We have talked a lot following my post Hairy Pussy and Prioritising Intimacy. So earlier when I asked what he planned for this afternoon, I was really hoping his answer wasn’t going to be washing. It wasn’t. I plan to fuck you stupid, was his reply.
When we had eaten lunch Mr H instructed me to get naked and I obliged. He put my play/sleep collar on and told me to turn around. He pulled me to him and kissed me, roughly, hard, holding my face and eventually grasping both nipples in his fingers and squeezing until I cried out.
Get on the bed.
“Do you remember your safewords?” He asked.
“You must tell me if you get uncomfortable at any point,” he said very firmly, “do you understand?”
And then, suddenly, violently, he put his hand round my throat. His face right over mine, his expression furious.
“Don’t you ever doubt how much I love you again!”
He growled the words, forcefully, angrily. So angry I was left in no doubt that he was very serious, and that he was hurt that I could doubt it. He kissed me again and again, before moving to the play he had planned, but I could have cried. It was exactly what I needed from him.