Sex Stoned

In the beginning I worried that Mr Right and I wouldn’t be a good match in the sack.  We had chemistry and really enjoyed one another’s company, but historically I’d needed some very rough handling to be satisfied in bed and Mr Right wasn’t the sadistic type.  So I figured we’d canoodle for a while until we got bored with one another. In the meantime I would enjoy the heck out of tying up this hot young fellow. It would be a sweet but brief adventure…

Fast forward a couple months to a weekend fairly recently: Mr Right and I (still happily in a canoodleship)  are wandering through Cathedral Park.  He’s taking pictures and I’m, well, hugging a bush.  A literal bush. I’m also petting the large white fluffly flower poofs that cover it because this is the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. 

Mr Right eventually stops shooting bees and flowers and notices his lady friend elbow deep in a tree and comes to investigate.  “This is the best flower! Have you seen this? They all look like animal heads!  How have I never noticed this flower before?  I’m going to cuddle it again.  Stop judging me.”


No one can blame him for capturing this moment with his camera.  “This is going to be great black mail material.”

“Shush you, you did this to me!  Stop being smug you brain chemical altering beast.”

He just smirks at me, amused and enjoying the show.  As he should.  The only drugs I’m on in this moment are the ones we’d created in bed earlier that afternoon.  Using only the powers of his impressive digital dexterity, oxytocin, intimacy and--okay there was a little spanking in there too--he had more than satisfied me in the sack.  He had gone so far as to briefly break my brain, flooding it with so many orgasmic happy chemicals I’d never been more high in my life.

My early worries had been for nothing, it had just taken us a bit to figure each other out and a couple of really sexy talks to find out what the other needed to get off.  Now we inhabit this glorious and dangerous state of sexual exploration in which very little is out of bounds. But there’s a lot of talking involved.  People who don’t think communication is sexy are missing out!  Because heavy duty communicating is what got me so well fucked I’d become obsessed with embracing flora.

It started with, “What one thing (sexual or otherwise) do you want for your birthday?”

He had already agreed to hang out with my friends on the actual day and was whisking me away to Seattle for a lovey dovey adventure, and I was allowed to ask for more?  Who is this person that actually seems to like me and can talk about feelings and desires? Whatever was going on I liked it!

“Well no surprise, I’d enjoy getting tied up and you know a spanking is traditional.”

“Hmm I’ll see what I can do.”

Problem was we were too tipsy on my actual birthday for more than fumbling silly sex (though he did manage to restrain me to the bed with Velcro cuffs and give me a good tease regardless) and the room we stayed in Seattle was too echoey for kinky shenanigans with our hosts a thin floor away.  So by the time our schedules lined up a week later we were both a little (read: a lot) pent up. 

We fell into bed minutes after getting home from a hike, sweaty bodies made sweatier with lust.  “Do you want your birthday present?”  He asks from behind me.

“Um, yes!”

He strips me and bends me over the bed, being more aggressive than usual.  And my blood goes hot with anticipation.  It’s been a while since I’ve given up control but so my everything is thrilled to be given this sexy break from reality.  But it’s not enough to have me bent over his mattress, Mr Right shoves me down prone, ass in the air so I’m exposed to him and my hands splayed in front of me.  These he gathers together and uses one of his hands to pin them down.  My breathing quickens with excitement.  His other hand makes contact with my ass.  The smack of skin on skin loud in the quiet room.  I gasp, he isn’t fooling around.

I turn my head as much as I can given the position to look at him.  His eyes are different, somehow harder, but he gives me an aw shucks shrug as if to say “yeah I’m doing this all the way.”  Mr Right shoves my grinning face back into the bed before going back to the doling out of my belated spanking, a beating that has even a hardcore masochist like myself squirming at times.

When he finishes, he curls up beside me, holding me.  It isn’t long before I catch my breath and crawl a top him to take him in my mouth, hungry for the taste of him, to have him as close as possible.  I lap at him deeply, enjoying his sighs of pleasure as my tongue dances along his cock.

Wordlessly he grabs for a condom and he’s inside me, the weight of him engulfing me so that I’m gasping at his first thrust, biting at his shoulder.  Every nerve ending is on edge after the spanking, that unexpected treat, and he fits so well that the pleasure is abundant.  More so when he slips a hand between our bodies to play at my clit in time to his thrusts.  I’m moaning and grasping at his back and ass like a crazed person, overtaken by lust and seemingly endless orgasms. 

For the second time that afternoon when we make eye contact I widen my eyes in surprise at him.  This only seems to encourage him because instead of stopping or slowing his ministrations when I’ve come so many times that all I can do is giggle, he continues.  Words vaguely related to “no, oh please, sheesh”  come out of my mouth but I don’t mean them and even if I did he’s taken ownership of my body at this point.  So I’m powerless to do anything other than to enjoy his touch, the joy of him inside me.  My pleasure becoming his and vice versa.  Soon we’re both coming and collapsing in a sweaty laughing pile.

One more orgasm, a kazoo briefly confused for lube, and a tiny nap later we’re falling out of bed for substance, water, and that silly walk through the park as an excuse to enjoy the sunshine. High on my own brain I watch Mr Right kneel to commune with flowers and trees, capturing them with the lens of his camera with the same attention to detail with which he’d earlier fucked me silly and I smile, feeling pretty damn fortunate.   So I go cuddle a bush to celebrate.