Sunday, December 21, 2008

She showed me her keister.

Sitting at the bottom of our glasses of ice-cold Lemoncello, fresh raspberries began to crystallize, offering us a sumptuous treat for our tongues when we were finished darting them from across our lips. The twinkling tree stood in the corner, its dancing lights casting my parlour into a rainbow hue of shimmering warmth. We had finished a marvelous meal together, and our kisses were as tender and as searching and as passionate as they have always been when we found ourseves in one another's arms.

Last Christmas, Shayne had come for a wonderfully long visit. For two weeks of joy and decadence, we shared days and nights in loving embraces. I had a marvelous time spoiling her rotten with gifts and goodies from Santa. We were very much in love then, and having her in my home for the holidays left me feeling that everything was glorious and perfect and impenetrable in the world. Our arms entwined our waists as we relaxed and laughed, pulling one another closer on the futon.

After dinner (I love to cook for lovers), we enjoyed treats as we cuddled over The Notorious Bettie Page biopic together. We especially enjoyed the scene when the (obviously) lesbian "photography club enthusiast," huddled among a group of shutter-snapping men, beckoned Bettie to "not forget us other boys" and to "show us your keister." For weeks afterward, the phrase stuck with us. We would later exchange notecards featuring 50s pin-ups and remark with scribbled notes and drawn arrows reading "Whatta keister!" And Shayne has a lovely, round, womanly keister indeed.

Feeling naughty, I broke our kisses with a smirk and slipped a DVD on that I knew my deliciously queer lover would totally enjoy. Shorthaired, tattooed lesbians "Slade" and "Brewski" appeared on the JVC, and my horny, dyky Shayne blinked her eyes in thrilled pleasure.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, riveted.

We cuddled as she started stroking her lovely self. The tombois on screen shared themselves before their camerawoman in that genuine way that no male-controlled, commercial, standardized porn can ever hope to do. I nibbled on Shayne's neck as she watched Brewski undo Slade's studded belt. Shayne leaned against me and opened her legs as Brewski started fucking mohawked Slade with their shared strap-on. Shayne only-slightly-demurely asked me if I would be ok if she jilled herself while we watched Slade turn on all fours, her stout round bottom (very like Shayne's herself) being smacked and held as Slade got fucked hard.

As if I would say no.

I held my baby close as her hand delved into her warm folds, and enjoyed her faint shaking and gasps as she stroked that magnificent clit of hers that I've come to learn so well. It wasn't long before I slipped to the floor with a smile, opening Shanye's legs before me as she giggled and gave me access to her beautiful cunt. (Have I ever mentioned how she loves that word?) Swabbing and teasing her, my tongue darted throughout her thick and friendly seam, the tip of my tongue darting above and around her girldick.

The lesbian scene ending, I returned to the futon, enjoying the taste and aura of Shayne's womanhood at my mouth. She undid my jeans as I sat down, holding my cock in her hands as she kissed me, tasting herself. She lowered her head. She flicked her tongue. She took me into her mouth for a few moments before I eased her to the floor and stood before her.

Another scene came on the screen, and I idly watched the blowjob happening there from the corner of my eye as Shanye busied herself with my cock. I gently held her head and slowly pumped my thickness in her sensual mouth, occasionally tapping the length of my dick against her soft cheek. Her slate eyes looked up to me from either side of my shaft, and then she would wrap a wet fist around my girth, aim my cockhead for her mouth again, and suck me in.

The voices from the back of my head encouraged her to suck me deep, and they demanded from me that I utterly pleasure myself with this wanton wench of mine. I gripped Shayne's head in my hands then, feeling her suckling hollowed cheeks at my fingertips, and started fucking her mouth for true. I relished in the noisy slurping that this elicited from her, and the feel of her warm saliva seething along the length of me and to my swaying balls.

But even this wasn't enough now. Gripping her short hair from the back of her head, I bent down to give her a passionate kiss before leading her by the hair to the edge of the futon. On her knees, facing the backrest, I placed a large throw pillow under her legs before instruucting her to stay still for a moment.

I fetched my toybox. I withdrew my leather slapper and some rope. Pressing the side of her face to the couch's edge, I tied her hands behind her back. I stepped aside to admire the view: my sexy slut on her knees, her weight supported by her head on the edge of the futon, her own round keister high in the air for me: open, available, submitting. I squatted down and parted her asscheeks, enjoying the pretty sight of her pale rosebud in the tree's dancing light. I stood and readied the slapper, taking pleasant aim to her copiously round cheek and bringing the black leather down with a resounding smack.

The parlour echoed with the noise, and I knew the women upstairs would likely be able to hear every stroke as I brought the slapper down to her again and again. I pinched Shayne's nipples, ran my fingers through her hair, scratched her back, spanked her ass, and teased her drenched pussy with warm fingertips. I stroked my perky cock with lube and aimed in for her tenderness. I held on to her shoulders, tilted my hips, and slowly thrust all of me inside her as I squatted behind her delectable ass. I enjoyed the sight of her face turning red as it rested on the futon, her mouth open and crying out. I felt her folds against my sac as they gleefully bounced with my strokes.

After a few moments, I withdrew, took a sip of my drink and munched on its raspberry as I continued to admire Shayne's pretty keister. Her anus was completely in my randy view, and so I casually lubed her there as I chewed on the frozen berry. I gripped my cock and aimed the spongy head to her tightness, one hand at her shoulder as I slowly pushed myself inside her. I teased her with my cockhead, darting the very tip of me in and out for a while, as she cooed and steaded herself. Soon, she felt just the head of me in her ass as I kept myself from going further, just for fun, fucking her with perhaps only two or so inches of me. I enjoyed the tease.

By then, my poor baby's knees had had enough, and so I smiled as I released her from her bonds, stood her up with a kiss, and led her to the bedroom. We shared another passionate night, like so many that we shared during that Christmas visit.

Christmas this year is a little different: things have shifted between us some. Again. But God help me, I do love the pain in the keister, and will be thinking of her fondly over my spiked eggnog.

2 comments:

Rogue said...

I'm missing you, baby. Just sayin.

Rogue said...

But, yeah, you most definitely were a pain in the keister, "twinsie," despite how much I've loved you.