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.