yesterday evening, i became suddenly and inexplicably horny while we were at work. actually, now that i think about it, it was probably the dark beer i was cajoled into drinking, the kind that gets me drunk without fail. considering that last night i polished it off on an empty stomach, the effects must have been amplified. "effects" meaning the pressing urge to pounce on my girlfriend.
of course, the other effects were fatigue and sickness, so in the end i just rested my head in the back room and tried not to puke. there were at least 2 more hours of work to kill, after all.* with so much down time, i also contemplated the best way to get her to fuck me. my alcohol-addled brain didn't get much further than "beg," but that's a pretty good start, right?
alas, this story concludes without any sex. by the time we got home, both of us were practically dead on our feet. i did tell her something like, "wow, i was so horny earlier, just because of the magnitude of my gratitude for you and our love." after that, i vaguely remember being slapped in the ass with Twelve's shirt— purportedly because she "loves the sound it makes" (in reference to both the shirt and me). she also tried to bite my tits, which hurts, so she nibbled on my waist instead. then we fell into bed and were unconscious within minutes. incredible.
we fucked. i mean that in the truest sense of the word: she grabbed me in the stairwell on the way up to our flat, and less than five minutes later, she was pounding me into our bed. i quite literally prostrated myself to her and begged her to go at me from behind. (in Twelve's words, i was "at her disposal" and "waiting to be ravaged.") considering yesterday's build-up— plus several nights in a row where she only teased me a little— such a brazen display was inevitable.
even while we were still out, i loitered in our workplace's only blindspot from outside passersby and waited for her to feel me up. as always, my darling defied expectation. though she never grabbed my breasts, as i was hoping, when i came closer to examine something unrelated, she glibly reached under my dress. i am too embarrassed to elaborate on the noise made in my surprise.
all in all, i'm very satisfied: both with our brief semi-public escapades as well as the thorough fucking she gave me as reward for being so patient. i am particularly pleased with the praise Twelve lavished on me for fitting the whole strap inside on one go. after a bit of foreplay warmed me up, it sank right in. it's astonishing to think i spent my whole life spurning penetration, yet now i'm desperate for it.
also noteworthy is the memory of her hands around my waist, holding me in place while she fucked me... ahhh, so good. not gonna lie, i could go for more. after dinner, i'll throw myself at her again.
* as far as i know, drinking on the job is normal in this country, where break time is synonymous with going to a bar or café. what's abnormal is employing a woman as small as i am, one who also happens to be a total lightweight! it's not my fault half a beer knocks me out. that's just the price i pay for being so tiny and cute.
a short list of things i cannot believe:
i jest. it's not really miserable, and i'm actually quite happy that we take our time. there's no need to rush! but i am... very excited. who knows how much longer i'll be able to contain myself— and how many episodes of 'Allo 'Allo it will take to fire up Twelve.
the answers to your burning questions:
please excuse the massive autism ahead, but i finally understand why all those raunchy fanfic bottoms cry about "feeling empty." just the memory of having something inside— and enjoying it for the first time— it's so... wow... but even better is my memory of Twelve's pleased expression as she watched me ride her. i love her so much. i want to make her smile again soon!
although i had a lot of fun, it bears mentioning that strap-ons are incredibly strange and honestly difficult to use. Twelve even exasperatedly remarked, "i think God just didn't want women to fuck." she might be right... but hopefully, with a bit more trial and error, we'll figure out which angles and positions work best for us. i wonder if our size difference contributes to the hassle? supposing that truly is the case, i won't be getting any taller, nor she any shorter. we'll just have to come up with a solution— which, as the power couple Double Blossom, should be easy enough.
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