I had no idea how he came up with his latest idea. That was just him. He always would come up with ideas. Some were bizarre, some scary, some creepy, and some sexy. God they could be sexy! One thing was for certain, it was never boring. He had a sixth sense on when to try new things, introduce something wild and crazy, when the heat of his latest idea had cooled.
Sometimes I would dismiss them outright and see the little hurt expression on his face.
"How can you know you won't like it unless you try it?" He would always say.
"I know I wouldn't like jumping off a cliff even though I never tried it." I would reply.
He would grow frustrated, sulky even sometimes and when that happened, I would feel guilty and grudgingly give in a "try" the new idea out. Usually it was a disaster. My heart and mind was not into it. I was doing this new twist for him. Instead of going into it with an open mind, I had already approached it as a task to be endured.
He would pretend satisfaction and would try to let me know that he was glad that I had tried, but we both knew that I had failed to even give it a chance. It took me a long time to realize that what he was doing when coming up with all these ideas, was not satisfying himself, but trying to find other ways to bring us closer, to share the intimacy, to enjoy each other. It was a shock to realize that the kinky ideas that played around in his head, I had given up trying to get him to think straight and normal, was a way for him to explore us together. To "play" together.
That was what initially attracted me to him. He was a bit of a goof. Actually that's not true. He just had something that I saw within him that all the other men didn't. He was playful. Sexually playful. I never knew what he would do, but at the end of each encounter with him, my cheeks ached from all the laughing, and my pussy tingled from all the excitement. He liked to play. He looked at things in a way that was different from everyone else. He could be serious, but never for long as his shit-eating grin would take over his face once he came up with another idea on turning something in everyday life on its head.
So although I was always surprised at what ideas flooded out of him, I was never really shocked with the regularity in which they occurred. I tried to welcome it.
Sometimes he would jump from idea to idea so quickly that I had trouble following. Just when I was getting used to his first idea, if I hadn't had a negative emotional gut reaction to it, he would already be onto something else. It was maddening sometimes, but never boring.
He had given up trying to talk to me calmly, face to face about sex play. Finally he learned that I don't process things that way. He introduced those new ideas while we were in the throes of passion. Sometimes I would look back at what I had agreed to try "next time" while I was cumming with his cock deep inside me and get angry with what I perceived as his manipulation of my feelings and vulnerability at that moment.
I couldn't blame myself for agreeing to try his latest idea. Why that might make me a pervert just like him. It was his fault. I didn't want to try anal! He manipulated me when I couldn't say no. Such a sneaky bastard!
Other times when I was adventurous, he would just break into a new idea during our passion and I would go with the flow. A few times I threw him off me and he spent the next hour trying to explain his logic and reasoning. He was a skilled talker, but the problem was I never understood his logic and reasoning. He saw things differently than me. He thought differently than me. His mind worked on a creative level more than mine had, more than anyone I ever knew had. Always working, churning out thousands of ideas all the time. Those were the times when I wished he would be able to shut his damn brain down and just enjoy what we were doing.
It hurts, you know, to have your lover come up with suggestions to make your sex life better. What the hell is wrong with our sex life that you need to spice it up? I could grow tired and defensive. Did he not want me? Did he need these to find me attractive? I felt insecure. He would tell me, show me, gesture to me that he wanted me. I was the only one for him. He showed me in so many ways that I never doubted him for long and would always hop back on his train of adventure and excitement. His train could only hold one passenger. I felt special that he chose me to come along for the ride. Together we were in our own special world, laughing at everyone else as they passed us by, oblivious to the jokes we shared about them.
The successful times, the times his ideas hit me when I was open to them and ready for them, well, they were just brilliant. I would cum like never before and afterwards I marveled at his mind.
He had been teasing me all day. Touching me when no one was looking, or texting me when we were apart. He would whisper into my ear how sexy I was and how hot it was making him. He would push his crotch against my ass and I could feel his lust push back against me. His hot hard cock would strain to break through the fabric fencing between us.
That night he stroked my hair. Softly he led me back to our room and continued stroking me. I was getting hot as he kissed me. Soon we were naked and after our foreplay he was thrusting inside me. He pulled out suddenly and told me to turn over and get on all fours. He often took me doggy style.
"You like that don't you?" he growled.
"Yes," I said.
"Me thrusting in and out of you."
"I have you now, don't I?"
"Yes," I gasped.
"You're mine aren't you!"
"What are you?"
"That's right," he said as he quickened the pace.
"This is so animalistic, isn't it?"
"It's like we're caveman and cavewoman," he growled. "This is how they did it!"
"I'm taking you doggy style, aren't I?"
"Yes!" I shouted.
"You like it? You like it doggy?"
"Yes," I liked him talking and making me feel sexy and dirty. It was so naughty.
He reached around me and took hold of one of my swaying breasts. It was the left one, his favorite one.
"I'm taking you doggy style, just like a dog!"
"Yes!" I panted as his words resonated within me.
He felt a change in my body, I'm sure he did!
"Just like a dog, I'm fucking you, you nasty girl!"
"In fact you are my little dog aren't you!"
"Huh? ... Yes," I panted. I was his little dog as long as he kept hitting that spot deep within me! Oh god I was close!
"I'm fucking you like an animal! You're my little dog!"
"Uh huh!" My muscles were clenching up. Oh god!
"My little dog! You're my little doggy bitch aren't you!"
"Yes! Oh god!" His words were doing it! They were bringing me to orgasm. So nasty! I was being so nasty fucking my man like a dog. Like a bitch in heat!
His pace became rough. I enjoyed it. His strong hands held my waist firmly. Even if I had wanted to, there was no way I could escape from him. He had me. He held me, and he was going to fuck me and do what he wanted to do to me. I could not escape him and his strong hold. Why would I anyway?
"What are you?" He asked. His voice was loud, excited. Good he was as excited as I was. I turned him on!
"I'm your doggy."
"You're my doggy BITCH!"
"I'm your doggy bitch!" I groaned. Shit I was going to come!
"Doggy bitches don't speak, do they!"
"Ohhhhhhh, no?" So close I was getting.
"Doggy bitches bark, don't they?"
"Yes," I panted.
He smacked my ass. I yelped more in shock than pain. Whatever it was, it helped me get closer.
"MY doggy bitch doesn't talk!"
I said the only thing that came to my mind.
I felt his entire body smile and his cock grow impossibly harder.
"Woof woof!" I barked and that brought me over the edge! I came. I came hard.
"Ahhhhh! Woof woof woof wooooooooooof!"
He kept fucking me as my climax continued forever.
"That's right! Cum, my little doggy bitch. Cum for your owner! My bitch in heat. Fucking her doggy. I'm the alpha dog here! I fuck my doggy bitch!"
I kept coming. Oh shit what the hell was that?
"Woof woof woof!"
He grunted and his body changed pace, I felt all his muscles tighten.
"Oh shit! Here it comes doggy! I'm cumming! Oh take it doggy. You bitch! Take my cum like the little doggy bitch in heat!"
And I did. I howled as his hot seed flooded inside me. He collapsed on top me of me, panting. He wiped the hair out of my face.
"Good doggy! Such a good girl!"
"Woof," was all I was able to get out of me. Damn that was good!
We talked afterwards, after I had come back from the toilet. We lay together, touching each other. His latest idea was rationally shocking and humiliating, but emotionally, I was still hot about it. I nuzzled into him and rested my chin on his chest.
"Did you enjoy that, puppy?" he asked as he scratched behind my ear.
I had enjoyed it. Immensely. I made my choice at that moment to play this out until it got cold.
"Woof!" I said and then licked his face, just like a little puppy would.
He smiled and I saw that look on his face; the one where everything in his life had converged into this one perfect moment. This was what he lived for. To explore places with me, the two of us, on our own little adventure.
Over the course of the next few weeks, we floated in and out of these roles. He the caring Master, and I the little puppy. I would text him a single word at times: "WOOF!". He would reply back about how he missed his little puppy and if I was behaving and being a good girl. Of course I replied back with: "WOOF!". Let him figure out what that meant!