It's Mel's time to tell the story

Wow, so long a pause between posts; we both apologise.

We've both been off of sex recently, after our last escapade (link). We've both been sore, and that pain I felt last time worried me a little. I've felt it a few times before, but never that bad. It turns out that the cure (link) is to avoid deep penetration (which isn't likely) and for me to be more turned on before sex (we both rarely can hold on for that long) so the other option is to carry on as we were and have longer breaks between sexual encounters.

For a couple of days, all we did was kiss and cuddle in fornt of the tele. Sean was feeling ill and I wasn't feeling too well either. That changed on Tuesday. Tuesdays are cinema nights at our student union, so Sean came round mine for dinner before catching the bus to campus. He told me I could have head, but I must tell him a story. If you've been following our blog, you'll know that I enjoy Sean telling me stories when I go down on him (link). That night, it seemed, he wanted the same treatment.

The problem is I embarrass very easily. It's one thing to write about sexual encounters, but quite another to say them out loud. Especially if I'm making it up and someone else is there to listen. So I decided I could quite happily go without head so I didn't have to say anything out loud. Sean didn't buy that idea. He sat on my bed and told me to find the wooden spoon, ever since the last time it was used (link) it's been hiding in my room rather than in the kitchen. He told me to lie over his knee, I obeyed. A few thwacks from the spoon and I am as horny as a ... a very horny Mel. He asks again if I will tell him a story and I respond 'no'. The spoon hits me again. He asks again, I respond with a 'no', enjoying our play. He takes off my jeans. This time it'll be on my bare. This time it stung. "Still no?" he asks. I nod. "Right".

He pushed me off of his lap and found my beloved dog chains (link). These he somehow tied to the handy pipes running along the skirting board at the head of my bed (you may also remember the handy pipes running under my desk (link) - the room designers must have been tuned in to their students' needs...) My top was pushed up to expose my tender breasts and he asked me once again. I shake my head. He hits my nipples. Ouch. He moves down my to my thighs. "Still no?" I nod. I get more wacks with the spoon.

Eventually I'm so horny I realise I need the release of orgasm. He isn't going to give me one until I tell him a story. With prompting I start telling him about a girl waiting on the corner of the road for her boyfriend. As I describe her, I find out I can't even say the word 'nipple' out loud. This is stupid, this is the man I share everything with. I carry on, Sean is now giving me the pleasure I craved. I manage, to my relief, to orgasm before I have to go on to details I feel uncomfortable saying out loud. It's strange, I can write them down. I just can't say them.