Pain Control - California

July 18th, 2002 - Afternoon, Our House

My damn leg is still broken, mending, still in a cast. My pain medicine has kicked in, I know because the room seems far away, and that's all good but... my leg still throbs, it still hurts.

My husband Greg makes me sit on the couch, leg propped up on a pillow on the coffee table, so he can extend to me his wonderful method of pain control.

My man has superb oral skills... he is, talented. So, I just get to lie back--on the couch--mummy leg on the coffee table, and Greg is kneeling in between my legs in front of the couch. He takes my hips, pulls me forward, just a little bit and I am so glad I am wearing sweats.

The sweats slip down and I receive the slowest, deepest, most decadent blow job with the added bonus of talented fingers that was ever given. And I cum eyeball popping hard and there's no throb in my leg, no pain, just this blissful ocean I'm floating on.

My guy has his arms wrapped around my waist. I'm kissing his neck, his lips, and I can taste myself...how I love him and this circle of rainforest we're in, wet and warm, ferns uncurled into each other. My throb is in a different place now; deeper inside of me than anatomy should allow.

I had just came, black and white spots dancing in front of my eyes, my guy has his arms wrapped around my stomach, and I'm kissing his head, which is shaved and sweaty from working so nicely and hard on the most magnificent blow job a boy ever did get.

Greg tastes dark and crisp, like some sort of fresh winter snow on a pine bough that you just grabbed a handful of and ate. I can't talk, all I can do is hold onto him while he's holding onto me. My heart is beating loud, partly because of the orgasm combined with the pain meds and just the stress of the day.

We start kissing. I taste myself and that's very erotic to have his tongue curled around mine, and our tongues, our mouths are hot, and that inside mouth smell is wet and dark, and bitter and sweet, and it's us mixed together. Even though I'm doped to the gills, and just had one of the most wonderful, comfortable, agonizing orgasms, I'm already starting to get hard again, because Greg kisses like he lives life as if life is ending.

This next part is fun, and just another thing to put in the 'why do I love my husband' category. Because I'm a big guy 6' 1', I'm a little skinny right now sitting at 163, we're kissing, and suddenly I'm lifted, my bare ass leaving that wonderful leather couch and Greg has pulled me up, arms wrapped around my middle, he's pulled me to him, and we never break the kiss. What makes my head float away and my balls almost pop, is that my feet aren't touching the ground, and he can hold me up like that; my arms around his neck, his around my waist and we're kissing to beat the devil.

Greg must have eyes in the back of his head, because we start the slow kiss, holding shuffle to our bedroom.

Now, if I didn't have this cast on my leg, we would have just ended up on the bar in the kitchen, or the wall that separates the kitchen and the living room, or the hall, or the floor or well just about anywhere, because I had fully recovered from my earlier pain treatment, and I was fever for him. I could feel all of the muscles working in his shoulders and his neck his arms squeezing me to him and his hard cock trying to burrow through the bone in my hip, and mine making a similar impression in his stomach. This is Greg.

When we're like this it's only the two of us, nobody before has ever existed and they never will. He kisses, he holds, he sucks everything else into oblivion, and it's just me and him standing. My feet aren't touching the floor and he can hold me up for hours like this. I kissed, licked, and bit the wonderful snake/bird tattoo on his shoulders, and we are still walking backwards.

We are in the entry to the bedroom and I use that opportunity to lift myself up even higher by bracing my hands on the door frame. Greg and I have danced so long together like this that he knows instinctively what to do, what I want, and he gives me this little heave, it seems so easy for him. Sometimes I forget how strong he is. And instead of his arms around my middle, his hands and arms are holding me up and to him under my ass, which means I can angle my head more, our kisses can go deeper, and Greg can continue what he was doing with his talented fingers when I was on the couch.

We're dancing this wild, soft, slow, inside/outside dance. Our mouths are connected and he's nibbling on my tongue, lavishing it. I'm gripping his head, massaging his smooth scalp, our hearts are close enough that they can feel the other beating, and I'm in the air, and being danced with inside and outside, because he is inside and outside of me, his large middle finger dancing inside of my ass, and we shuffle back.

Usually we would hit the bed like two people fighting or boxing, tumbling and wrestling, amazing rough and sweet, but even though I'm beyond all reason right now, and wouldn't care if you hit my broke leg with a hammer as long as we can keep doing what we're doing right now Greg is aware all to conscious of it, my broken leg and my pain.

I am practically a feather I am set down on the bed so lightly. Greg takes the opportunity of our separated bodies to take off his clothes. He stands in front of the bed, is eyes darker than normal. He doesn't tan, but he's got a that German glow, and in this moment he's reddish because he's flushed, and his muscles have been working hard to hold me up so they twitch when he's taking off his clothes. There's a black tattoo that goes over his shoulders like a cape, which defines just how wonderful strong shoulder muscles can look. He doesn't have a six pack that pops out. Only when he's moving and using those muscles, the flex and contraction bring them out, and suddenly I have the muscle memory of the strength in those abs. I love the way his pecs are always defined and cut even in repose.

Greg's a big guy, just built big, his waist doesn't narrow all that much, because he's linebacker built. Just on the inside of his hips that muscle line is dug in deep, that V on his torso like some sculptor went crazy mad with the knife there and decided to give a lot of contrast in line, those lines, his V ends at his cock, which is nodding at me, uncut, dark, and mine.

Now we're both naked. He covers me and where I was cold, my sweat chilling on my skin and I'm hot again... way to warm, almost feverish because we've begun dancing again... outside and inside of me; of us dancing fingers, tongues, cocks, and hearts. We don't roll and wrestle like normal because the cast is heavy and that would hurt; I just lay back and accept the fact that I am one to be treated tonight.

I feel his fingers withdraw, warmth leaving and the new cooler different warmth entering and I give him, a 'when do you grab that?' look and he just growls that deep throat purr thing that he does and bites my lip to take that look off of my face, and it's on, because his fingers are out and his hands are under the small of my back and I'm lifted up.

I want to pause here to imprint this moment, so I can carry it like a hard, wet, hot suitcase in my stomach the rest of the day, this inside smile that I only have the privilege to feel. My man touches me like this, he leaves impressions, his muscles write signatures on mine, and I'm aching for it, aching for him.

I'm lifted up, we shift and the side of my neck is suck/bitten when he enters me. There's no pause, no stop, we pass go, and the weight of the cast of my leg is forgotten when he's inside.

One hand leaves my ass and finds one of my nipple rings. He tugs on it while he's fucking, and we're kissing while we're dancing like this. My cock is getting more than enough stimulation from the dip down and rise up of the strong muscles in his stomach, and we reach the point where Greg really shines. He finds that part of me I never knew was there. That part that's so hidden it's this lost ancient city and he's found it. And he wants all the gold, so he digs through the ruins for it and digs hard and desperate like he needs that gold to live, this is how he's fucking me.

He's been doing the lost city pillage thing, thrusting hard and deep, hitting that spot inside of me and every time he hits it, it's like a concussion grenade went off behind my eyes. And each time my cock jumps it feels like I'm going to cum.

There's this approaching thunderstorm in our chests, distant thunder that booms, because he's stirred up a tornado while he's fucking me. This disturbance in the atmosphere he's made in me, because the soles of my feet are burning. My balls are tight and hard, and he's mumbling some Germanic ode to Matt in my ear. And this storm, the wind it blows me down and up, and I can feel the lightening close by.

My skin is goose bumps, my muscles twitch and jump, and with each thrust the storm grows closer and my cock is weeping like a jilted bride. Our bellies are slick with sweat and precum and the rain is just waiting to burst out of the swirling storm. Clouds, thunder lightening, and thrusts and to the deep. Fuck he knows what to do to me. He knows how to swallow me up and push me over edge at the same time. He deep throat purrs my name into my ear, 'Matthew' and at the same time it's this deafening thunder boom because it's so close, the bolt of lightening frying me and he thrusts deep fast three times says my name again, and I'm undone.

I cum and I cum, and I cum. All the while the rain falls and I am whipped into vertical sheets by the wind, he still pumps, he still goes deep, because he likes to feel my muscles contract around his cock, me cumming, that's what brings him over the edge.

I say something silly and stupid, and sweet, I don't even remember what it was, probably just 'Baby', and his deep throat purr stops, it's the silence of the eye of the tornado, and he shoots inside of me. I'm being lifted up into the tornado again, and I'm kissing, hugging, squeezing, and petting him, loving him, getting all I can from him.

As the sun peeks out, and the sheets are wet and my man stops to breathe for the first time, I look into his eyes. They are misty and open wide for me. So I stroke his cheek. He takes my hand and kisses my palm, and he thrusts smaller softer, all the while sucking, biting on my palm as he finishes, and finishes me.