The next morning she slipped out of bed while he was still dozing and padded quietly to the bathroom. She peed, and washed her hands, splashed some water on her face…and looked at herself in the big mirror behind the sink. Normally she didn’t look at herself too closely in the mirror – body image issues (as the self help books said), and a faint, sublimated revulsion at what she’d let herself become over the years. But now, in the quiet of the morning, she looked at her reflection not with distaste but with…a kind of fascination. Like she was looking at a stranger…or she was looking at herself when she was fifteen or years old – when she made her very first, most tentative, naïve explorations of her sexuality, her own self pleasure… She studied the bruises, the bite marks, the hand prints and stripes, that covered her body front and back – the splotchy circles of black bruising where’d he’d bound and cinched her breasts … She wasn’t seeing a blobby, flabby, out of shape middle aged woman – which was how she usually saw herself. Instead she saw a woman, a girl on the verge of sexual awakening – full of life and potential … and most importantly, a woman not afraid to plunge into the unknown (she’d spent so much – too much – of her life afraid… She found herself thinking about last night – all the things she’d done, all the things he’d done to her – on her knees with her hands cuffed behind her back, choking on his rigid cock while he slapped her face and pulled her hair and ed her those awful names (bitch, whore, cumslut) … awful names, but all true, she couldn’t get enough – gagging on his beautiful gorgeous cock, she’d wanted it, wanted the gagging, the choking, the tears streaming down her face, the messy saliva/pre-come drooling down her, dripping onto her breasts and her aching tortured nipples…
Labor Day Booty
Come get treated like the slut you are for Labor Day. If you're lucky a friend may join in as well. WE are cooking out and ready for some fun.