My Lover and My Husband

I can’t live without either

“Fuck me! Fuck me harder!”

My lover thrusts into me vigorously, pounding into me with a viciousness my sweet husband never shows.

As I beg him for more, he slows down and puts a hand on my neck. To let me know he’s there, that he’s in control.

He’ll make me come if he wants to. My opinion is irrelevant.

I’m annoyed that he’s so good at it. I get to come when he says, and only then, yet it’s been a few hours since we’ve started tonight. I don’t know how much longer I can stay on the edge.

His meat fills me like none of my other lovers, touches me in ways that I never feel, splits me wider than any before.

I’d try and fight back, but I can’t resist him. Besides, his belt is keeping my arms restrained above my head.

He pulls out and adjusts to move over to my head on his knees, his cock still slathered in my juices as he slaps it against my mouth. I know what’s expected, taking him and sucking him as if I were trying to take his soul through his cock.

He lets me know when to stop with another vicious pinch of one of my nipples, giving me a few more smacks on the face with his cock before returning his attention to my breasts.

I need to come so bad, so I rub my legs together, hoping for some friction to get me there. A rough hand spreads my legs wide, preventing me from achieving release.

Damn him.

He shoves his tongue into my mouth, not lovingly, just another claim on me, one that makes me melt further into his dominance.

When he re-enters me, I gasp in pleasure. He continues to fuck me, push me to the edge, but never giving me the permission I need.

Finally, as he pushes deep into me, he says it, those magic words that give me the permission I seek.

I release with the built-up fury of his hours of edging, and of the month since I’d last seen him. My loving, doting husband makes love.

My lover fucks me, and fucks me like no other.

I cry out as a violent orgasm takes over, causing me to thrash under him, a deep, primal explosion released from my body.

And now the game changes.

I feel his fingers toying with my clit, rubbing me even as he continues to thrust.

I’m quickly at the edge once again, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t give me permission. He only continues to rub and fuck me.

So I come again.

And again.

He finally unloads in me, his second time tonight after I’d swallowed his first, but he continues to torture me with his fingers.

Now he’s forcing them out of me, cruelly, almost painfully, letting me know just how in control he is. I’m not coming for my pleasure, I’m coming for his.

It only makes me come harder.

I’m in a daze when he pulls out again, a barely coherent mess, begging him for mercy.

He only responds with a cruel chuckle.

I feel him adjust the belt, flipping me onto my stomach. I whimper as he reattaches the belt to the headboard. My body knows what’s next.

He settles in behind me and slowly pushes into his final place to claim me for the weekend. I relax as he taught me, feeling him fill me up.

He’s already come twice, so he lasts an hour, plunging in and out of me, somehow choking a few more releases out of me, usually when he pulls my hair.

Once again his cock throbs in me, finally spent. I can only hope so as I collapse into the bed, although I know he can keep going all night. All weekend. He gives my ass a cruel smack as he leaves the bed.

Soon after, a feel a weight come in behind me on the bed. They kiss me, soothe me, release my restraints.

My husband.

Something overcomes me as he settles in and tells me he loves me.

A new type of need, desperate for my husband.

I turn over and push him into the bed, finding his cock already firm as I get on top of him.

I need him to come. I don’t care if I do, I just need him to fill me when he’s like this.

I love seeing how helpless he is under me, how in awe of my sexual power he is in these moments. He rarely visits when my lover is here, not like this.

I managed to get him to finish, even as I find my own little end, a beautiful finish for us both.

Still, I know my lover will be back in the morning.

I only see him once a month, my lover. He tracks my cycle, his arrival timed when I’m ovulating and most desperate to be filled by him.

The rest of the time, I’m with my husband. Loving, gentle, caring.

What I love most is how they’re both the same man.