We collapse in bed together. As my head hits the pillow, I replay the night in my head. Snapshots on fast-forward. The dirty panties. The plug she kept inside of her. Licking it. Licking it together. The smell of her everywhere. The taste of her everywhere. I relive the moment I cum inside of her. The orgasm she gets with my gush of cum. I remember softening inside of her. The feel of hot cum pouring out of her pussy as she gets up. It reminds me of the lust that pours out of my body as soon as I cum. I hate that feeling.
Charlotte looks pretty slaked as well. Our eyes pass a knowing glance that say, "to be continued." At least for now, there's no possibility of going on. We're both exhausted.
She kisses me goodnight and then, to my surprise, starts to get out of bed. I grab her arm and give her a questioning look. She says, "I need to shower."
"Why?" I mumble, half asleep.
"Because that's over now."
"I don't want it to be ov...zzz." I can actually hear myself snore and I rouse up; just a bit.
"I'll be back in a minute." Her voice is a hundred miles away. I know she's left, but my mind doesn't quite register that she's gone. I continue to mumble, but then stop; realizing that even if I was being coherent, there's no one in the room left to hear me. The shower starts and I want to tell her not to, but it's no use. Sleep starts to overcome me.
A tug on my arm brings me fully awake. I open my eyes and groggily, try to reacquaint myself with the waking world. My head buzzes from the champagne. I didn't think you could get drunk off Champagne someone's already drank, but I guess you can. There's ambient light coming from the outer suite that casts a soft glow across the room. It's still very dark outside. I look at the LED from the alarm clock and realize I've only been sleeping for an hour. It's 1:37 am.
Thoughts of what we just did come racing through my head and I'm almost embarrassed by the sheer lechery of the past few hours. I debate whether the whole thing hadn't been a dream. One really filthy dream. But the lingering smell on my face assures me it was not. I blush and am glad Charlotte isn't in the room to see it. There's a bit of shame that's attached to being so dirty.
Speaking of which, where was she? The king-sized bed this room provides is the largest I've ever slept in. And that's saying a lot. Charlotte and I have slept in many, many beds. Big and small. There was a time that we spent weeks on company travel. The firm had gotten us two rooms, each with a bed smaller than a twin. We of course, sleep together every chance we get so, a twin it was. It turned out to be quite cozy. I'd be just as happy having Charlotte sleep on top of me so bed size has never been a concern. But this bed was outrageous. You could lie in any direction and still not touch the other person.
So it didn't surprise me that waking up, I couldn't tell if Charlotte was even in the bed. I reach out to feel for her and it's the first time I notice something wrong. I can't move my arm. I try again, but I'm paralyzed. I literally can't move my arm. It feels impossible to lift.
A panic rises in me and now I start to really wake up. I raise my other arm but get the same effect. I swing my head wildly, eyes scanning, trying to adjust to the half-dark. I'm fully awake now. The duvet is covering me so I can't see what's going on with my body. Thankfully, my legs still work and I start to kick the blanket off my body.
"Everything ok?"
"What's goin-"
Charlotte walks in from the bathroom. She's in stretch nylon tights and a matching black tank top. For it being 1:30 in the morning she looks really good. Even in the dark room, I can tell she's taken a shower and, has she done her hair? She knows how much I like it when she straightens her hair and wears make-up. I just have no idea what's going on. For a second, I forget that I can't move my arms and ask,
"Are you going somewhere?"
She smiles at me coyly. Even in the dim light, I can tell it's a little too coy. She yanks down the duvet and I am completely naked. Before I have time to be self-conscious about being totally naked I suddenly realize why I can't move my arms. Two long straps are pulling each of my wrists tight. The straps are long and stretch somewhere beneath the bed.
"You seem a little tied up. You want me to come back?"
"NO! Baby? What the hell?"
Charlotte and I have incredibly large sex drives and it makes us the perfect couple. We both like having sex. A lot. In a lot of different ways. I can hold off on an orgasm for as long as she needs me to. We sometimes have sex for literally hours before I feel the need to let go. But the unfortunate side effect of having an oversized libido is when the crash comes, it comes hard. No pun intended. After I cum, I can barely see straight. My cock gets instantly soft and it stays in that state for quite awhile. We've never been able to overcome this simple biological fact.
The worst part is, everything I thought was hot or sexy instantly evaporates. I get a little bit moody and the thought of doing anything sexual makes it worse. It's not a good place to be when you're with someone like Charlotte.
I'm pretty sure I can keep her satisfied with the marathon sex sessions, but if she wants something more, she's out of luck. In all the time we've been together, she hasn't ever indicated that this was a problem, but we've both talked about how we wish we could keep having fun. When I'm horny, the thought of her cum-covered body is as sexy of an image as I can muster.
When I do in fact, cover her body with my cum, I'm completely spent. Biology's curse I guess. If my brain didn't pump a crapload of endorphins when I came, Charlotte and I might actually fuck until we starve to death.
But at this precise moment, I'm completely confused. Charlotte knows my limitations just as well as I do. It's unfortunate, but we've lived with them for a long time. She knows very well I'm not up for doing anything until at least tomorrow morning.
I try to position my legs to cover myself. I bring my knees up and turn the lower half of my body. It's not as if Charlotte hasn't seen me naked a million times, but I don't like her looking at me when I'm flaccid. It makes me insecure when I'm not "full-sized." The way she has me splayed out, I feel unbelievably exposed and insecure.
"Babe, I just don't think this is gonna work. Could you undo my-"
The look on her face isn't disappointment. In the half-dark, it kind of looks like anger. She says,
"Put your damn legs down." She grabs each ankle and yanks them towards her. Hard. My legs extend fully from my body. I feel like I'm in the middle of some medieval torture.
"What the hell?"
She walks around the edge of the bed and sits down next to me. She places a finger on my lips and says "Shhh. Stop talking."
On her finger, I can smell the soft fragrance of Eternity, my favorite perfume. It's a stark contrast to the scent from a few hours ago. It has the intended effect. It calms me down; but just a little.
"You were so nasty before," she coos, "What happened?"
"Baby, you know how this goes. I need to recharge."
"But you were being soooooo bad," she continues in that sing-song voice. Her hand slips down between my legs. Over the years, I've let her know she's not allowed to touch m after I've come. It's partly because I feel strange around her with it not rock hard. But it's also because my cock gets incredibly sore. Charlotte knows better, but she's taking advantage of the fact that I can't do anything about it. I do everything I can with my body language to let her know this is not okay. She completely ignores it.
"You did things I can't even say out loud." Her voice is completely exaggerated. Cute and bubbly. The world has turned upside down I think. Charlotte turns into a pumpkin at 11. She can't stay up this late. I have no idea what the hell is going on.
"You begged me to spit in your mouth." There's a faux outrage in her voice. "You got off on sucking my spit." She continues, a half whisper, half-exclamation. "And the panties. You begged me for those panties. They were filthy. Completely disgusting. They were soiled." She emphasizes this last bit. Not that she needed to.
"You put something like that in your mouth, what am I supposed to think?"
I get increasingly agitated. I can't stand quiet while Charlotte acts as if she didn't initiate everything. That she didn't force half those things on me. I say,
"Baby, what the fuck? You --"
The finger that was resting over my lips turns into the palm of her hand. She completely covers my mouth as she climbs all the way onto the bed with me. A strand of hair falls across my face and I catch a whiff of her shampoo.
