She doesn't remember a whole lot of what came before. There was pleasure, and there was him, and her climax and the noise of his own - but it all seems like a blur, like something out of a high speed camera that sort of flips in front of her eyes before settling back down inside of her head. She expects to feel something when he comes, and doesn't, besides his grip and the fantastic slam of his hips against hers. But shouldn't there be something more besides that?
She aches. Her hips, her arms, her cunt. She aches from taking him and being taking by him and she hurts up in her stomach for some reason as well and she finds that very odd. In a sort of half smokey thought that appears and then disappears. Spent, she is spent, on the bed next to him, eyes closed and her chest rising and falling quickly as she tries to catch her breath even as her body rolls and trembles from what remains of her orgasm. It is such a weird feeling, being cold detached from what made her feel so good and warm before. It's like being kicked out of heaven and left in the cold and the dark.
It is an oddly emotional experience for her and she has no idea why.
Liking coming down from a massive high, feeling something so great and so powerful and then nothing. All those chemical pleasure centers in the brain now running on low, not being able to give her anything that she needs in order to feel right again.
And he touches her face with his hands that can create beauty from nothing and she blinks wetly at him, looking up at him through this mist of wet from under her eyelids. She pushes it away with the backs of her hands while he fixes himself and pulls her back on to his lap where she rest her head on his chest. That's better, mildly better, like being given something to cushion the fall. She looks at him and then down at her lap, wet and pink, a pink outside of the color of her skin, but more like the pink of diluted blood which makes her frown slightly and spread her legs a bit more with a wince.
"I need to go clean up, daddy. I enjoyed playing with you, I liked it a lot."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-07-30 02:53 am (UTC)She aches. Her hips, her arms, her cunt. She aches from taking him and being taking by him and she hurts up in her stomach for some reason as well and she finds that very odd. In a sort of half smokey thought that appears and then disappears. Spent, she is spent, on the bed next to him, eyes closed and her chest rising and falling quickly as she tries to catch her breath even as her body rolls and trembles from what remains of her orgasm. It is such a weird feeling, being cold detached from what made her feel so good and warm before. It's like being kicked out of heaven and left in the cold and the dark.
It is an oddly emotional experience for her and she has no idea why.
Liking coming down from a massive high, feeling something so great and so powerful and then nothing. All those chemical pleasure centers in the brain now running on low, not being able to give her anything that she needs in order to feel right again.
And he touches her face with his hands that can create beauty from nothing and she blinks wetly at him, looking up at him through this mist of wet from under her eyelids. She pushes it away with the backs of her hands while he fixes himself and pulls her back on to his lap where she rest her head on his chest. That's better, mildly better, like being given something to cushion the fall. She looks at him and then down at her lap, wet and pink, a pink outside of the color of her skin, but more like the pink of diluted blood which makes her frown slightly and spread her legs a bit more with a wince.
"I need to go clean up, daddy. I enjoyed playing with you, I liked it a lot."