Yay sex!

I forgot to mention – and want to, for posterity – that the last time I saw The Bunny we had quite a lovely time. Including some fun sex.

During our recent “stuff is feeling not-great so how can we fix it” talk, he’d mentioned that he missed being bitten and would also like me to objectify him more – particularly reducing him to just a penis (after the visit I was like “So hey, if I act like as though your dick is the most important thing about you, won’t that maybe psych you out and give you erectile problems again?” he was like “No, why would it?” *Facepalm*.) Another part of that “how do we fix it” talk comprised me pointing out that he never invited me to sleep over anymore and I missed that a little – it felt as though he didn’t like me as much as he used to.

And so he invited me to stay the night on (Canadian) Thanksgiving. When I was on my way over he texted that he was feeling kind of headachey (code for “not in the mood for sex,” I’m guessing) so we spent the evening snuggling and watching movies – and eating the delicious dinner he’d prepared. The next morning we got to snuggling under the blankets which turned to making out which turned to me putting thirty-odd clothespins on his penis and scrotum.

As before, The Bunny remained hard and oozing the entire time I tortured his junk (he dismissed this as a “fear-boner” but he was totally just being a brat. Something about CBT does turn him on).

While the clothespins were still on, I started biting his chest. He winced and asked me to stop. I told him I wanted to hear him say “please.” He gave me a defiant look that he’s only ever given me when trying deliberately to provoke me. It worked – immediately I felt my ears prick up, lionlike; I felt my canine teeth begin to elongate. Metaphorically speaking.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be,” I said, grinning pointily. I started biting a little trail down The Bunny’s chest and stomach. He squirmed and protested and I told him again to say “please.”

“No!” he said, in almost a petulant-little-kid voice.

I fastened my teeth around a hunk of his inner thigh and slowly began to bear down. The Bunny kept on protesting. “Say it,” I said, awkwardly because I was still biting him.

Then The Bunny said, in a more normal tone, “I’m asking you to stop.”

That confused me. He’d so clearly been egging me on – following our familiar pattern of pretending to be stoic so I could “break” him – but now suddenly he was sounding serious. And if he’d said “red” or even “no, seriously, stop” I would have stopped. As it was, though, I was torn. He hadn’t said the safeword, and he hadn’t said “please” (which also would have stopped the action immediately). He’s redded out and said “please” to me before, so I know he has no problem with either thing. Was he testing/goading me, or just too scatterbrained to say the right words?

I maintained my bite but stopped bearing down. “This is becoming an ethical quandary” I lisped around that chewy, dense, salty hunk of Bunny flesh.

“Yeah, it is,” The Bunny said. His tone was inscrutable and I still didn’t know what to make of it.

“You know if you say ‘please’ I’ll stop,” I said, finally. Still with my teeth in his thigh.

“Please,” The Bunny said, and I immediately let go, came up and kissed him. He didn’t seem upset at all, and things quickly segued into me taking the clothespins off him, putting stockings on me, and teasing him with my feet while he jerked off. I will, however, ask him sometime soon what was going on there with the biting – if he was really needing me to stop or what.

The Bunny came with my stockinged foot in his mouth muffling his moans. Curiously, though he said he did orgasm, almost nothing came out. Which may have contributed to his shorter-than-usual refractory period.

I took off the stockings and we snuggled for a short while, and then he started jerking off again. “You think you’ve got another one in the chamber?” I asked, surprised and impressed.

“Probably,” The Bunny replied.

“Oooh, maybe I can take a ride after all.” I’d been torn, earlier, between fucking The Bunny and doing the stocking-teasing thing. I enjoy both of those activities. Now it seemed I would get to do them both. Hurrah!

“You would never be so mean as to gag me with those stockings, would you?” The Bunny Br’er Rabbited.

“Oh, that would just be too cruel,” I said, but obligingly took one and stuffed it into his mouth. I’m glad he reminded me, actually, because it’s an idea I’ve always found hot but never got around to doing – and apparently that day I was kinda slow on the uptake.

So I put a condom on The Bunny and proceeded to ride – not so much for my own physical pleasure as to cleanse my palate of The Bunny’s recent sexual dysfunction. I just really, really needed to restore my faith in The Bunny’s functionality by getting the shit nailed out of me. PIV had been so fraught with peril and false starts lately.

And nail me he did. No issues at all. Thank god.

I started off doing the thrusting, but quickly got tired – and also wanted to feel the enormous strength The Bunny has running through the core of his body (so fucking hot!) – so I told him to push up at me, instead, and I just kinda suspended myself over him and let him do the work. He’s like a goddamned piston in that position. It is seriously amazing. I’d be sore after fifteen seconds if I had to move that way, but he seems like he can jackhammer upward like that indefinitely.

And then I remembered how we both missed me acting dominant/taking what I wanted/generally objectifying him. So I clamped my hand over his already stocking-stuffed mouth, bent down to his ear, and started free-associating. “What a lovely little fuck toy you are.” “I love the way you fuck me. Too bad you’re not good for anything else.” “Pretty boys are so much more fun when they don’t talk.” And every time I said one of these mildly disparaging things, The Bunny went insane with gasping and moaning. It seems that pretending his entire value is in his cock is a huge button for him.- I think the thing about me liking it best when he doesn’t talk actually threw him over the edge and made him come. That is fascinating and I’m totally gonna explore it more. Lord knows I’ve sexualized The Bunny’s appearance before, and also complimented his penis, but acting like his dick is all that matters always seemed too mean (and also untrue!) so I carefully avoided going there. I kinda figured if I got all dick-centred like that, The Bunny would be hurt/offended. But he…wasn’t. 😀

Just about the second The Bunny came, I dismounted and was like “HITACHI NAO PLZ” because he’d really gotten me going. As is increasingly par for the course with him, I had a hard time orgasming and when I did it was somewhat sub par. It’s gonna take a while for my mental block(s) with him to dissipate, I guess. But he seems to have gotten his end squared away, and if he’s having reliable erections again and seeming attracted to me and all that, it can only help my end.

We texted a bit today about that whole “vaginal orgasms” conversation, btw. Long story short: I forgive him. He has a lot of weird variations on orgasms, himself – rivers of semen flowing out but not much of an “orgasm” sensation, orgasm sensation but little to no ejaculation, a storm of little pulsations that are intense but that he would not call an orgasm per se – and he thought maybe I was having some kind of different/halfway/WTF-gasms, maybe, from penetration sometimes. Because actually, sometimes when he comes during PIV it turns me on so much that I shudder and get goosebumps. I don’t shudder or get goosebumpy like that during my actual orgasms, but it’s not unreasonable to postulate that something was maybe happening with those goosebumps – some different kind of climax. I told The Bunny that if I ever come by an unusual means it would be surprising so I’d definitely tell him, and also if he’s ever in doubt he could just ask instead of assuming. He understands and we’re all good now.

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