a little gifting

Sometimes when I’m lying under Donny, one or both thighs resting on his shoulders, or when I’m on my hands and knees in front of him, his hands spreading the halves of my cling peach ass. and his cock is drilling my pussy with pile-driver precision, sometimes at those moments, I think to myself, why am I doing this?

Why, I wonder, do I give him my body, my pussy mostly, though I suppose he enjoys the other bits and parts too—the shakey-shake of my ass when he drives into me from behind, those subtle and seismic movements like jostling pudding under plastic wrap, the swing and release of my breasts when he fucks me on top—why, I wonder, do I do it?

Most often these gifting times come when I’ve already come. Perhaps I stole a moment or two, put my many projects on hold for three to thirty minutes and fucked myself with economic but effective or lavish and lingering exactitude and given myself some measure of pleasure. Perhaps Donny has already made me come. Perhaps he’s tied me up spread-eagle on my bed, my girlparts exposed and wet-tempting, and plied them with toys and tools and technique, coercing a begrudged and epic yowling orgasm from me. Perhaps he’s taken the minimalist route and used his long fingers and pointy tongue to make me shudder under and around him, maybe making me blurt girlsquirts, a squelchy accompaniment to my banshee song.

Usually, then, these wondering moments when I am looking up at the ceiling partially obscured with my boyfriend’s forehead, or looking down at the pillow clenched in my fists, happen after my pussy has pulsated open and closed like a Koyaanisquatsi film sequence of a morning glory sunrise to sunset. Yet I still wonder: why?

I wonder why because sometimes I find myself lying there in no uncertain pain. Donny’s long cock bumps not ungently against my cervix. His hips slam not uncruelly against my wide-parted thighs. He fucks me with not unremorseless fervor.

Donny likes my little groans and moans of petit-pain. He tells me that he likes the noises I make: the whimpers, the cries, the exhalations of relief, and even better the inhalations that signify my fortitude. He likes when I twist and jump away from him, even as much as he pauses for a moment and asks if I’m all right. He pauses, and then he speeds up again, gutter-whispering “Take it, take it” in my ear, his brow crumpled in intensity.

And I do. I do take it, even if I must admit from time to time wondering why, and just as often wondering when it will be over. Donny has stamina. One night, a winter or so ago, when we were in the off-again position of our then off/on relationship, we were talking on the phone, a phone call that ended up lasting several hours and culminated in his taking a 3:00 a.m. taxi to my house and fucking me in every possible position and hole until the sun started rising, and finally, me on my knees before his cock in the shower, his cock wet in my mouth, my body wet before him, he came with a bellow, nearly collapsing on me, limp with exhaustion.

Donny has stamina.

So sometimes I wonder what am I doing? (And other times when I find myself willing him to just come already, urging him on with tiny expressions of desire, counting his strokes and telling myself that I can take it for just ten more, just ten more, another ten.) Why do I gift him with my parts, my cries, my sighs, my pain, and my patience? Why do I do it when it hurts, when it bores, when it makes me question again and again those simple and childish three letters: why?

I do it, I realize, and do it again, and will do it again in the future, will do it again and again, will withstand the pervy-hard poundings that bring me no ready pleasure, will submit and acquiesce to Donny’s porn-inspired pile-driving fornication, will grin and moan and grimace and take it like a woman, I do it because I love him to my bones. I do it because it makes him happy. Because I trust that if there comes a moment when it’s more than I can take, he’ll stop. Because I like the physical test, the little pain and the willpower that it takes to withstand it. Because the violence of his fucking intrigues me. Because it always amazes me that I can take it.

Because after he comes, Donny slumps spent against my breasts or my back and nestles against me with limitless sweetness.

Because I find myself thinking about it, the most recent bout of forceful fucking, the memory of him using my pussy, of my giving it to him for those swift and simultaneously infinite minutes, for days to come. Because it’s something I can do for him, something that no one has ever given to him before, because it’s mine to give, and because, to my eternal and renewed surprise, I like it.

Comments

[M]

Chelsea Girl, I love your writing. You really capture the convolutions of "thinking" about sex so wonderfully. Also a great insight as to how pain fits into the D/s relationship and becomes a positive part of it. It's so difficult thing to explain to one that is not familiar with the psyche of such things.

[nemo]

your writing is something so cerebral, and so well executed it makes me ashamed to call myself a hack-author.

[The Bastard]

Your timing is impeccable; I needed to read something like this tonight. Thank you.

[Vahri]

Thank you for this great post. There have been times when I have come several times, my jaw, pussy and arsehole are raw and sore and I just want to roll over and sleep but it seems rude and selfish to tell my lover to stop. Perhaps my lover may be tired but thinks he is expected to go all out and fuck my every orifice several times. If you are close enough to your lover, communicate with him or her, tell him or her how you feel. If the relationship is too new for that type of honesty then maybe you have to put up with it so as not to bruise an ego... Difficult decisions. But at least be thankful you have a lover with enough stamina and a nice big cock to wear you out. Not just someone who comes quickly, rolls over and falls asleep!

Vahri

[summerbreeze]

Ego, shmeego. I just tell him I'm good. He likes sitting on my lap and jacking off on my face anyway (and so do I)!

[chelsea girl]

Yeah, it never ceases to amaze me what I now consider to be fun in bed. I suppose when I am not longer amazed, I'll have to stop my pretty dumb things...

Thanks you all..

kissykiss,
chelsea girl

Jesus Christ woman! At times, I'm unable to decide if it's your writing that's so affecting or the wonderfully cerebral way in which you dissect and examine your relationship. Has anyone ever been so thoughtful and honest about the carnal and the emotional in a relationship as you are in your writings here? Not that I know about...

[Flint]

Err, previous comment by Flint

[LJ]

That was beautiful.. truly truly beautiful.. in fact, I may have a certain someone read it :)