, just requested. And gradually – finally – the pain began to die down a little, and before it could really even give way to pleasure, before I could start to settle in and enjoy it, I was already beginning to experience the unmistakeable signs of impending anal orgasm – the violent, uncontrollable shaking, starting in my legs, and then moving upward, and turning all my muscles into jelly, just sort of liquefying me from the inside. And just as he saw what was happening, he pulled out and forced my head down onto his cock, straight from my ass, to swallow his spurting come.

If I had felt like I was drunk earlier, I now felt completely drugged, lying in his arms, fitting so perfectly against him, with my entire body in a state of blissful euphoria. I could feel nothing – not the slightest ache, twitch or tremor, every inch of me entirely relaxed, beyond feeling, all but my ravaged rectum, which glowed contentedly like a warm, bright ember! I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. And I didn’t want to move, no, never again.

But somehow, the next thing I knew was that I was crouching in the shower, laughing helplessly while a golden stream of urine hit my open lips, spilling out onto my bare breasts and all over my body!

“Don’t forget you owe me a naked hotel corridor dash,” he said, contemplating me where I knelt, somewhat flustered, in a pool of urine.

“It wasn’t a ‘dash’”, I objected. “I only said I’d ‘step out’ into the corridor naked.”

“All right,” he relented. “But I get to close the door behind you…”


6 thoughts on “Primus Inter Pares

  1. I would love to; could you illustrate your next post with an image of you wearing nothing but them?

    OK, and maybe the leopard-print thong, if you must retain some shred of modesty.


  2. My but the Edge is really getting to know you isn’t her? Even better than you know yourself! And you’re so comfortable with him. Dare I say it? I’m a little jealous


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