Aunt Flow
"The only thing a period stops is a sentence" - A very wise man.
Being in a long distance relationship can be quite challenging - physical longing, travel expenses, recurring temptations, misconstrued communication...That being said, delayed gratification can be extremely rewarding.
I had visited Bella in Abuja about a month before she came to Lagos. Our typical visit frequency was every two weeks but work had gotten in the way. She had a conference in Lagos so she was to stay at mine for a whole week. Given that our usual weekend visits barely lasted 24 hours, we typically wasted no time in ripping each other's clothes off the moment we walked through the door. Between her latex allergies and my insatiable desire to please her, we could go at each other for hours. She understood me well enough to allow me take the reins and do all the work. She would surrender her body completely to me and the soundtrack of her moans, groans and screams would have me exploring her depths until she would beg me to take a break to avoid a heart attack. Many soaked sheets and flipped mattresses later, we would break to have a meal, catch some rest only to go at it again.
This visit coincided with the arrival of "Aunt Flow". Abstaining was just not an option. Not after four whole weeks of fiery pent up sexual tension. Bella was more uncomfortable about the mess it would make than about how she felt and for that I was thankful.
It always started with the kissing. She said there was something about tasting my lips that always got her extremely fired up. I didn't have to do much else to get her panties sopping. Just deep, passionate kisses, holding the back of her neck. I would occasionally veer off to kiss her neck but I always returned to her lips. She hurriedly tried to get me out of my t-shirt and jeans, with no real idea how it would all play out. She always said that if she was naked, it was only fair I had to be as well. As I kissed the back of her neck, while she stood backing me, I whispered into her ears to hold onto the edge of the ironing table while she bent over. She never liked to start with doggy - she preferred to warm up with something that didn't go so deep. I had to be extremely gentle as I slipped into her from behind.
The mix of her wetness and the blood made entering her very easy. "I can't believe you're making me do this. Promise not to look down!", she said as I slid completely into her. She gasped as her eyes closed. "Be gentle", she muttered. It felt like a hot knife slicing through butter. Exploring her depths was effortless and the physical pleasure coupled the psychological thrill of this novel sexual taboo equaled sensory overload. "Faster", she said moments later, as I held onto her hips and went at it with unrestrained ferocity. I looked down for a moment at my throbbing erection and I could see a thin veil of crimson on my glistening manhood. There was blood trickling down her thigh and onto the tiled floor, nothing a little mopping wouldn't take care of. And so harder and harder I went, swimming in her until her screams pushed me over the edge and I was emptying my load into her. But I was far from finished with the pleasure I had just experienced.
I lifted her onto the ironing table which was an actual table simply covered with a towel. Sitting her down and standing between her legs as she faced me, I slid into her again as we kissed passionately. She held onto the back of my neck, and I her waist as we went at each other again. By now, both our bodies were glistening with sweat and any inhibitions she had about the messiness of the situation had been abandoned. The desire in her eyes, the intensity of the expression on her face and the the fuck mes she yelled had us crossing very eagerly into this hitherto unexplored territory.
As she placed her legs on my shoulders, and held onto the wall, she still refused to look down at it. It was a spectacular view indeed and it was the first of many days of very fiery passionate love making. And why not? She confessed about the added benefit of cramp relief. And to think for a second we thought it would ruin the visit. The wise man was right: the only thing a period stops is a sentence.
Being in a long distance relationship can be quite challenging - physical longing, travel expenses, recurring temptations, misconstrued communication...That being said, delayed gratification can be extremely rewarding.
I had visited Bella in Abuja about a month before she came to Lagos. Our typical visit frequency was every two weeks but work had gotten in the way. She had a conference in Lagos so she was to stay at mine for a whole week. Given that our usual weekend visits barely lasted 24 hours, we typically wasted no time in ripping each other's clothes off the moment we walked through the door. Between her latex allergies and my insatiable desire to please her, we could go at each other for hours. She understood me well enough to allow me take the reins and do all the work. She would surrender her body completely to me and the soundtrack of her moans, groans and screams would have me exploring her depths until she would beg me to take a break to avoid a heart attack. Many soaked sheets and flipped mattresses later, we would break to have a meal, catch some rest only to go at it again.This visit coincided with the arrival of "Aunt Flow". Abstaining was just not an option. Not after four whole weeks of fiery pent up sexual tension. Bella was more uncomfortable about the mess it would make than about how she felt and for that I was thankful.
It always started with the kissing. She said there was something about tasting my lips that always got her extremely fired up. I didn't have to do much else to get her panties sopping. Just deep, passionate kisses, holding the back of her neck. I would occasionally veer off to kiss her neck but I always returned to her lips. She hurriedly tried to get me out of my t-shirt and jeans, with no real idea how it would all play out. She always said that if she was naked, it was only fair I had to be as well. As I kissed the back of her neck, while she stood backing me, I whispered into her ears to hold onto the edge of the ironing table while she bent over. She never liked to start with doggy - she preferred to warm up with something that didn't go so deep. I had to be extremely gentle as I slipped into her from behind.
The mix of her wetness and the blood made entering her very easy. "I can't believe you're making me do this. Promise not to look down!", she said as I slid completely into her. She gasped as her eyes closed. "Be gentle", she muttered. It felt like a hot knife slicing through butter. Exploring her depths was effortless and the physical pleasure coupled the psychological thrill of this novel sexual taboo equaled sensory overload. "Faster", she said moments later, as I held onto her hips and went at it with unrestrained ferocity. I looked down for a moment at my throbbing erection and I could see a thin veil of crimson on my glistening manhood. There was blood trickling down her thigh and onto the tiled floor, nothing a little mopping wouldn't take care of. And so harder and harder I went, swimming in her until her screams pushed me over the edge and I was emptying my load into her. But I was far from finished with the pleasure I had just experienced.I lifted her onto the ironing table which was an actual table simply covered with a towel. Sitting her down and standing between her legs as she faced me, I slid into her again as we kissed passionately. She held onto the back of my neck, and I her waist as we went at each other again. By now, both our bodies were glistening with sweat and any inhibitions she had about the messiness of the situation had been abandoned. The desire in her eyes, the intensity of the expression on her face and the the fuck mes she yelled had us crossing very eagerly into this hitherto unexplored territory.
As she placed her legs on my shoulders, and held onto the wall, she still refused to look down at it. It was a spectacular view indeed and it was the first of many days of very fiery passionate love making. And why not? She confessed about the added benefit of cramp relief. And to think for a second we thought it would ruin the visit. The wise man was right: the only thing a period stops is a sentence.
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