more reasons. or excuses?

night five: I invent an argument, shrug his advances off, roll over and go to sleep
night six: we're both drunk and worn out, and so we pass out
night seven: I submit. He wants a lot. I give it to him. It hurts.

I can't fake this

I snuggle up to you, purring like a cat, and ask you to hold tight to my hair.
you stroke your hand over my head ,over and over, stroking and smoothing.... wind your fingers into my tresses and pull tight.... You make me whimper and promise, I have to twist and turn and writhe to keep close to your hand- it's hurts- you lead me by my scalp...

Down on the floor on my hands and knees, you kneel beside me and press the flat of your hand into the small of my back, 'Arch your back', I do as you ask, lifting my ass up, opening myself and revealing her to you fully. At the beginning the force of the smack against my cheeks is a surprise. Again and again you bring your hand against me, hard, the sound reverberates through me before the pain registers. I can't ignore it, it hurts to much to get used to. Eventually the tears come but I don't ask you to stop. My glasses fill with salt water, I can hardly see out. When your fingers slap against her I begin to shake and cry.

Standing over me you feed your stiffening cock between my lips, over my tongue and force it down into my throat. You gaze down at my upturned face as I choke on you, thrusting into me, holding my head you smile down at me and force it further in.

Am I tear stained? mascara streaked? Does it turn you on to hurt me?

It should shame me to kneel like this. But it is pure joy to submit to you.

reasons or excuses?

night one: too late, I'm already in bed 'sleeping'
night two: I'm drunk, and worn out from the big day
night three:It's late, the bed is really uncomfortable, I'm allergic to my room and keep coughing...
night four: The heating is broken, we're both wearing pajamas, sweaters, hats....

I'm thinking maybe
night five: my mother's sleeping right above us