Rough Sex

After an altogether too long hiatus, Mr. S has returned. We still have not discussed his December abandonment, and at this point I am reluctant to bring it up at all... I am falling into the stereotypically female "forgive but not forget" position. While it doesn't make me happy, fighting with him about it would make me less happy. I think.

Besides, the sex is worth it. I got to see him Thursday night after an OMG-long-and-miserable day at work. Despite my being an unshowered and unshaven stresspot, he fucked my brains out in the most amazing way.

I've had passionate sex. And assertive sex. But this was Rough Sex in the most delighfully satisfying way. A clothes ripped off, cock shoved in mouth, fistful of hair kind of way. I am still sore from the things he did to my tender bits. *swoon*

The delicious thing about Mr. S's brand of rough sex is that it isn't about degradation. It's not a punishment and it's not about status. It's a full-on expression of masculine desire, aided and abetted by his size and strength. I am not a Rag Doll woman, but he pushed me around with no no visible effort. It was absolutely intoxicating.

Sometimes, it's like he reads my mind.