Monday Morning Quarterback

The next day as the sun was peering in my window which was what roused me from a very deep and well-earned sleep. I was exhausted, and after a few failed attempts to go back to sleep, I gave up. Sitting up, I did what I always did, and suspect most people do to. I yawned and stretched my arms to the ceiling, just by doing that I could tell it was going to be a rough day. Eventually, with a degree of dread I swung my legs over the side of my bed and instantly felt all the aches and pains from my encounter the night before from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. Sitting there, willing myself to move, it made me think of how footballers must feel on a Monday morning after Football Sunday.

The pain has settled deep into your bones, the drugs have all worn off and you're sitting there replaying the highlights. The mental game reel is rolling through your mind of all the plays that happened, or didn't, broken down one play at a time, frame by frame.

It's the kind of pain where you feel every subsequent move you make. Lifting up my arms to take off my shirt hurt. Bending down to step out of my pyjama pants hurt, damn near almost fell over trying to take off my panties, best to sit back down and go slow, one leg at a time.

I got into the shower and let the water's heat run down my body to loosen and relax my muscles. I just leaned against the wall for a few minutes with my back to the shower nozzle that was set to massage and enjoyed the hot water pellets beating against me. The water was almost too hot and my skin started to redden from it, matching the red marks that were already there. Battle scars of a game played with passion. Looking up at the shower head as the steam was filling the bathroom, I started to take personal stock of the events from the night before that led to this feeling and asked myself:

Why do my toes hurt?

From balancing on my tippy toes to reach his height so I could kiss those full lips that were shiny from my juices and tasted like my pussy.

Why do my calves hurt?

From basically doing calf raises to align my pussy to is dick when the height of the bed or the desk wasn't high enough for his 6ft1" to my 5ft 6" stature.

Why do my knees hurt?

From kneeling on the edge of the chair, the bed and the hard floor to take him in. Back shots, blowjob's and all.

Why do my thighs hurt?

From straddling and riding him forwards and backwards making his shaft disappear while I grind on it; bouncing up and down on beat and to his rhythm.

Why does my ass hurt?

From getting slapped repeatedly and harder than necessary, my cheeks spread and squeezed to make his cock look like a snake going in and out of my gardens entrance.

Why does my vagina hurt?

From the fingering that led to the pounding my tight pussy took until I screamed shook and came once in his mouth, and once on his dick.

Why does my waist hurt?

From his hands being wrapped around me so tight, controlling the pace and how deep each thrust would go.

Why do my wrists hurt?

From his big hands pinning me down by them and tightening his hold as he climaxed, and from the navy-blue silk tie he grabbed to use as restraints, tying me to the bedpost spread eagle rendering me completely submissive.

Why does my back hurt?

From being in a number of tantric positions to maximize his and my pleasure, balled up, twisted around and stretched out.

Why do my breasts hurt?

From being gently slapped and less gently squeezed together while his cock was gliding in between them.

Why do my nipples hurt?

From being pinched, flicked and twisted while erect, licked and sucked taking in my entire areola in his warm mouth.

Why do my shoulders hurt?

From balancing on my elbows, from being held onto slamming me back into his pelvis, from a doggystyle stance while he enjoyed the sound of my ass clapping and the view of his long strokes.

Why does my neck hurt?

From a few well-timed mini chokes, some to make me cum harder and some because he liked the look of his hands at my throat when he exploded his hot cum in my mouth.

Why do my cheeks hurt?

From the slaps I took while being the Sub to his Dom, and from them being squeezed to remind me not to look away while he was fucking my mouth and ensuring the seal of my lips stayed tightly around his cock.

As the knots softened and aches lessened, the next natural question is why do we do it to ourselves knowing the outcome? And the answer is simple as any athlete will tell you, we do it for the love of the game.

(E.D. 2021)