The Wank Band

It is simple to keep the bathroom clean on a daily basis. Some people may try to do too many things each day when they can do it quickly and easily. Here are some tips on my daily bathroom cleaning routine:

1. Shower/Tub

After showering, quickly wipe it down with a cloth. Make sure that it is clean before getting out of it.

2. Toilet

Use a toilet brush to clean out the bowl. A good cleaner will do the trick.

3. Sink

The sink needs to be checked. Be sure that it is wiped out thoroughly.

4. Mirror

Remove any smudges from the mirror. Windex is a good cleaner to use.

5. Floor

Check the floor for any spots. Make sure that it all looks great before leaving the room.

Weekly Cleaning

You only need to do the major cleaning once a week. That is when you really scour everything down. The shower/tub, toilet, sink, mirror, and floor. Be sure that this is a deep clean so that it always smells and looks its best in your bathroom. You will be glad that you do this once a week so that it doesn’t get out of hand. I’ve also installed a new drawer storage in my bathroom from bathroom remodeling in Fredericksburg to keep my stuff clean and organized.

Cleaning Products

Most people like to pick their own cleaning products. They will find that by using coupons, promotions, discounts, and sales that they will be able to get some great prices on the goods. Having a good supply on hand is mandatory so that cleaning can be completed when it is needed.

For the daily cleaning, just follow my tips above. You will only be at it for about 5 minutes and your bathroom will look clean and fresh. Since most people are on tight schedules by following the tips above, you will be able to get it done in no time at all.

I wanted to get Amy a collar that she’d love, but I just couldn’t seem to find the perfect one. In the end, we decided to settle for something nice, to avoid wasting too much effort on the collar. After all, it was only a symbol.

Luckily, however, Amy found the perfect one for us and just a few days ago I told her how great the collar was. I liked putting it on her, it was quite notable and made me more aware of her and so on.

“Really,” she responded. “I thought those things didn’t matter to you.”

I pondered for a moment, then answered with “I guess I was wrong.”

“Oh,” said Amy, tragically NOT considering for a moment. “Which time?”

This short article is written by one of the members of a hood cleaning company in Atlanta.

I’m watching Bob sleeping next to me and I’m thinking that he still looks great for his age. Too bad he doesn’t allow me to post photos of him on my blog, so I can’t show you how handsome he is. Anyway, to make a long story short, I’m happy to have this rare opportunity to watch him sleep. Usually I’m the one who sleeps in.

Yesterday we went shopping for stuff for our next camping weekend. We also stopped to pick up prescriptions, as he needs an Epi-pen and I need my migraine medication. We managed to fill our cart in almost no time, as I wanted to get some supplies for the winter. Since these supplies included a whole lead of wild sockeye salmon, I asked Bob to pick up the prescriptions while I headed for the big coolers. He agreed and I started to search for the coolers. Apparently, this Costco is nothing but a grease trap that makes customers buy more than they need by moving around departments, sections and aisles.

This time the problem was actually different. After asking an employee to show me where their big coolers were, the guy checked and told me that all Costcos in your neighborhood were out of them. I headed over to the pharmacy to find Bob looking annoyed. He told me that he didn’t pick up our prescriptions, as he had no idea about what I needed. He didn’t know that he only needed to give our names to have the prescriptions.

We hot into the line, bracing up for a long wait. As Bob was quiet, I asked him what was wrong. He must have felt the irritation in my tone, as he told me I was being rude. He was right. More often than not he is very kind to me, particularly when I’m anxious or nervous. He has quite a high tolerance threshold and I’m grateful for that. Nevertheless, sometimes I lose it and my lack of respect annoys him a lot.

I value a respectful relationship too. Like many other women, I take pride in being efficient and very well organized. This is what helps me keep my family happy and healthy. In my previous marriage, I was keen on holding control over everything concerning our home and our family. The advantage of this approach was that everything was done exactly how I wanted it. The drawback was that it made me feel like my husband’s mother rather than his spouse. Without knowing it, I was slowly but surely turning into a bitch. I could be so bitchy!

The truth is that I hate myself when I’m too bitchy. This attitude hurts me as much as it hurts my partner, if not more. Most of you probably think that this wasn’t a big deal. I know it was only a small thing, but I felt it like the beginning of something much uglier. Today I snap at Bob, and tomorrow I turn into the biggest bitches of all.

My belief is that being disrespectful can have a negative impact on a relationship. I should definitely discuss this with him when he wakes up. I love our relationship and I would do anything to nurture it and to make it even stronger. Bob is too kind, so I expect him to withdraw. The last thing I want is to challenge him or to become disrespectful. After all, I’ve decided to give him full power over our relationship. I’m not going to take it back now, as that would be nothing else than pure betrayal from my side. This kind of betrayal is similar to cheating on your husband after agreeing to be monogamous. How could he ever trust me again after that?

The fact is that I have no intention to change the status quo of our relationship. I DO want him to have full power over our relationship. This is something that requires trust on both sides. My snapping at him shows me that I still have trust issues I’m trying to overcome.

What is the reason why I’m struggling so hard with trust right now? Maybe it has something to do with giving Bob control over family finances. This doesn’t mean I don’t trust him to pay the bills or anything like that. And if he forgot to pay some bills, so what? We would pay them and have our utilities restored in no time. I think my fear is that he won’t be able to manage our finances as well as I can do it. I know this is ridiculous, but this is the way I feel and there’s no point in denying it.

On the positive side of things, I love Bob’s down to earth approach to life. However, I’ve worked so hard to raise my kids that I’m not ready to put up with a personal finance mess that would take many years to recover from. I trust him to do the right things, but I can’t stop myself from worrying about our finances and about the future of my children. I strongly want to get them through college without problems.

Now I need to let go and allow Bob to handle all financial stuff for us. I could consider it as a relief, since he’ll be taking this burden off my shoulders to make my life easier. I should actually be grateful, as this is nothing but a gift. I can free up my mind and my time to invest in things I love, to nurture my passions and to discover new hobbies and new activities. Life can be beautiful when you have someone like Bob by your side. If only I could let go of this need to control everything in the house!

I’m keen on trusting Bob to manage our finances. Nevertheless, building trust takes time. Until I reach this point, I probably need to stay respectful and give him time to figure out all these things. Submission is hard to deal with. Besides, it there’s nothing real sexy about it, as I never imagined a BDSM relationship going this route. I’m determined to hang up in there until I achieve the level of trust I need to be truly happy. O know this moment will come, should I have enough patience to hold my horses in such situations.

This is all for now. I’ll have a talk with him when he wakes up. I’ll keep you posted, so make sure you subscribe to my feed to know when I publish new articles.

I am lying on the couch while Richard plays Blokus with the kids. We just had a lovely dinner – grilled tri-tip, green beans and baked potatoes, and then a carrot cake that I baked on the grill (whee! that was an adventure!).

I have a migraine.

As some of you know, I had an almost constant headache from mid-December to mid-May. Since then, I’ve had a migraine about once every 3 to 4 weeks, and it only lasts a day or so. But this week I’ve been having recurring headaches and migraines, like earlier in the year. I’ve also been moody and sad pretty regularly. I think it’s hormonal. Bah.

Last night I had a little bit of a meltdown, explaining to Richard why I was a lazy, irresponsible, stupid, fat, ugly blah blah blah blah. He pointed out that I’ve been trying to do way too much, given that the kids are home for the summer and I haven’t been feeling well. But I wasn’t having it; I’d been avoiding my work, letting the house get disorganized, and spending too much time on avoidance net-surfing (blech, I think it’s time for an internet ban/rollback). He told me that I needed to stop arguing with reality.

Arguing with reality is one of my biggest weaknesses. In a way, I think I’ve come as far as I have professionally because of this personality trait. Never satisfied, always pushing harder, wanting more. But now I’ve got this great life, great career, great kids, great home, perfectamazingwondermous husband. Now arguing with reality is just a pain in the neck.

I woke up this morning, hurting and exhausted, and my sweet Richard brought me coffee. I snuggled up against him and we talked and drank our coffee. I started feeling better but I was still in a bit of a funk. So I switched between whining and apologizing for whining, and grousing and apologizing for grousing.

Richard laughs and says “No, I want you to whine. Come on, little girl. Whine for me.”

“Dadddddy. Nooo. I don’t want to whine.”

He chortles. “That’s great. Good whining. C’mon. Whine some more.” And he wraps me up in his strong arms and holds me while I squeak “nooo. I don’t want toooo. let me goooo.” My face is buried in his chest so my voice is muffled.

“Good. Now get cranky. Remember I even love the parts of you that you don’t. I want to hear cranky Amy. I love my cranky girl.” He laughs again, while I struggle to free myself. I’m laughing and whining and laughing at my whining and then I suddenly realize that I can feel his cock against me and it’s hard.

As I do, he pulls my hand down to his cock and says “Do something useful while you’re complaining.” So I play with him for a couple of minutes while he continues to tease me, and then he says “Now I’m going to fuck you”.

And he does, and he makes me come while he’s sucking hard on my breasts, and then he fucks me again. After he comes, still inside of me and on top of me, he says “Oh baby girl, that was SO GOOD.”

It was. And it is.

Learning to submit to Richard has made me so happy and content. If only submitting to reality could be as easy.

xoAmy

Richard said that is going to be his new name. I have to refer to him at all times as “Sir Lord Master Slavebeater”. Without laughing, mind you.

I told Richard that I’m going to start collecting things he says like this (a constant occurrence) and post them under “Richardisms”.

Hope y’all are having a great day. We’re about to go for a long walk. Yesterday we had a wonderful picnic and watched the sun set on the beach while our dogs gamboled around us. I love summer!

xoAmy

Amy checking out the golf course behind our room.

I just wanted to add a bit about our stay at the resort out near Palm Springs before going on.  We had the kids, and in the same room as us, so this was a very family oriented holiday.  Quite spontaneously entered into, as I believe Amy as already pointed out.

Almost all I saw of her for two days.

Amy’s first time in a “Lazy River” style of water ride.  She’s never been to a real waterpark – seems rather tragic!  Anyway, she likes to ride low in the water and shut out the distractions – whereas I’m always riding high on the tube and looking to cause trouble.

Amy thinks this picture is redundant – she thinks nobody wants to see another cleavage shot of her.

Turned out to be a great adventure for all of us, a mini holiday with lots of water time.

A lot of things happen to me on our stairwell. Richard has grabbed me and fucked me there a few times, and photographed me (including I think the first pic of me posted on this blog, right before a spanking, and one in my “wiggle dress”). A couple of days ago we were walking down it, having a discussion about my collar, and I got in trouble right there on the stairs (Richard is planning to write about this, so I won’t say anything else about it.)

Anyway. I was walking down the stairs yesterday morning, to make coffee and get the newspaper for Richard. The dogs were tumbling around me, and I thought about how I have trained them. And I realized that Richard has trained me in exactly the same way.

The dog I had before these dogs was hell on wheels. It wasn’t Trixie’s fault; she was a breed that is specialized for specific tasks and is very high energy. I “clicker trained” her and trained her to both voice command and hand signals. Which required a lot of reading and a lot of practice and a lot of frustration. At the end, I had a dog who behaved well on a lead when there were no other stimuli around. Otherwise all bets were off. I never felt connected to her. I would look in her eyes and there was crazy there. She did exactly what she was told to do when she was told to do it, but that was it.

When I got the first of the dogs we have now, I was too busy to train her right away (except to a lead, “come” and “sit”, of course). I’m so glad now that I didn’t. Five years later, she responds immediately to any command I give, on leash or off, other stimuli or no. (This isn’t completely true; if Richard has his camera out she will not leave his side because she loves the reflection from the lens.)

The other dogs, who I have not had for as long, are exactly the same. I don’t know if they learned from her or if it’s because we are almost inseparable. The latter is what I want to talk about in re Richard’s training of me.

Richard isn’t into protocols and training regimes and lots of rules. Sometimes I think it would be fun to have more of that kind of dynamic (it’s sexy!) but mostly I’m glad. We’re both busy people and clearly don’t need all that for me to feel submissive to him, and him to feel ownership of me. However, we have both noticed that I obey him instinctively and often even anticipate his needs and wishes. And my obedience and anticipation are getting stronger and more pronounced with time.

What I realized on the stairs (I finally get to this – jeez) is that: the dogs obey me immediately and completely at a level that I never expected, especially without explicit training. They know me and what I want and need because they are with me constantly and pay close attention to me at all times. I know them for the same reasons. And I let them know what I want while at the same time trusting them not to need the uber-control of clickers and hand signals and all that. I respect their dog nature, if you will.

Similarly, I am able to obey and serve Richard at a level that (he tells me) he never experienced before, even though he has been involved with someone who saw herself as a high protocol slave (I realized as I wrote this that you could compare her quite aptly with Trixie). I think that’s because we are always together and I am always paying close attention to him (as he does me). He doesn’t choose to micro-manage me. He tells me what he wants, and then trusts me to get it right (Richard says that I should add “and he gets cranky when I don’t” lol).  He respects my slave nature (grin).

This post was a lot trickier to write than I expected! We have a big day ahead of us, so I’ll stop now. I’m keen to see what others’ experiences have been with this. How do you trade off explicit training/ control with simply knowing your Master/Owner/Daddy or partner?

xoAmy

Hi everybody!  Thanks for the good wishes from everyone who responded to Richard’s last post.  And thanks to poor Megan, who ended up minding the fort for us during our extended absence.  Since she was the last one to write a post, all of the questions about “where are you?’ ended up in her email inbox.

The past year was very challenging for me, and I don’t know how I would have survived it (truly) without Richard’s love and caretaking.  As he said though, it has slowed down our BDSM play because I was in so much pain that it didn’t seem like much fun to inflict even more.

But I don’t want to warble on about how boring our last year was.  It was bad enough to live through it; I don’t want to have to write about it too.  And I’m quite sure, trust me, that it would not be a great read.  Instead, I want to talk to you about what we have been exploring lately.

A few weeks ago, I went on Second Life (aka SL) for a work-related activity.  Both Richard and I had explored SL a small amount before.  Megan talked me into going on because she had met many friends and had a lot of fun there.  It hadn’t really clicked for us, though.

For the two people on the planet that don’t know about SL, here is a brief description.  It is probably the most popular Multi-User Virtual Environment (MUVE), which is exactly what it sounds like.  When you go to SL, you are given an avatar, a 3D computer “person”, that you can move through the virtual environment that is SL via your keyboard controls.  (I am sure there are much better descriptions of SL on Wikipedia or something.)

My first few hours on SL were probably similar to that of many people.  In fact I read that SL is working on its “first hour experience”.  Which is at present…weird.  My first hour I did a lot of embarrassing things.  I ran into a lot of walls and slammed up against a lot of ceilings, as I learned how to control my avatar (this wasn’t such a problem for Richard, who has played a lot of computer games).  I accidentally took off all my clothes in a PG kind of area.  I asked a large group of people if I could go to the bathroom, because I thought I was sending a private message to Richard (yes *sigh* I still have to get permission to use the bathroom).

I also thought my assigned avatar was really, really ugly.  So then I spent a lot of time shopping for a new “skin” and “shape” and clothing.  Which was boring.  I’m not a big shopper.  In fact Richard ended up doing a lot of that for my avatar.

Which brings me to why I am still on SL (as amy247 Waverider – come find me if you are on!).  Richard loves it, and that is making me start to love it.  Why hadn’t I realized the potential of SL before?  Let me count the ways.  First, we have been hungering for community (the focus of many discussions, and still no good answers).  SL is one way of developing a community of like people.

Second, Richard is so, so visual and in fact he has helped me realize that I am also a very visual person.  SL is in some ways like fetlife or bondage.com (where we met), but with a visual element.   Everyone on SL is gorgeous.  Well, except for the people who don’t want to be gorgeous, like zombies.

Finally, SL is kink friendly.  SL is generally a more open and accepting place than our real life (RL, in SL-speak).  I told Richard that it reminds me of Burning Man.

Here are the cool things we have done over the last few weeks.  We went to a lot of clubs.  It was surprisingly romantic to slow dance together and surprisingly sexy to have sex on the floor while other people watched. But I ended up spending a lot of time dealing with IMs from newbies.  In spite of being WITH Richard, and my profile (you can click on a person’s avatar to get info about them) saying that I am owned by him.  I guess it’s a low cost strategy to IM whatever female avatars are in the room and say such gems as “Amy u mak me hornie.”

Then Richard discovered the camera function on SL. Hehe.  Guess what Richard did for the next few days?  He went to every BDSM club and rough sex club and strip club in SL, I think.  And he took (and continues to take) some terrific pictures.

So then he decided to open his own gallery.  It was very cool; he had a realtor take him around and he bought some land.  Then he learned to build and he built a gorgeous gallery from the ground up.  It’s called Predator (appropriate name, huh?).  Come visit.  It’s got RL pics of me (I think most were first posted on this blog), and some really amazing SL pics.

When Richard was doing a search on the word “predator”, he found a simulation that we have ended up spending a lot of time on.  It seems made to order for Richard, honestly.  It’s called Kingdom of Sand, and it is basically a bunch of predators (slavers, Bedouin, Magi) that chase around prey (slaves) and also fight with each other.

Richard loves it.  He became a slaver right away.  I thought it was telling that the outfit he had chosen for his avatar when we first got to SL was almost identical to what the other slavers wore (a kilt, no shirt and tattoos).  He says that chasing prey is exhilarating; fighting feels more like something you just have to do, and once he’s caught the prey it’s not as interesting.

I’m feeling a little intimidated by it, although I really enjoy the role-playing.  I’m kind of scared of all the predators.  And I’m struggling with jealousy when Richard catches another slave girl.  I feel like such a dork; it’s not real, I know he loves only me, he doesn’t get jealous when the slavers ogle me, blablabla.  But I had a dream two nights ago.  My wedding ring, which is antique platinum filigree with little diamonds, broke into tiny pieces and fell into the sand I was walking over.  I tried to pick up the pieces, but they kept sifting through my fingers and falling into crevices in the sand.

Richard hasn’t chased anyone since I told him about my insecurity.  He says that he is focused on making tattoos (and he just made some awesome nipple rings for my avatar!).  But I know it’s because he is worried about me.  I feel so ashamed of my response and part of me wishes I hadn’t told him (although I tell him everything, and Richard says I’m not allowed to keep things like that to myself).

I think SL could be a great place for us to explore things that are difficult to explore in RL – eg I already have a couple of tattoos and now piercings, and Richard could explore sharing me (a big part of his sexuality and a big scary for me in RL).  But if I can’t put on my big girl panties and be clear on the distinction between RL and SL, then none of that can happen. I would love to get some advice on this from those of you more experienced in SL.

OK, gotta go feed my family and get some work done.

Salaam and safe paths, : )

amy

Long-time readers of our blog know that my friend Megan, who had a huge impact on my blossoming as a sexual submissive, now lives far away from us with her wonderful, evil Master.  I have missed her like crazy and have been counting the minutes until we saw her this summer. We just left after spending four nights with her and her Master.  I was in seventh heaven and, as usual when I am with Megan, learned a lot about being submissive and being myself.

She and Robert (her Master) pulled up to where we were staying and I ran over to their car.  Robert got out first and I said “hi!” and hopped up and down waiting for Megan to get out.  Then I realized she was waiting for Robert to let her out of the car, like Richard makes me do.  So I gave Robert a big hug and waited for him to go around and open the door for Megan.

The first thing I saw was a tanned foot in a 3-inch beaded sandal, with red toenails and toe rings.  Followed by a long, shapely, tanned leg.  And then another.  Then a tall, gorgeous blond with a tiny little dress unfolded from the car.  Perfectly styled hair, knockout make-up, and of course the trademark killer body.  Wow!

Megan has always been jaw-droppingly gorgeous.   But she had entered a new realm of beautiful.  And the most beautiful thing was her face, because she was glowing.  Just radiating love, happiness, self-confidence.

I don’t think I stopped hugging her for an hour.

We stayed up talking for hours.  I can’t tell you how thrilled I am about her Master (I keep starting to say “new Master” but of course he’s not; they’ve been together for over a year now.)  I told Megan that of course I would always care about whoever her partner was, but Robert is someone I would want to be friends with even if they weren’t together.  He is really smart and has a terrific sense of humor – my two top priorities for friends and partners.  He also makes it really clear how much he loves my Megan.  He is very attentive and affectionate; he does something that I think must be very hard to do, which is to treat her with complete respect but also demand her utter obedience.

At one point I mentioned that I had bought Richard a whip for Father’s Day (what was I thinking?) and I asked if he knew how to use a whip.  He said “No, I don’t.  But that makes it hotter, doesn’t it?”  !!!!  That could have come out of Richard’s mouth!  I was almost too startled by the similarity to laugh.

I can’t remember whether it was that night or the next morning that Megan told us that she hadn’t had an orgasm in a year.  I stared at her with my mouth open, I actually thought she was teasing me at first (she does that a LOT).  When I wrote about my three day orgasm denial, which I thought might kill me, I had almost written about a conversation Megan and I had the year before.  We had agreed that orgasm denial was completely NotHot, and we couldn’t imagine any woman ever agreeing to it.  It was a hard limit for her.

So.  What the heck?  How could my sweet little cumslut friend not have cum for an entire year, and be sitting across from me looking like the cat that ate the canary?  How could she be glowing with happiness and satisfaction after a year of being deprived of orgasms?

Richard’s response was worrying.  He thought this was just awesome.  He was grinning from ear to ear as we listened to her story.  At first, Robert enjoyed making her cum, over and over and over.  Which was sexy and exhausting.  Then he started telling her she could only cum if she did before he did.  Which she managed to do, until he started messing with her, stopping just as she was on the edge and then orgasming quickly himself before she could regroup.  I remember her telling me about this at the time, and how hot and desperate and submissive it made her feel.  THEN he told her that it was making her too focused on her own pleasure and not enough on his, so…no more orgasms for her.  Period.

Megan said “I love it!  This is really perfect for me.  I am getting fucked deliciously all the time, and I’m not worrying about whether or not I will cum, because I won’t.”  She added with a grin “But maybe he’s just brainwashed me into thinking this.”  She was tucked under his arm as she told the story and at this point she looked up at him and he looked at her and there was so much love between them, I’m tearing up right now thinking about it.

Of course we talked about this on and off over the next few days, in between talking about her job and our kids and her and Robert’s future plans and more kinky stuff, like the strip clubs they go to (more on this in a later post; we visited one with them and it was a blast) and their evolving polyamorous relationship, and Second Life and on-line role-play, and on being D/s while dealing with migraines, and on and on (more on all of these later too).

When I talked to Richard about Megan’s orgasm-free existence, he said “The right tools for the right job.”  He said it made perfect sense to him that this was exactly the right thing for Megan and he pointed out that you could see it by the results.  Robert says he’s not a details-oriented Dom, he’s a results-oriented Dom.  Another way that he is like Richard.  (I told Megan they are even boring in the same way; they both like Civil War history. *yawn* I got a swat for saying that and Megan got bitten hard when she told Robert I said that.  I said “You didn’t tell him I said it, did you??” And she said, “Yes, and it was worth it!”)

This post is getting way too long, so I will write more later.  I just want to add that, in case it’s not obvious, Robert made this decision carefully and thoughtfully and they are both very happy with it.  Robert says the next step is to make her FAKE orgasms when he is fucking her.  Who could even think of anything that evil?  Well, besides Richard I mean.

I woke up early, and Amy snuggled in close under the duvet; the morning sharp and cold.  She slipped both hands around my cock, murmured something, and drifted back to sleep.

We lay like this for a half hour, maybe an hour.  I enjoyed the feeling of my erection between her cool palms, and did not sleep.

I planned to cum in her.  No hurry, plenty of time.

I flipped her off me onto her side, facing away from me.  I placed one hand between her shoulder blades, and pushed, and with the other reached between her thighs to seize her pussy, and pulled her hips toward me.  A moment’s effort had her bent double, vulnerable.  I opened her ass checks, and reached in to divide her pussy lips, just enough to wedge my cock’s head at her opening.

Then I started to thrust.

I won’t call it pain, but I felt discomfort.  The guys will know what I’m talking about, that delicious twinge as  you batter at her unprepared cunt, your cock buckling ever so slightly in the middle with each thrust, a quick radiation of pain.  It passes as you keep thrusting between her still awakening labia, and you force your way into her pussy with brute strength.

She isn’t very moist, not yet.  Barely even protesting, as she still struggles with sleep.  But a steady rhythmn will loosen her, and moisten her thoroughly.

I usualy love playing with her body, making her squirm, fucking her.

But I’m not interested in fucking Amy.  Not this time.

I just want to cum.

I hold her hips and fuck her, thrusting.  I know her tits are bouncing with each thrust, and I ignore them briefly, a luxurious decadence to neglect such fine tits.

I ignore them because Amy isn’t going to cum.  I don’t want her too.  If I don’t play with her nipples, she doesn’t cum.

For a moment, I do amuse myself by grabbing one breast, feeling the delicious softness in my hand, with the ever present hardness of her nipple against my palm.  I become distracted by the thought of leaving her frustrated, and slip my hand down to tease her clit, but I abandon that idea after a few thrusts.

Truly, this was a distraction.  I didn’t give a fuck if she was frustrated or not.  I wanted to cum in her.

I fucked her swiftly, forcing her shoulders away from me.  At one point I covered her mouth, or so Amy told me after.

I ignored her perfect tits, shivering neglected as I held her hips again, driving deep.

A perfect sensation, a sharp cascade at the very point of me,  and I shuddered cum into her.