It takes almost everything I have in me to say the words, ďthank youĒ in response. My innate reaction to him is to fight, but Iíve had enough pain for today, and Iíve already vowed to myself that today is not the day that I die. At least not literally.
I cling onto the mattress and tighten everything, trying to stop that feeling that is starting to blossom below. My eyes are clenched, my mouth is pressed together. Iím concentrating on not letting that orgasm take over. Itís hardly fair. I havenít been touched in so long, and Iím in my most sensitive (and traditionally horny) week of the month. Fuck! His hands are like magic. Itís growing inside me despite what I want. When I start to wiggle slightly, trying to lighten his pressure, he instinctually follows me and pushes his knee down snugger. My breathing changes, no matter how hard I try not to. Itís audible. Iím already embarrassed and it hasnít even happened yet. I can feel it growing, and yet no matter how much I try to stop it from going over the edge, it only makes it stronger. I can tell itís going to be big. I hate that heís bringing me pleasure. With every part of my being, I hate it. Itís as if my body is telling him that I like this. That I want this. And I donít!
Finally, after a long struggle, it blooms without my consent, completely taking over, a full rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. I canít hold anything in. I shudder with profound pleasure, and a sound to confirm that response. I feel him push his fingers inside me as the walls of my vagina pulse around them. My head is in a euphoric space for a split moment, before the rush of reality hits me again. Iím still. Frozen. Yet still feeling the warmth of one of the most beautiful orgasms Iíve ever had. If I cry, Iíll piss him off. What do I do?? Slowly, I start to roll over, and he lets me. I look at him and smileÖ Methodically. The game is on.