They motherfuckin’ lied.
Out their ass.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my kid. If I could do it all over again, I’d do it exactly the same way and all that trite bullshit. She’s pretty damn awesome, if I do say so myself. I’m kind of proud of myself for making such an awesome kid.
Brag moment (because I’m a parent and this is my blog and I can write about whateverthefuck I want to write about, even if it’s about my kid):
My daughter is in kindergarten, and smart as all hell. No I’m serious, I know all parents want to think their kids are exceptional in every category. But I’m not one of those parents. There are certain things my kid just fucking sucks at. She’s so damned sensitive and thin-skinned, and she just shuts down if she’s under stress (which I’m hoping is mostly just because she’s five and living a privileged life, and she’ll grow out of it).
Academia happens to be one of her strengths. According to her most recent testing, she’s a full year ahead in reading and a year and a half ahead in math. Kid is fragile as fuck, but it’s fine, she’ll be able to wipe her tears with hundred dollar bills when she’s an adult and an astrophysicist or some shit.
I went out and bought some second grade math books to do with her after her regular school lessons, and she’s flying through most those with relative ease. And I’m having to do it because the pussies who run the homeschool program don’t want to bump her up to an appropriate level for fear of “challenging her too much.”
Oh, you mean shit in her life might actually be hard at some point? The unmitigated horror!
We have to protect the children and give them participation trophies and create a completely unrealistic view of how the world works, and then bitch and complain when they grow up and are not sufficiently equipped to deal with shit.
Whatever. It’s fine. I’m done fighting that battle this year. It’s already half over anyway, and I had to fight to get her on independent study, and fight to allow her to skip the lessons she already exhibits mastery of, and fight to do all this stupid shit you’d think people who make a career out of providing the best education possible to future generations wouldn’t protest against.
But back to my point.
As many pros as there are to reproducing, the impact on one’s kink life is a rather significant entry in the con column.
Like last night. Upon returning home from coffee with a friend at midnight-ish, I found Kazander lying on the couch, wearing his lacy panties, watching porn on his computer.
Moments later, I found myself sitting next to him, watching porn with him, pulling his panties off, and doing nice and not-so-nice things to his body.
And can I just say I love how masochistic he’s gotten lately? Because I love how masochistic he’s gotten lately. He’s never been one for a lot of CBT, but last night, when I pinched his cock and gripped his balls, he whimpered and curled up around me so sweetly, gasping and writhing in that sexy way of his.
Before long, I decided that just pinching wasn’t enough. Out came the clothespins.
Slapping his balls, yanking on the clothespins, pinching and twisting his nipples, and biting his ear were my activities of choice to distract him from the video.
But, as is wont to happen when I watch porn, I got horny. And I wanted a shower before making him go down on me.
So I set the computer down and told him he was going to pamper and bathe me. Naturally, the clothespins were going to stay right where they were.
It was so much fun grinding my ass against his cock with the clothespins on. Or running my fingertips lightly up his shaft, or nudging my knee against his groin.
And the noises he made when I finally took the clothespins off were just amazing.
The general plan was that he was going to lick me to an orgasm or two, then I would bend him over the edge of the bed and fuck him long and hard, and finally let him cum with my cock deep in his sore, raw, throbbing ass.
It started out well. We went into our bedroom (which is right next to the kid’s bedroom) and locked the door, then I grabbed him by his hair and shoved his face in my cunt.
He licked me to one orgasm, but I wanted another one. And I was almost fucking there when suddenly I heard crying from the next room.
“Oh, goddammit,” I muttered, pushing Kazander off me and opening the door. I stood in the spawn’s doorway to see her sitting on the bed, crying.
She always wakes up at some point in the very early morning and comes to sleep in bed with me. Apparently last night she woke up early. Seeing that my bedroom door was closed, she went into the living room to look for Kazander, and didn’t see him there, so she started crying.
I reassured her, refilled her cup of water, and tucked her back in.
The mood was basically shot.
But I wasn’t completely cruel. I would still let him cum. Once I was sure she was alright and back in bed, I went back to the bedroom and closed the door. I reached for a dildo and held it up for Kazander to see.
“Wanna take a guess where this is going?” I asked.
“Are you sure you want to do it?” he asked, referring to the possibility of another interruption.
“Yeah, but it’s going to be quick.”
So much for being able to endlessly tease and torment him.
I didn’t give him much time to get used to the size, and shoved the whole thing in him.
He was gasping and whimpering with pain, but his cute little clit was already dripping. He really is such a butt slut.
It took only a minute or two before he came, I handed him a towel to clean up, pulled the dildo out of him, and that was the somewhat underwhelming finish to what I had intended to be a much longer play session.
Oh well. We can always try again. And only 13 more years until she goes off to college.