Canes and a Rubber Hose

This past week has been rife with anxiety.

Work was stressful. Home was stressful. Life was stressful.

I had an ultrasound Monday morning to see if there is any reason for the post-coital pain I experience when Doc fucks me hard in the missionary position. Late Tuesday I got the results: everything is normal. I'm perfectly healthy. Nothing to worry about and no reason for a follow-up unless the issue is persistent.

The issue is persistent. The only way to keep the issue from recurring is to explore all of the other positions in which Doc and I can fuck. Fun, to be sure. Still, it is frustrating not to have any clear reason for the pain and no way to address it other than avoid the stimulus.

The rest of the week proceeded without incident. Still, I was incredibly anxious when I left work on Friday and headed for Doc's.

I wanted to get to his place and I wanted to fuck.

And everything seemed to be going wrong.

I got stuck at work and left 10 minutes late. Due to road constructions and people who don't know how to drive, I got stuck at the intersection when leaving work and sat behind two cars at a stop sign for 10 minutes. Half-way to Doc's, I pulled off the freeway to buy gas. Half of the lot was torn up and under construction; half the pumps were out of order; the other half of the pumps were occupied.

I drove off without gas and stopped at the next station a mile down the road. I was more than willing to pay $0.02 more per gallon for the convenience of immediate availability.

All gassed up, I headed back onto the highway and hit traffic about 12 miles from Doc's. The speed limit is 70 mph. Cars in the right lane were traveling approximately 57 mph. Cars in the left lane were, for unfathomable reason, traveling at 60 mph. My frustration was high.

The final interchange before reaching Doc's house was a holy cluster fuck of everyone and their mother and a few semis merging onto and off of the freeway. I had to remind myself repeatedly that I was nearly at Doc's and I'd be there soon enough.

When I did arrive at Doc's, he opened the door, greeted me, asked if I needed help. I got everything into the house and put away the few groceries I'd brought with me for some baking and cooking this weekend.

Then, Doc kissed and I kissed him in return. "How hungry are you?" I asked him.

"Not that hungry," he responded and I started dragging him to the bedroom.

"I'll need to take care some things," Doc said, gesturing to dinner which was currently cooking on the stove.

"Oh," I said, slightly deflated. "I suppose we can wait until after dinner," I remarked, not wanting to make too much work for Doc.

After salad and spaghetti with meat sauce, Doc and I headed to the bedroom and fucked.

Doc started slowly teasing me, touching me, stroking me, caressing me. "Please," I begged him.

"Not yet," he said.

I was okay with this. Honestly, I was. But Doc would touch me one place and I knew if he continued for another couple of minutes, I would cum. Then, he would move and caress me somewhere else, building my sexual frustration and I wanted to just beg him to finally, please, just fuck me already; but Doc moved between my legs and began licking, caressing, and sucking on my clit, and I thought I might die as I writhed and moaned with pleasure. I was quite happy to forgo having his cock in me for a little bit if it meant more of this.

Finally, Doc began to fuck me and I came and I came and I came. I wrapped my legs around his waist and clung desperately to him while he continued to fuck me. Absolute perfection.

Afterward, Doc and I watched John Oliver and an episode of Buffy and we started watching Blacklist, which was amazing.

We headed to bed and Doc fucked me again.

Saturday morning, I got up a little after 5:30 and fed the cats. I climbed back into bed, but wasn't having much luck getting back to sleep, so I got up and read for a bit.

I also remembered that I had purchased some dry erase markers for my office desk and left three most boring markers at work and took the three most fun colors to Doc's. The markers have magnets on their caps, so I placed them on Doc's fridge.

Eventually, I went back to bed and slept a bit more. When Doc and I woke up, we fucked again.

When we left bed some time later Doc noticed the markers, he remarked that he'd have to get a tiny whiteboard. "I was thinking I could use them to leave you notes on your bathroom mirror. Things like, 'Would you like try using your belt on me tonight?' But then, I wasn't sure if you'd find that charming or be irritated that you had one more thing to clean in the bathroom."

"We could try that," Doc said. "I noticed you have a couple of other things in the bedroom as well." This is true. Two homemade canes and a rubber hose.

We had  breakfast and Doc got a few necessary things done while I read a bit. We had lunch and then after a bit, I made us tea in travel mugs and we headed out to a local orchard to pick pumpkins and what apples we could find.

When we returned to the house, we got the groceries put away and fucked again. This time, Doc started by inserting my beaded anal plug in my ass and then he began beating my ass, hips and thighs with the rubber hose. Eventually he decided the noise it made was too silly and switched to the canes. All of this was wonderful.

What strikes me is that I enjoy this; it is sexual; but I don't derive distinctly sexual pleasure from the beating. At the same time, the beating definitely gets me wet. Every single time. Unlike when the Professor beat me and I enjoyed it but didn't get wet at all.

Doc did this things where he'd alternate striking and stroking me with a cane. With every stroke and blow I got wetter and wetter. Though I knew that eventually Doc would want to fuck me, I had not expected it as quickly as it happened. Doc was in me and fucking me from behind and it was good. It was so good.

Eventually my legs started to cramp slightly and as I shifted position to relieve the cramp, Doc suggested we move to the bed, which I was more than happy to do. Doc continued to fuck me and then moved me to the missionary position, fucking me while I played with my clit.

Doc stopped. I was confused. "Are you stopping?" I asked, lost and unsure of myself. "No, I'm just giving you more room to touch yourself," he said, shifting us to the end of the bed. He reached for the toy box again, and pulled out a vibrator.

He continued to fuck me, with the butt plug in place, while he used the vibrator on my clit. I came again. Hard. When he was done, he cleaned himself up and washed the vibrator before putting it away. I left the butt plug in place and pulled on my blue jeans.

Doc made dinner and we watched the last episode of season one of Buffy before watching a second episode of The Blacklist.

We were both exhausted and slept through the night. Around 5:30 I woke up and headed to the bathroom, planning to feed the cats when I was done. Doc got to them before me. As he prepared their wet food, I filled their dry food dishes. Doc and I headed back to bed.

At 8:30, I asked Doc if he wanted me to start coffee (Yes, thank you) and Hollandaise sauce.

Doc poached the eggs while I toasted bread and fried ham. Oh, eggs Benedict.

My Hollandaise still needs work. It's too thick and too lemony. Next week I'm going to take it off the heat before adding the  butter and see if that helps in the process. I'm also going to use half a lemon and leave the rest for some other application.

After breakfast, while we were still seated at the table, Doc sighed. It wasn't a "happy, contented, well-fed" sigh (he'd already sighed like that a few times during breakfast) and it wasn't a "frustrated with this blasted machine" sigh (which he'd sighed the day before while upgrading his OS) and it wasn't a "I have so much to do to get ready for the coming week" sigh (which he's sighed in previous weekends). "You're having thoughts," I remarked.

"I was just thinking we should get these breakfast dishes cleaned up and we have enough time to fuck before you have to shower and head to church," Doc said.

I've never moved so fast in all my life, as I moved back from the table, grabbed the plates and forks and bounded into the kitchen.

"Were you thinking 'rinsed and in the disherwasher' cleaned up or 'on the counter waiting to be washed' cleaned up?" I asked.

"Rinsed and in the dishwasher," Doc said. I was a bit miffed because sex was on the menu!

We got the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, I used the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Making love with Doc this morning was beyond satisfying. I felt things I haven't felt before when we've made love or fucked in the past.

I can't describe it, but the way he moved in me and when he came.... Shivers and happy sighs just remembering it.

Then, I showered and headed to church where I read scriptures and chatted about what the adult study group might read next.

After church Doc and I carved our pumpkins into Jack-o-Lanterns, I roasted the pumpkin seeds that Doc had carefully cleaned, and he made lunch. After lunch, we watched a third episode of The Blacklist. Then, I headed home for the week.

Thursday can't come soon enough.