Come Sail Away

Sometimes Malcolm and I sit back and wonder if it's worth it to host events. It's a pain in the ass, lots of responsibility, time, and money. Lots of headaches with people changing their minds last minute. We have hopes of awesome times, we keep faith that all of our events, to date, have been successful. So I took a huge leap and decided to plan a Swinger's cruise. Tons of money on the line, weather to deal with, and a thousand other hoops to jump thru.....and all so fucking worth it.

I was grousing, towards the end, that I didn't wanna do it again. That it had gotten on my nerves, I was loosing confidence, and just wanted the friggin thing over with. Malcolm's mom took ill and landed in the hospital midweek, and then the Hurricane. Both of us overcame hurdles of a ginormous proportion to make this thing happen. But get over them we did, and we had ourselves the largest most successful event to date. I'd gone all out and hired an awesome DJ for the night, and we'd planned games, and door prizes as well. It really was a no holds barred attempt to make our name once and for all. It worked this time.

One of my members graciously stepped up and hosted a preparty at the local tavern. This place has amazing food, and more than half the group showed up for drinks and food before the cruise. We went to the preparty as soon as our room set up was complete, as we knew there wouldn't be any time between leaving the cruise and starting the afterparty to do so. It was hurried for us, because we had to get on board to do party setup as well, but the energy level in the room for this event was fantastic. It was cold, it was raining, but people were acquainting themselves with each other, and looking forward to boarding the ship regardless of the weather. I was struck by how gorgeous this group of people was. Couples, the lot, except for my boytoy Ian, of course, and the vanilla crowd was trying to figure out what this group of scantily clad, hug and kiss loving people were about. That was MINT!! On board, we set up hastily, and the first guests arrived. The bar was open and ready, and so were we, and after a brief delay waiting for a few couples that didn't make it, we set sail on Long Lake.


The music started, and my smart ass DJ chose the theme music from Gilligan's Island to kick it off. LOL...get it a three hour tour and all? LOL...wow. It was on from there. I had one of my right hand ladies make introductions for some late boarders, and we mingled, danced and got ready for the first party game. We'd decided on 3 games, which got increasingly more risque as the night wore on. What we hadn't thought about was that the top deck...open and soggy because of the recent rain, would be JAMMIN with people getting their truly serious Freak on, myself included. Malcolm and I took some early moments to stand at the railing overlooking the water and reflect on where we were, what we wanted, and how things are. His fear of the water recessed as he accepted that there would be no rogue waves killing us all, and for the fact that he couldn't exactly see it either. But the height of that railing, and the great footstool that the picnic table bench made...ahh, that was a great great thing. He bent me over that railing, lifted up my beaded so short skirt to find me naked and waiting underneath it.....and he shoved his cock in hard, slapping my ass as he did so. That was the first hour.

Three hours of that fantastic cruise seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. Everyone had an amazing time, everyone hugged and thanked us on their way out. And more than half of them showed up at our motel room for the after party. The sign of a fantastic party is when nobody wants it to end. And this one had a life of it's own. Starting around 12:30 am, the last guests left about 4 am. There was an ebb and flow to this party, which went between 2 adjoining rooms. It was so incredibly carnal, with the need to feed some sexual need filling people's thoughts even more than the need to drink. Each room was filled with writhing bodies, bodies getting fisted by the boytoy, women learning how to squirt for the first time and screaming out their very very wet releases. Men being sucked dry by talented tongues and mouths. The slap of someone being fucked very hard and deep. The brisk smack of an ass being punished. The moans of men and women coming over and over and over again. And the knowledge that no matter what, Malcolm hadn't finished until he'd finished with me. His cum belongs to me.

I don't honestly remember everything about that afterparty. It tended to take you over until you were part of the collective whole. It was one of those parties that people will talk about for years, and always compare other parties to. Because some small part of everyone's sanity was gone that night. It was all about sex, and pleasure, and more of both of those things than I think anyone thought themselves capable. Unbridled Lust.

I finished my night sandwiched between my boytoy and my lover. Ian filled my mouth and my throat while Malcolm's cock fucked my ass. I was dommed by both of them, and it was my pleasure to serve. It was also my pleasure to fight both of them, and recieve punishment. I've never seen my boytoy so hard as when he could wrap his fist in my hair and force my head down harder on his cock, while Malcolm would put his hand on the back of my neck and force me down harder on that sweet hard irish cock, pushing it farther in my throat until I gagged nonstop, just a continual contraction on the head of Ian's cock. It was the only time Ian came that night, I'd like to think he'd saved it for me. And as Ian finished, Malcolm chose that moment to assert his control and dominance at a new level.

Malcolm had been jealous the few days before the cruise, as family issues threatened to keep him away from it, and from me. I am still blown away that this magnificent bold man can actually feel jealous over ME. Be afraid that HE'd lose ME. Although we don't generally prescribe to jealousy issues in our relationship, this first time had me feeling thrilled that his level of caring has reached that proportion. So he wanted to mate me in all his primal glory, and stake his claim. He got it. He flipped me over on my back, and fucked my desperately sore pussy as hard as he could, slamming it home and hitting the back over and over in a sweaty pounding rhythm. He put his hand print on me in time with his thrusts, trying to get my tears, but only succeeding in making me try to top him from the bottom. I could feel him getting closer, and I hit him back, surprising him with my defiance. But he knew the game, and knew what I wanted. I got it, I got his rage, and his frustration. And I got his cum, filling me up, spilling out, and mixing with my own squirt as i bathed his lower body in my own cum.

He yanked me out of bed, and we headed for the shower where he tenderly ministered to me and kept me from falling. Helping me wash my hair, and all my secret places. Careful not to hurt my sore aching body. He tucked me into bed, put his furnace of a body against my cold skin, and shushed me to sleep, and we slept like the dead for a bit...oblivious to the sun making it's way into the sky. Ian had a cuddle partner as well, and at some ungodly hour, she made her way back into our room and kept him warm as well. I'm glad, as our beds were not set up to accommodate all three of us, and I was sad that Ian was isolated. I need not worry about him, he made an incredibly great accounting for himself, and is already much much loved by the ladies of the group, collectively.

We are now getting ready to plan for the next event. Part of me is afraid... I'm afraid I can't possibly do any better than what I already did. But like Malcolm says, we aren't in this to always try to top ourselves. We're in this because this is what we do, it's who we are. I agree baby.

Girl Power!

I love making love to Malcolm. I love feeling his velvet steel body, comparing and contrasting all his hardness and sculpted planes to my soft curvy body. I love his dominance, his sexual and commanding presence. I love feeling cherished and protected when I'm in his aura. I love knowing he'd do anything for me.


But this blog isn't about Malcolm, to his chagrin. Malcolm was away with his kids this weekend, as I spent the majority of my weekend with mine, and the Balloon Festival. But an opportunity arose that I felt I couldn't pass up, a local party held by a lovely woman I've been wanting to meet forever. The party was literally about 10 minutes away from my house, and would feature, I know, many of the local area groups. As we are in the process of building our group, and promoting a huge event, it seemed the right thing to do for at least one of us to attend, and network. Afterall, people read our posts all the time, it's not cool if they never see us out and about.


So I spoke to him about it, asked his permission, was granted a free pass to enjoy myself however I wanted to, and secured the attendance of a couple of friends as well. There's going stag, and then there is just plain foolish. If I'm going to attend without my mate, at least I can use the opportunity to introduce my friends around. True? We dropped my daughter off at her sitter, and headed to the party.

The set-up was amazing. A large property with house, large cleared yard, several mesh tents with seating, a couple of campers, a huge buffet, and a bonfire. Oh yes, and two play areas, one public, one private. Nice! My friends and I said our hellos and I introduced them to the people I did know, and started chatting with people that knew OF me. It's always exciting to meet new people, and see if that little bit of chemistry is there. Kind of awkward when your significant other isn't there, but I learned a huge lesson last night. Even when he's not with me, his comforting presence is still with me, he's always with me. People have long memories, and the impression that Malcolm casts isn't one that anyone forgets easily. So he was toasted, and boasted, and praised, and loved by all those that have made his acquaintance and can't wait to see him again. I had so much fun, so many great conversations. Our hostess also held a wet t-shirt contest, in which my friend, the girl half anyway, partook in. Watching these ladies get sprayed down with really cold water that made their shirts translucent, and their nipples pucker up nice and hard was such beautiful eye candy. I wanted to touch them all.... sigh!

It was an incredibly muggy night, and I kept feeling a sheen of moisture coating me, unpleasantly warm and humid. Someone mentioned a pool, and for the first time I noticed a small blow up pool, about 30 inches tall. MMM, cool contained chlorinated water. I'm IN! Realizing I was alone in this endeavor, I made for the shadows, stripped my clothes off as quick as I could, and stepped into the water. I went to my knees, and then down on all fours just wanting nothing more than to get wet, and cool. It was such a relief, so pleasurable, I forgot myself for a moment, and didn't notice the eyes that were watching me. I became a bit bashful again, upon noticing everyone looking at me, got out, collected my clothes, and went to where I could more easily dress myself. It was all worth it, I felt so much better. I went to the buffet, and chowed on some delicious pasta salad, some lasagna, mmm, cheeses, you name it, and decided I'd take some time out to sit. A couple joined me...and they've given leave to use their real names. They were such a handsome couple, she...gorgeous, just fucking gorgeous. He...the kind of man I like ALOT. She was beautiful, and lush, and had the best conversation, the best sense of humor, there wasn't anything that WASN'T amazing about this girl. He was hot, shaved, tats that matched with HERS, and an amazing body to boot. Just incredible eye candy the both of them. We had great conversation, my friends came over to join us, and another guy too. I just remember thinking WOW, Malcolm and I could do so much with this couple, I'd just...mmmmm.

I'd made a deal with the sitter not to be out too late, so come 11 pm, I decided I'd better go. Amy, sigh...saying her name is even a pleasure, LOL. Amy so nonchalantly asked if I'd let her lick my pussy. My mind totally blanked for a second, but I thought, I'd rather be licking YOU! So we agreed to trade, and headed for the open playroom. She wanted to go down first, so I crawled up on the gargantuan bed and layed on my back....dropped my knees open and felt her sweeet sweeeet tongue touch me. Jesus GOD she was so...GOOD at what she was doing. She added her fingers, and it was incredible. My friend that I'd attended with made her way into the room, and after letting her know she needed to be naked too, I begged her to sit on my mouth. I wanted to be licking something, but mostly, I wanted to be eating a sweet juicy pussy. My friend agreed, and I pulled her down hard onto my mouth, sucking in her clit in time with how Amy was sucking and licking mine. I don't know if you can really explain the joy in eating pussy. It's smell, it's taste, the texture. Finding the special places that make a woman scream and cum. It's an art, it's something I don't think, once you do it, that you can say you'd never do again. Feeling your tongue against a clit, how it stiffens, it's slightly metallic taste....lol hard to explain but an excited clit has a taste all it's own. Sucking it into your mouth, flicking your tongue over it, coaxing it out of it's little sheltered hood. Oh yeah....and knowing that this gorgeous Amazon of a woman is eating you out, my god.....I came...a few times at least.

Different women have different tastes. Some can be slightly musky, some like smoked almonds. Some taste like the ocean. Some taste very very sweet. Amy is very very sweet. I suspect she eats alot of fruit, because she tastes phenomenal. I woke up this morning still tasting her, and it made me want to roll over and put my head back in her beautiful pussy. But today was for remembering not only how good she is at the giving....but also how amazing she feels when she's receiving. I got to watch her have my friend on her face as well, and knew that's what she'd seen when she was eating me. It made me pulse and clench, made me wish for Malcolms thick cock to fuck me hard while my tongue lapped at her, and sucked her. I wanted to make her scream, I wanted her to feel amazing. I fucked her with my fingers, 3 of them which she took like a champ. In and around, looking for the spot that would make her happy. I think I may have found it, LOL. Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear her screams as they were muffled by the silky folds of my friend's pussy...LOL, how AWESOME is that??

To be fair, her significant other also ate me, and Rick baby, you have a phenomenal tongue. I can't wait to do so much more with him, to know what he feels like all over, in my mouth, in my pussy.....in my ass. I can't wait to meet up with these two again! More than that, I can't wait for MY lover to experience them as well. It was wonderful as a single girl, and it will be fucking amazing as a couple.

I don't often wax on about my bi side, but I haven't had occasion lately to fulfill that side of myself. It was so wonderful to indulge in the wonder of women. I wish I'd had more time to luxuriate in all her curves. I wish I'd been able to do so much MORE. I didn't even have time to sample her amazing breasts, and that is a serious crime. But that is what next times are for, and in this instance, there will be more next times. Sorry Amy, I'm not letting you off the hook that easy hunny!

Obsession

When I started this blogsite, I so wanted it to be free from the drama that plagues my other blogs. I swore this blog would be free from my psycho stalker that has followed me from blogsite to blogsite. I didn't want to include stories about her because her interaction was only with me, her obsession with me and my ex, and this blog was about Malcolm and me, about US and our life together. But things have changed, and she isn't just MY stalker, she's OUR stalker. Her obsession has now grown to include a creepy obsession with all things Malcolm.

She worked her ass off to find this blogsite. I know she had to because this site isn't readily listed anywhere in my other profiles. So she put some effort into searching and searching and searching to find this blog. I see when she reads it, quite regularly, always looking for God only knows what. On the surface she'll say she's looking for evidence that I'm blogging about HER. But since I hadn't for the last couple of months, and she still persists in being a loyal reader then obviously she just likes what I write. I'm ok with her wanting to live vicariously through me. I know my life rocks right now, and that many people would love to be me. I've personally never had this level of fulfillment in my life. But she's always there, like a mosquito near your ear that is so incredibly annoying even though the rest of your life is like the perfect evening. I have to confess that it bothered me when I saw her searching for Malcolm online, and trying to find him. I know she'd like to think she could seduce him away from me. I also know I have nothing to worry about simply because Malcolm is secure and sane. He's SEEN her live and up close, and wasn't impressed in the least. Her attitude and behavior were enough to make him laugh and put his hand up and say "Please, whatever." He readily says that she has absolutely nothing to offer him that he wants, that he'd have to be the horniest, least pickiest guy on the planet to even want the only thing she was offering....pussy. To which he laughed, "I'm not anywhere near desperate, not that she could fulfill me anyways. She would run away from me screaming." I did tell him that she was frantically searching for him online, and emailed him the reports I get from my trackers. He wasn't disturbed though, he thought it was funny. Pathetic, but funny. I relaxed marginally then. She simply wants what I have, no matter what it is. I supposed that is flattering, in some weird, creepy way.

She loves to look at Malcolm's pictures. I have pics of us posted on a couple of sites, swinger and yahoo group. She visits them frequently, looking at how beautiful he is. His lush ass, his ripped chest, his gorgeous thick cock. I wonder if she sees those pictures in her mind when she's fucking my ex, who is still my very good friend. I wonder if she realizes yet that even though how she acted was spiteful, evil, and petty, that I got the better deal when she broke up my relationship. I left my ex. Yes, I left him, not the other way around. He'd begged for more chances, I gave him as many or more than he should have gotten, then I left. And when I left him, my life started over for the better. My relationship with my ex is better than it ever has been because I no longer fret over his infidelities. He can do whatever he likes, it doesn't hurt me. Mostly he makes me laugh with his antics. He knows this, we laugh together. The stalker doesn't like that. In her perfect world, he's not allowed any communication with me. She's very threatened by me. Why? Because I have the mirror. And for her to look in a mirror would be like Medusa seeing her own reflection. She would be turned to stone. Some ugliness goes core deep and can't be covered by fancy makeup or hair dyes. It's an ugliness that initially destroys the viewer, paralyzing them with the truth of their own behavior. The lies, the deceit, the contempt, the inability to take even a fraction of responsibility for their actions. The belief that it's everyone elses fault, and they are the perfect perpetual victim. The need for every fraction of their existence to be entirely about THEM, what Malcolm has termed an Attention Whore.

She'll think I've had conversations with my ex about these things. On the contrary, her behavior speaks for itself. In fact, her need to pursue Malcolm reeks of Attention Whore. Why? Because my blogs don't talk about her anymore. In truth, aside from the constant irritation of her needing to know what I'm doing, even though she claims to hate me, my life doesn't really have room for her. I'm blissfully celebrating every day I get with the man of my dreams. He keeps me hopping, and fills my days with love and laughter. I have a business I'm running, and a beautiful child I'm raising. So I've been remiss in giving her the attention she so desperately craves, if not in person, then at least in writing. How sad that any human being can have so little self worth as to need the validation of ANY attention they can scrape up, good or bad.

So, Medusa...LOL, I think that will be my new name for her. No more Psycho Stalker Bitch, just Medusa. So Medusa, here is your 10 minutes of attention. You are validated. I wrote about you, and you have an excuse to keep coming back to check and see if I'm maligning you in the future. You have an excuse to abuse your man for being my friend. You have an excuse to feel victimized. Yep yep, I've provided for all your needs tonight, except I haven't made you horny with tales of how good Malcolm is sexually. But there are plenty of stories here for you if you need to get off on that. Have a look at his luscious ass and his tight ripped bod while you finger yourself to orgasm. Be careful how you look for him though, catching a tiger by the tail can often result in losing an arm, or having your face chewed off. LOLOL

Dirty Fucking Whore

Today's title has such a sting to it. It's like a virtual HARD slap in the face with some spit added to the end of it, something meant to kill the spirit a little bit when it's uttered, in a most vitriolic fashion, to it's intended recipient. When said in anger, it's the lowest of the lowest insults one lover can hurl at another. Proof positive that they have lost any and all respect for you, that they think you filthy, beyond salvation. Said in anger, it would, in MY book be the knife that severs the relationship cord with the person hissing it at me. I guess that's my self esteem and self respect being at an all time high point currently. But what about when that phrase is said with love?

Malcolm and I have been watching and helping two of our friends deal with toxic and abusive relationships. We watched them struggle to get out of them, one of them running, in the dead of night, to my house in an attempt to secure her own personal safety. The other? Well, we've watched him go in and out and in and out and in and out more times than you can shake a stick. We hoped and prayed he had the fortitude of will and spirit to make this latest break the last one, but it was an ill fated hope. He went back, and will most likely be giving away his last chance at a fresh start. It was from him over this last week that I first heard the term Dirty Fucking Whore uttered. I was so impressed with how fluent his insults had become and was a little taken aback with the extent of his acidity and anger. I even mentioned the phrase to Malcolm, who was really impressed with it. And as we kissed each other, and loved each other, and smoothed our hands over each other's heated skins, building the intensity with each touch, Malcolm whispered in my ear "You know that you are MY dirty fucking whore, right? And I love you so much for it. I want to make you even dirtier. I want to watch you be filthy with me." The words, in his deep love filled cadence, in his hushed commanding tone still makes my pussy throb when I think about it now. He brought me using only his hand and his whispered imagery, his voice that gets into my head and tells me what my life with him will be. He spins pictures that are so complete, so graphic and involved that I only need to hear his voice say "hi", and it calls the imagery instantly to life. He makes me so wet and ready for him with just his words.

Malcolm is my fantasy incarnate. Any scenario I can dream up he's eager and ready to fulfill for my pleasure, and for his. Last night, my God, last night....

Last night, I went to him. Usually, he's come to me. Usually he's entered my home, and claimed me there, in the space that is now ours as much as it is mine. Last night was about him calling me to him, making me come to his hand, to his house, to his home. He was waiting for me, waiting to walk me in the dark so that I would be safe and unafraid. I'd dressed the way I know turns him on, because I love him and I want to turn him on as much as he does me. I had on a short dress, and that was it. No underclothes, just my skin under the thin sheath. He made me walk up the stairs ahead of him, of course, and I could hear his breathing hitch when he placed his hands on me and instantly realized my ass was bare for his hands, ready for his mouth, anxiously awaiting his cock. We fell on each other like starved beasts when we reached his bed, and I pushed him down and told him not to distract me, I had work to do. I undressed him, made him sit at the edge of the bed, and took that beautiful big cock into my mouth licking all around his head, feeling him harden and lengthen into the back of my throat. He loves it when I swallow him and he's still a bit soft. As my throat muscles tighten around him he hardens to his full width and length, going further down my throat, making me gag, massaging him even more. When we started doing this ultra deep-throating several months ago, he'd let me up for air, let me breathe to calm down the sensation of throwing up a little. I no longer have that novice's luxury. It's on whole hog now, and it's part of his plan to make me dirtier and filthier, more of HIS slut and HIS whore than ever. He wants total control over my body, and my objective to is provide him with what he asks for on demand. I have absolutely no reason to tell him no, I would never dream of telling him no.

There are some who really do wonder how deep our kink runs. It runs really deep in several areas, in fact deeper than I'm comfortable talking about in a blog. Perhaps that's because it's new to me, and I'm still shy about doing most of it. But I have found a level of sexual and emotional satisfaction I've never known before with any lover. I would even argue that for every new kink I successfully execute for Malcolm, one more tie linking us even closer together is bound. He giggled today when I called him, still giddy, as was I over last night's encounter. Still intoxicated, as he puts it, over how fulfilling our relationship is in so many ways. Ah yes, back to last night..... holy shit.....

Malcolm will only take so much oral sex before he likes to switch it up so that it will last and last. My ass being naked was way too much for him to ignore. He'd been diligent in protecting his bed from the enormous mess we always, without fail, seem to make. He had his toys ready and waiting for me, and his first order of business, after soaking his cock in my very very wet pussy, was to open my ass with his big dildo. It was uncomfortable, as the first penetration usually is, but he soon added his own cock into my pussy as a distraction. Our dream of a DP is still alive and needing to be re-enacted. Once simply wasn't enough. He fucked me with both himself and his dildo until he was ready to claim HIS spot. I swear if he could keep his cock in my ass all day, he'd do it. He loves fucking my ass, loves it more when it makes me squirt and come and scream. He isn't gentle, he isn't slow. Malcolm flails on my ass, spreading my cheeks so that he can penetrate me down to his balls. He will get above me, pressing my head and neck into the mattress while he slams his cock deep deep inside me, slapping my ass to make me squeeze him. He knows just how to play me. And when he wants to feel me cum....AGAIN....he'll put 2 of his fingers into my pussy, and rub his own cock through that so thin membrane.

He ate my pussy then, the cum streaming out of it and soaking him...and the bed...too much for him to ignore any longer. His mouth hits my clit and I can only scream with the intensity of it. I feel it building, and lately, I have these mini orgasms that just won't fulfill me. I need his hand, and I begged for it. "Please daddy, please please please", using my hand to push his hand to my wetness, knowing he'd know what I wanted. I felt his 3 fingers, and it was so tight, I had to breathe thru it, relax and breathe until I could accept his whole fist. And he got it in last night. I felt him pound into me, bumping my cervix as he continued to eat my clit. God....and the squirting started, I could hear it squelching out of me, and then it's warmth cascading down my legs, and I couldn't stop cumming, I had to fuck his hand because it was too painful NOT to fuck him back....that exquisite pressure driving me to complete the circle, to cum and cum again until I was too spent to do it again. It makes him so hard knowing that he can invade my body with his in any way that pleases him. He gloated about it on the phone today, letting me know that just thinking about doing it to me made him ready again. He was truly an amazing lover last night (as always), rising to the next level yet again.

He marked me last night in yet a new and exciting way. The most personal way yet, in fact. I revel in those times he is primal, almost like a tomcat needing to spray his territory to mark it against the others. I really do feel like I belong to him utterly now, as I am marked inside and out. Some marks are superficial, like love bites that mar the surface and stay with me for days afterwards. But then there are those other ones. His pheromones are all over me. I can't imagine another man trying to claim me now, I feel like I positively radiate his scent. Not literally, obviously. LOL, we washed the barn scent off last night. But something of that never really leaves me anymore. I belong to him. I could shout it to the world because I'm so PROUD to belong to him. He loves me, and he shows me in a million ways how much. I'll wear his scent with my head held high crowing about how much I love my life. Likewise, he wears mine and is equally as proud. He held me tight and assured me that no matter how many crazies are searching for him and desire to steal him away, that they could never compete with me. Thank you daddy, for your sensitivity, and for your laughter at that psycho situation. I'm so glad you picked me. I love you, you make me deliriously happy.

He called me early this morning to tell me how much he'd enjoyed last night. Again, because of our children, we didn't have the whole night, but enough of it to last us a few more days. I had to tell him how the rest of my night went after I got home. The truth, and I always try to give him the unmitigated truth....the truth was that I couldn't stop thinking about what we had done, and how naughty I am with him now. It made me hot, it made me need to cum again....and again after that......and one last time until my hand started to cramp from rubbing my own pussy so much. I could smell him on me again, and I drenched my fingers in my own cum because I knew his was still in me, and I ate us down as I came over and over. Oh, and I refused to wash my hair because there was just that small chance that his scent was still there too. LOLOL, and NO he didn't bust a load on my head.

I'll have to cum again, now that I've written it all out because remembering it again has made me wet. Perhaps tonight I'll use the vibrator, probably in my ass so that I can remember the feel of his hard cock in it's favorite place. The vibration will make my pussy cream, and rubbing my clit will make me cum until I scream. I'll tell him about it in the morning, and he'll have all day to plan how to get me back for turning him on so early. Payback is a bitch sometimes.