If the spanking and doggy-style sex were intense, the suite of oral-anal-A2M was shattering; I really felt like I was left in pieces, lying there in my first real bondage (of course I'd played around by myself with towels and things, but it's not, obviously, a solo activity) with Charles' come all over my face, and this look in his eyes begging for forgiveness for having wanted to do to me what I'd demanded he do to me. He released my hands, and wiped my face.
I, for my part, was laughing, nearly hysterically. My laughter eventually infected Charles, and we were both helpless with it for a while.
"I. . . kind of know," he choked out, "why we're laughing" (gasp) "but I'm not sure?"
The laughter finally subsided. He lay down next to me on the bed, and I, as I always have and I hope always will, clung to him, and buried my face in his tastefully-hirsute chest (not too much, not too little). (He does have back-hair, unfortunately, but a girl can't have everything.) I kissed it (his chest, that is), for a while, just because I loved him, and I knew it. He waited patiently for an answer. . . .
For more about the "real" me, read the Companion! You'll find the rest of this post (and it's hot, I promise!) there.