Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

This is the post I’ve been meaning to put up all week, but keep being distracted by other shiny things…!

“I’m your girl,” I said, as I snuggled in under his arm, “I’m 100% all yours!”

“Good girl,” he replied, and he held me close, and we drifted off to sleep together.

By the time the weekend was upon us, I’d worked myself into being a formless mass of brainless jelly. Friday night I was too exhausted to do anything, and then Saturday it seemed clear that I was fighting off some bug. I got up, and went right back to bed three times! He was a wonderful Daddy, and after I dragged myself out of bed in the late afternoon, left me with orders to remain on the sofa and watch Star Trek until he returned from getting groceries for our dinner, and to stock me up for the next week while he would be away on business. We he came back, I was feverish, but felt so loved and cared for that I couldn’t help but feel a bit better. We went to bed early, and while we snuggled, he told me about the scene he’d wanted to have with me that day. I was entirely dismayed to have missed that opportunity, and couldn’t help but have those fears that I was disappointing him so much that he’d loose interest in playing with me … but he assured me that the scene will happen as soon as possible, and to be honest, I felt so crappy that the idea of adding pain to the mix was simply not attractive at that moment!

He was only telling me about the scene he wanted to have with me to make me feel loved. He knows I get so excited about the though of him thinking about me, and wanting to do “terrible” things to me … and so he was just letting me know that he’d indeed been doing so.

Sunday we had a brunch with a group of kinky friends: Midori and her wife, my Kissing Cousin Ariel and her RubrLuvr, T & L from Oz, and Mistress Absolute from the UK – a very international and well-traveled group of perverts! We ate dim sum and talked about anything and everything under the sun, and it was just one of those lovely get-togethers of your own peers, where you can just discuss anything at all and get an enthusiastic (and probably very knowledgeable!) response.

Afterwards, I felt a bit renewed from the happy companionship, and when we got home I managed to cook him dinner (Scotch Broth) so it would be ready when we got back from our movie.

I love when he takes me out to movies. It’s not very often, and so it always feels special. This was especially special, as it was Coraline in 3D, and Neil Gaiman is very much a shared thing we delight in (yes, I mean thing – not just his books, but his blog, which we both read and discuss. Neither of us has met Neil, although we both feel very fond about him and happy for him when good things come his way, so I can’t say that Neil as a person is who we delight in, since we don’t really know him as a person – although I think it’s probably safe to assume it – but the whole Neil Gaiman thing is something we know about and can share). We got popcorn (he insists that he hates popcorn, but he would always eat mine, so this time I gently suggested we get two bags of it, and he must have spilled his or something, but long before I finished my bag, his was empty!)

We came home from the wonderful movie all jazzed up, me feeling the best I had in days. My bad girl side was in effect, not being bad so much as cheeky and bold. He really seems to like the occasional taste of that, and so I did things like walk up behind him as he waited for me to leave the loo in the theatre, and grabbed his ass so that he jumped out of his skin, not knowing who’d just grabbed a goodly handful of his right cheek! I flirted outrageously in the car, made out with him in the elevator, and when we got into the apartment, pushed him onto the bed and gave him the Mother Of All Blow-jobs.

He didn’t seem to mind my froward-ness too much, because the most delightful thing happened: when he came I actually felt the come rushing up inside his cock (there was quite a lot of it, and under a great deal of pressure!) and I felt it shooting from the base of his cock to when it exploded in my mouth. It was truly amazing – as I told him as we snuggled afterwards, “Do it again! I wanna do it again!”

He suggested a break for dinner, and so I heated up our soup and we watched a show together and then I was supposed to pack his bags for him, but my burst of energy had fizzled out, and so he left me on the sofa while he packed. (I did manage to get up and make us tea and some dessert, for which I think I deserve many points!)

Then we went to bed, and despite feeling wiped out, I wanted to give him that second blow-job (and he wanted to receive it, unsurprisingly) so I scooted down between his legs and was startled to find him rock hard already!

At this point, some strange blow-job alchemy happened, and I suddenly broke through my inability to deep-throat for any significant amount of time. All of a sudden, I found myself comfortably deep-throating him, and the urge to gag was just gone. When I realized this, a throb started in my pussy, and going down on him became almost as pleasurable as taking him deep in my pussy would be.

He hadn’t quite had enough to re-manufacture enough ejaculate to have the geyser of an ejaculation that he’d had before, but his orgasm was no less intense and affected both of us. He held me tight, afterwards, in that way that says, “I love you” more passionately than words can ever do. And, in thinking about it, I may have already told him, “I love you,” just as non-verbally and equally as passionately.

(Because why should I end on a romantic note when I can end on a silly one, I now keep hearing Freddie Mercury saying, “Ha ha ha — it’s magic!” in my head. I can only hope that I might someday achieve the blow-job skills that I do not doubt he possessed! In re-listening to the song, my mature response is, “Heh heh — he said, “shaft”!)

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