Pwned

What's a girl to do when her kids have commandeered BOTH copies of the new Harry Potter book? I think we all know the answer to that one.

It's chilly for July and when we climbed into bed, my arms were covered in goosebumps. I had a hunch things might warm up quickly though. Especially with a new battery in the pocket rocket.

It's funny how much difference a new battery can make.

Peter's mouth was hot on me while I buzzed, and I found story fragments and little self-made movie vignettes flashing through my head as my clit swelled to bursting. I came very close to orgasm several times, but with that knowledge that I sometimes get that it's going to be too intense -- painful even, if I don't back off and change things up a little. Pater's wandering hand found my nipples, stroking them lightly, making them stand out rock hard and tingly until I found just the right balance and that amazing wave lifted me up high, higher and higher until I fell over the edge and everything crashed down around me, over me, through me.

It's right at that point that the hair trigger comes into play. I know I've mentioned it before, but I think it's important, so I'm mentioning it again. It's right here that I find things so damn intense that I never used to cross that threshold. But now I know that if I power through, I'll come again in seconds, almost always with a hot gush of fluid. And again. And again.

It's funny how this works, because sometimes each orgasm is distinct, and at other times, it's like one incredibly long orgasm with more intense peaks all along the way.

Eventually, it was Peter's turn. I licked him a bit, sucked him, straddled him, and lowered myself onto his hard cock. Heaven. I had the urge to grab the buzzer again and came instantly. It seemed that every time I moved on him, I was in danger of coming again. I say danger, but it's not like I was trying to avoid having orgasms. And so I did. Again and again. The song in our "cover music" inspired some little hip circles, which Peter found entertaining.

But what was even better was when we swapped spots, and I lay on my back with Peter above me, parting me once again, and lacing his fingers through mine, pinning my hands to the bed above my head. There's something about being overpowered like this -- owned -- that is incredibly titillating. A little hard thrusting and I thought I'd burst. So fucking good.

Maybe it's become Pavlovian (it certainly involves plenty of moisture) but every time Peter withdraws after coming, I come again. Just as the ridge of his cock brushes past my G-spot it starts, and he's learned to slide up over my clit as soon as he's out, prompting more gushing. I certainly wasn't dehydrated. Though I may be now. ^_^

Could someone turn on the fan please?