"As the intensity grew it set off the most intense set of orgasms ever. I couldn't tell you what he was doing; I was pure response, aware only of sensation."
Today our connection was intense. I was struggling to be open to the pain until he bit me. It was like a lance through my brain. I needed that, so why the resistance before? I don't know.
For some reason I was almost frightened of the surrender, and now I don't even know why. It wasn't until we were actually fucking that the kinky stuff started. It was gradual to begin with: the sensations were added slowly, and I had no idea where we were going to go from there.
Even now my mind can't fully recollect what happened. I do know that eventually he was slapping me, scratching me, pinching me. I struggled with it still, wriggling to avoid the repeated blows but unable to escape them entirely.
Then he bit me. I had no reserve to resist. I crumpled and cried and cried and cried, and he held me. My sobs were poured into his arms. I had no idea what the emotion was, or even that it had been there at all, but it poured out. I still don't know where it came from.
Somewhere alongside this there was also physical release in the form of orgasm, but that wasn't until we resumed fucking and (I think) it was due to my now well-supplied endorphins. He started to do something to my nipples: I had no idea what it was, but it was something intense and rhythmical. That combined with the motion of riding his cock was… well, it still makes me shiver with delight now.
As the intensity grew it set off the most intense set of orgasms ever. I couldn't tell you what he was doing; I was pure response, aware only of sensation. I do know he bit me again, and again I dissolved into tears. I didn't think there could be more after the first deluge, but the tears came again. I became non-verbal.
He began slapping and pinching me again, and this time I was open to each sensation. He was holding my throat, my hair, my body and fucking me, forcing me into more orgasms. He dragged those out – which is not something I could ever do on my own.
He bit me again. Hard. There was either part of me that was still cognisant, or it was an instinctual response, but I turned myself so that his bite was in a new spot. He bit very hard. I started fucking him but he took over, moving my body as I whimpered.
Both of us were deeply, emotionally open. Why today? I don't know. It just was. I am still astounded by the sobbing snotty mess he was able to create from me. And oh, to be held in that moment. Cared for. Loved. And most of all realising that it was not just there in the bedroom, but throughout our whole relationship…
Republished with permission from SapioSlut. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.