It All Went Black: My Weekend Part 3

I was on that cold floor for a long time. Periodically, I would plead with Alistair to kiss me, but he was refusing until he was ready. For all the varied and depraved things that I like, the beauty of a kiss retains a special place in my heart. I would also ask simply to look at him. He has the prettiest face, and the prettiest dark brown eyes, and when I am high, I am not so bothered about gazing at him like an adoring puppy. I am generally not afraid of this anyway, but only when I am absolutely certain that the person feels the same, or that they are already gazing at me adoringly. If for any reason my position feels unsafe, I withhold these little pieces of romance.

There was a certain act that I had to perform in order to get Alistair to kiss me. Let's not talk about that for now.

I wanted him inside me so very much.

I we began fucking in the toilet, but it was too small, so we quickly moved to the lounge. He sat on the leather couch, and I straddled him. The french doors were open, and the two more sensible members of the party were outside at a table, under an umbrella. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, and they were enjoying toast, jam, and tea... and my sex noises.

Alistair periodically put his hand over my mouth to muffle me. He says I am too noisy. I can't help it. I do try to be quiet.Then Jimmy bounced back. I felt a bit bad, because I really only had eyes for Alistair at this point... Nevertheless, Jimmy was still trying to make me squeak.

It looked like it was about time for me to start abusing Alistair... he fleetingly looked receptive. And then something changed, and something happened that has never happened before. He had developed that look in his eye... this was not new. Alistair sometimes gets this absolutely vicious look in his eye, and then becomes especially sadistic.

And he looks so very, very hot.

Those of you who keep cats may understand. Have you ever seen the look in your cat's eyes, right before it is about to pounce on something, or playfully lacerate your hand? Well that is the look.

What was new is that I resisted, despite the great lack of physical strength that I have. And since I had somewhat over-medicated him, he was much less capable of pinning me down, or fighting me off. So we rolled onto the floor in a tangle of Maisie and Alistair, all teeth, nails, and hair-pulling. Alistair had a nasty little grin on his face,

"You fucking bitch!" was said to me at several moments.

If we were cats, we would have been hissing. We were certainly spitting...

And then, success! I managed to push him down and sit on his face. That'll immobilise him, I thought. Obviously, I was careful to allow him to breathe. Then I climbed off and pulled him up into a sitting position. He tried to take another playful swipe at me, and then passed out.

Like, really passed out.

For a moment, there must have been a look of surprise on my face. I turned to Jimmy and said,

"Ooops."

We took off the collar and cuffs he was wearing, and put him in the recovery position. (Again, dear readers, he was fine. Just lack of sleep, and too much party and play). I stepped outside into the garden,

"You guys," I said, "I have broken Alistair..."

There was nothing left to do, but let him sleep it off. Well, almost nothing. I decided that, pretty as he was, he could be even prettier. And since he was in no position to give me his thoughts on this, I decided to press ahead. He could thank me later.

There was the added bonus of one of my friends being an exceptionally talented photographer.

So with out further ado, I give you the fruits of our labours (albeit with my name and friend's logo blotted out in a crappy fashion...)

I do so love Alistair's bottom.