He pulls me into his body, wrapping his arms around my sleepy frame. One hand trails lazily down my back, slow, delicate little touches all the way down my spine. He lingers in the small of my back; drawing little circles with his finger tips before slowing starting the climb back up towards my shoulders. A little shiver runs through me and I mumble into his shoulder
“Ohhh yes, touch my back”
My back is one of the most sensual parts of my body. I absolutely love having it touched; from gentle soft strokes to sharp scratches of his nails, or the claw or if I am very lucky the cold sharp blade of a knife that leaves stinging red welts that came back to life over the next few days each time I shower.
There is something about being touched there that I find really intimate and the joy of it is that it can happen almost anywhere. That moment when he places his hand in the small of back as he holds a door open for me always sends a little jolt of desire through my body. Sometimes when I am driving, especially in the summer if I am wearing a sundress, he will reach out a caress the top of my back and neck in this gentle absentminded manner that makes me want to purr. Or when I am making tea and he will come up behind me and plants little kisses on my shoulder making me want to forget the tea and get lost in his touch.
Sometimes when my back is sore from the gym I will ask him to ‘Doxy me’ and I was lay naked on the bed while he eases away all the knots and tension in my muscles. Finding all those little spots that make me gasp and working away at them until I am completely and utterly relaxed. Sometimes it ends there and sometimes it doesn’t and once he is done with my back he will tell me turn over and slip the Doxy between my legs and make me cum.
I love backs, not just mine but other people’s. In a man I love the shape and feel of shoulders and the muscles that sit beneath the surface. I like letting my fingers explore, wandering all over, dipping down in the small of his back, letting my nails graze the skin. Is there a man on this planet who does like his back being scratched? I am sure there is, I have just never met him. The delightful little groans of pleasure that he emits when I get it just right makes me want to grind myself up against him.
For him I know my back often looks to him like a blank canvas on which to leave his marks. The knife is sharp, so sharp in fact that at times it creates the illusion that it is slicing into my flesh as it runs across my skin in hot fiery trails. The cups always make me gasp as he places the cool ring of glass against my flesh. No matter what temperature the room is they always feel startlingly cold. As he draws the air out of them they grab and pinch at my skin. As they draw more and more blood into the flesh directly beneath them they slowly become hotter and tighter, building into a throbbing intensity that I love. The medical staples are a fairly new experience to us but one that we will definitely continue to explore. Each snap of the gun comes with a different sensation. In some places it is a sharp pinch that makes me hiss and in others a dull tightness. You never know which one it will be. It is that anticipation of the unknown that makes my heart beat faster and little beads of sweat prickles across my brow as the adrenaline pumps through my system. Taking them out general involves a tugging sensation which makes me shiver and afterwards the skin on my back remains highly sensitive around each puncture mark as the blood lingers in the area making sure that the tiny steel teeth are no longer trying to invade my body.
The one thing that I struggle with though is having my back flogged. I have watched so many people doing this and always think it looks so lovely and yet for some reason when it comes to the experience it makes me flinch and hunch my shoulders. I don’t even really know why but it is a play that I really struggle with. I love the idea of it and yet the reality of it seems to be something my body just can’t accept. I don’t want to give up though, I feel like I missing something, and if only I could relax into it, I would be able to enjoy it. Time will tell on that.
My back is definitely an erogenous zone and it likes all sorts of attention from delicate feather like touches that make me shiver to sharp metal objects being forced into the skin. I often say to him “what would I do without you” (for many reasons, not just sex) and he says, “I am sure you could find someone to fuck you” and we will joke and laugh about it but the truth is he is probably right and I suspect I could but I very much doubt I could find someone who would spend half as much time caressing my back as he does and that would be a much bigger deal for me than cock. After all I can fuck myself but I can’t stroke my own back.