Post-orgasmic slumber? All I know it that it's dangerous to leave a rear end that nice out from under the covers around me. He wouldn't be sleeping for long.
I want to share with you a letter I received some time ago. This person and I had exchanged a fair number of emails about pegging. She had a lot of questions...
I've been reading your articles and talking in heavy depth with my husband about all this.
I wanted to say thank you for everything. Last night I made love to my husband and...it didn't feel anything like I thought it would. It was pretty intense and even to him, it didn't feel like the pegging he thought it could be, it was more.
Thank you Ruby. I know we'll be doing this a GREAT deal more often if not daily.
This is why I do all this; the website, the articles, the quest for knowledge about pegging, the sharing. This is exactly why.
I take great delight in knowing that couples are finding pleasure with each other, experiencing the thrill of trying something new and learning more about each other's point of view sexually. To think that the things I wrote here helped them have the courage to give pegging a try - that really does warm my heart. Mission accomplished.
Last night I was really really tired. Crawling underneath the covers felt so good. My tiredness didn't dissuade me from play, though. In my mind I went back to the palace where I am the Queen and all of the men are at my command (I told you this particular fantasy was versatile).
There was a St Andrew's Cross; just another piece of furniture in her sumptuous chambers. The men would compete for her attention, wanting so badly to be the next one on the cross. The Queen could be a little cruel, they all knew this. But she was so very sensual. She knew that a simple touch could be so much more when drawn out with time and intention. Whether it was the stroke of the crop or the touch of her lips, every caress was focused and overflowing with passion. The men wore any marks from the Queen proudly and usually slept for days after visiting her chambers. Paul felt his heart beat quickly when the Queen chose him - his first time! She tied him to the cross as he was hoping she would. He'd heard the stories.
Then she worked over his ass cheeks with a riding crop until they burned. The Queen seemed to know when he was ready to ask for mercy and she would stop to press her naked body up against his, kiss him unbearably gently and stroke his hard, dripping cock. Then the crop would again whistle through the air for a time. Then back to the caresses. She finally released him when at last there were small bruises on his hot red cheeks. Paul was sweating, breathing hard and longing for release.
She blindfolded him and pushed him onto the bed. Before he knew it he was on his stomach and her fingers were probing him deeply. He felt something pushing into him and tried to relax. This was talked about amongst the men, too. No-one had ever seen the object the Queen used to violate them. None of them cared. All they could talk about was how amazing it felt and Paul found he agreed with them. Whatever was sliding in and out of him controlled him, made him a slave to that sensation. He arched his back up like a cat in heat. More...he just wanted more. it was still early. Paul was quite sure he'd get it before the night was through.