Pegged, Milked, and Fisted: My Night with Sally

Like all my other training locations, I was in Baton Rouge for one year, one week a month.

This was my second time working in Louisiana, but my first in Baton Rouge. As before, I met Sally on a BDSM swingers website. She was my age—early 60s—a very petite woman, 4’3”, attractive, with a perfect body: small breasts, average weight, and a shaved pussy.

I’m 5’3”, 145 lbs, with short hair and an average build. My cock measures 5”–5.5”; I’ve been told it’s very pretty, with a perfect shape and size. My bottom isn’t big, but it’s shapely like a woman’s. Most men and women adore my ass.

I chatted with Sally for a couple of months before we met. She lived in a small town about 40 miles away. Our conversations were entirely sexual, mostly revolving around restraints, prostate play, pegging, dildos, pussy pumps, fisting, and pee play.

Most of the things Sally wanted to do, I had never experienced, so I was excited when we finally arranged to meet.

I drove to Sally’s after work on a Tuesday. She lived alone in a nice small house. It was dark, so I didn’t see much of the place. Once inside, Sally and I talked about what we wanted to do sexually, how far to go, and our limits—pain, scat, and so on.

I asked her to go first, since I had almost zero experience with this kind of play.

Sally stripped me naked while she remained fully clothed. She put my hands behind my back and handcuffed them, then started rubbing my cock, which was already hard and dripping. I’m a prolific leaker; my cock drips at the mere mention of sexual things.

She took my cock in her mouth and my balls in her hand. She began to squeeze my ball sack—hard—until I was squirming. At the same time, she rubbed my bottom and teased my rosebud.

Sally stopped sucking, stood up, turned me around, and pushed me over the arm of her couch, kicking my legs apart. She started spanking my ass and occasionally striking my balls. The hits to my balls hurt and made me jump.

This continued until my bottom was bright pink and stinging with every slap. My balls ached. When Sally asked how I was doing, I said I was basically okay but getting sore.

So she rubbed cream onto my ass cheeks and between them, coating my rosebud in the process. I didn’t see it, but she grabbed a metal butt plug and proceeded to push it into my ass.

I had used butt plugs before, just not one this big. It was a real struggle and stretch, but Sally got it in anyway. She went back to sucking and stroking my cock until I was hard again, then slipped a thick rubber ring around my balls and cock base.

There wasn’t much talk between us; she would simply bark commands, and I obeyed. So there I was, sitting on the couch, hands cuffed behind me, cock hard, balls swollen, ass stretched by the plug, wondering what came next.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, letting me take it all in: the thick, realistic dildo already locked into her harness, the smaller plug dangling from the back (clearly meant to fill her own ass while she fucked mine), and in her other hand, a soft pinkish silicone chastity cage—small enough that my leaking cock would be squeezed and controlled inside it.

Sally’s eyes had that calm, predatory glint. She stepped closer, barefoot on the hardwood, still fully clothed while I was naked, plugged, cuffed, and ringed.

“Stand up,” she said quietly. No need to raise her voice; I obeyed immediately. The metal plug shifted heavily inside my ass as I rose. My swollen balls ached with every small movement, and a fresh bead of precum dripped from the tip of my cock.

She circled me slowly, trailing one finger across my pink, stinging cheeks. “Good boy. You took that big plug like you were made for it.”

Then she stopped in front of me, holding up the cage.

“This is going on next. It’ll keep that pretty cock from getting too excited while I fuck you. And since you leak so much…” She smiled, almost sweetly. “…it’ll make a nice little mess inside for you to taste later.”

She knelt and, surprisingly gently, worked the cold ring behind my swollen balls first, then carefully fed my half-hard, dripping shaft into the short tube. It was tight—deliberately so—forcing my cock into the cage and trapping the head against the slotted end. A small padlock clicked shut. The key disappeared between her breasts.

She stood, buckled the harness around her narrow hips, and adjusted the plug at the back until she gave a soft sigh of satisfaction as it seated inside her. The dildo now jutted forward, thicker and longer than my own cock, glistening with lube she had already applied.

Sally stepped in close, cupped my chin, and forced me to meet her eyes.

“Safe word still the same?” she asked, checking in.

I nodded and answered, “Yes.”

“Good.”

She kissed me once—hard, possessive—then turned me toward the couch again.

“Bend over. Hands stay cuffed. Legs wide. I want to see that plug stretching your pretty ass while I take it out and replace it with something that moves.”

My heart hammered; this was my first time being pegged. The cage felt tight, milking another slow drop out of me as I got into position: ass up, face against the cushion, completely exposed and waiting for her to decide exactly how she was going to open me up and fuck me.

Goosebumps covered me. My breathing was shallow.

I heard the soft snap of a lube bottle behind me, then felt her warm hand spreading my ass cheeks.

I think I was ready for whatever command came next.

Her fingers spread my cheeks wider. Cool lube dripped down my crack as she eased the metal plug out with a slow, deliberate twist. The sudden stretch followed by emptiness made me gasp, but the feeling lasted only a second.

Then the blunt, slick head of the strap-on pressed against my loosened rosebud—much thicker, warmer from her body heat, and unyielding.

Sally didn’t rush. She leaned over me, her small breasts brushing my back through her shirt, and whispered right against my ear:

“Relax and push back, sweetheart. You’re going to take every inch for me.”

She began to sink in with steady, relentless pressure. The dildo was big—easily bigger than anything I’d had before—and it forced my ass ring to open wider than the plug ever had. There was that burning stretch, the overwhelming fullness, and then—pop—the head slipped past my sphincter and seated deep inside. I groaned into the couch cushion, legs trembling.

Sally gave me only a moment to adjust before she slid the rest in, one smooth thrust until her hips met my pink ass cheeks. The curved shaft pressed firmly and constantly against my prostate—like a heavy, insistent hand milking me from the inside.

My caged cock jerked uselessly in its tight silicone prison. Another thick drop of precum was forced out of the slot and dripped onto the floor. My swollen, ringed balls ached with every heartbeat, pulled tight and heavy, with no room for relief.

She started to move.

Long, slow strokes at first, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in, making sure I felt every ridge and vein of the hard silicone shaft. Each thrust ground that curved head over my prostate again, sending electric waves through my pelvis.

I was leaking steadily now, a thin string of clear fluid hanging from the pink cage.

Sally’s small hands gripped my hips tightly. Then one slid up my chest and twisted a nipple—hard—making me yelp and clench around the dildo, which only drew a low chuckle from her throat.

“That’s it… squeeze me while I fuck you.”

The other hand came down sharp on my already-pink ass—crack—then again, harder, alternating cheeks until my skin was hot and throbbing. Every slap made me jolt forward, driving the dildo even deeper for a split second and intensifying that deep prostate pressure.

She picked up the pace, hips snapping faster now. The harness creaked softly, and the plug in her own ass was clearly doing its job because her breathing grew ragged too.

She reached around and flicked the cage lightly, making my trapped cock bob and leak more.

“Look at you,” she murmured, voice husky. “Plugged in both ends now—one in your ass fucking your prostate senseless, the other keeping that pretty cock locked and dripping.”

“You’re going to stay just like this—edged, full, aching—until I decide you’ve had enough.”

She pinched both my nipples at once, twisted, and slammed in deep, holding there while grinding in small circles so the pressure on my prostate never let up.

My whole body shook. Breaths came in desperate little pants. I had completely surrendered to her rhythm and her control. And she was nowhere near done with me yet.

Sally pulled out slowly, deliberately, letting me feel every ridge drag across my swollen prostate one last time. With the sudden emptiness, I whimpered; my gaping hole twitched, trying to close, but still too stretched.

She didn’t give it the chance.

I heard the click of a lube bottle again, then felt the cold, blunt tip of something even bigger pressing against my hole—a heavy stainless-steel or thick silicone plug, wider at the base, unmistakably larger than the previous one.

She twisted it, working it in with short, firm pushes until my ring finally yielded and it seated with a deep, satisfying pop. I was now stretched and fuller than I’d ever been; the wide flare locked it in place, applying constant pressure to my prostate again.

My caged cock spasmed uselessly. Another thick drop was forced out.

“Good boy,” she murmured, patting my hot, spanked cheek. “I don’t want that pretty hole closing up on me. You’re staying open and ready.”

She disappeared for a minute, leaving me bent over the arm of the couch, hands still cuffed, breathing hard, ass high, plugged, and cock dripping.

When she returned, she was gloriously naked. Petite, yes, but every inch of her was toned and inviting: small, firm breasts with stiff pink nipples, flat stomach, and that smooth, shaved pussy I’d been fantasizing about for months—lips already slightly swollen and glistening.

In one hand, she carried a clear plastic pussy pump, the cup complete with hose and hand bulb. In the other, a Feeldoe—the shaft end already slick, the bulb end meant to go inside her, while the ridged part would grind against her clit as she fucked me with it later.

She stepped close, ran her fingers through my short hair, then tilted my head up to look at her.

“I really have to pee,” she said softly, almost conversationally. “And you’re going to help me with that in a minute.”

First, though, she held up the pump.

“This goes on my pussy. You’re going to work the bulb, slow and steady, until my lips are big and swollen and sensitive. I want them puffed up and dark pink before you put your mouth on me.”

She sat back on the couch, legs spread wide right in front of my face, feet planted on the edge so her pussy was fully exposed. She placed the clear cup over her mound, sealing it against her smooth skin.

I could smell her arousal and could see that her pussy was dripping, already slightly gaping open.

“Start pumping. Nice and slow. Watch how it swells.”

I leaned in awkwardly, hands still bound, using my mouth and chin to steady things when needed, and squeezed the bulb rhythmically.

With each pump, her inner lips bloomed outward, filling the cup, turning deeper pink, then reddish-purple as blood rushed in. She sighed, head falling back, fingers lightly circling her clit above the seal.

When she was satisfied—engorged and visibly throbbing—she released the vacuum with a soft pop and pulled the cup away. Her pussy was transformed: lips fat, glossy, hypersensitive.

“Now,” she said, voice husky, guiding my face between her thighs. “Eat me exactly how I tell you.”

She gave clear, calm instructions: long flat licks from her entrance up to her clit, then gentle sucking on those swollen lips, no teeth, circles around her clit but not directly on it yet, then deeper with my tongue, fucking her with it while she ground against my face.

I obeyed eagerly, tasting her for the first time—sweet and musky—her arousal coating my chin as she rocked against my mouth. She moaned softly, one hand in my hair, the other reaching for the Feeldoe.

When she was close, thighs trembling, she pulled my head back gently.

“Enough. Now watch.”

She slid the bulb end of the Feeldoe inside herself with a low groan, seating it deep, then adjusted it so the shaft stood out rigid and ready, curving slightly upward.

She stood, pulled me upright by the cuffs, and turned me around again.

“Back over the arm. That new plug stays in for now. I’m going to fuck myself on your tongue for a minute, then I’m going to use this on you while you drink every drop I give you.”

Her voice dropped, intimate and commanding.

“And when I say open your mouth, you open. Understand?”

I nodded, heart pounding, mouth watering, ass clenching around the massive plug, cock straining painfully in its tiny cage. I was ready for whatever she wanted.

Sally paused, her breath still ragged from the buildup. She reached behind me and uncuffed my wrists. My arms fell free, tingling with pins and needles, but I didn’t dare move without permission. She smiled down at me, her naked body glowing in the low light, those swollen pussy lips still flushed from the pump and my tongue.

“Hands behind your head,” she commanded softly. “Keep them there. Now, open wide for me.”

She stepped forward, straddling my kneeling form, and guided my face right into her dripping heat. Her fingers tangled in my short hair, pulling me close as she started to rock her hips, fucking my mouth with deliberate, grinding thrusts. My tongue flattened instinctively, lapping at her clit and folds as she used me like her personal toy.

The taste of her—sweet, tangy, overwhelming—filled my senses.

All the while, that massive new plug in my ass was pure torture and bliss. Every shift of weight, every involuntary clench, ground it deeper against my prostate. It was constant, unyielding pressure, milking me relentlessly. My caged cock throbbed in agony, leaking a steady stream of precum onto the floor beneath me, swollen balls aching like they were about to burst.

I moaned into her pussy; the vibrations made her gasp and grind harder.

“Fuck, yes… just like that,” she panted, her pace quickening. Her thighs trembled around my ears, and soon she was chasing her release, humping my face with abandon.

It hit her—a small, shuddering orgasm that made her clit pulse against my tongue. She cried out softly, flooding my mouth with a fresh gush of her arousal, but she didn’t stop right away, riding out the aftershocks.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were dark with lust.

“On your back. Now. Floor.”

I scrambled to obey, lying flat on the cool hardwood, hands still laced behind my head, ass plugged tight.

Sally didn’t hesitate; she swung a leg over and lowered herself right onto my face, mounting me like a throne. Her weight settled; those fat, pumped lips spread wide over my mouth and nose, smothering me with her slick warmth.

“Ride it,” she ordered, starting to buck her hips again, fucking my face with her pussy in earnest now. My tongue dove deep, swirling and thrusting as she ground down hard; she used my nose to rub her clit.

The plug in my ass shifted with every movement, pressing that prostate button over and over, forcing more desperate leaks from my trapped cock.

I was drowning in her scent, her taste, completely helpless and loving it.

She built fast this time, her moans turning to sharp cries.

“Don’t stop… fuck, I’m gonna—”

And then she exploded.

It was a gusher—a hot, forceful squirt that sprayed into my mouth, down my chin, soaking my face and neck. At first I thought it was pee—warm, endless—but no, it was pure, clear squirt. Her body convulsed as she came harder than before, drenching me in her release.

She didn’t move for what felt like forever, grinding slowly through the afterglow, her full weight pinning me down. It was smothering; I struggled to breathe through the flood, but I lapped eagerly, swallowing what I could, savoring her.

My lungs burned a little, but the prostate pressure had me on the edge of madness—cock straining, balls blue, body trembling.

Finally, she lifted up just enough to look down, her face flushed and triumphant, pussy still hovering inches from my lips.

“Open your mouth wide, slut. Tongue out. You’re gonna take my gift now.”

I obeyed instantly, mouth gaping, and she let go. Her bladder released in a strong, hot stream—golden pee splashing right onto my tongue, filling my mouth fast.

“Swallow it all!” she commanded, voice raw, one hand reaching back to twist my nipple hard for emphasis. “Every fucking drop is for you. Drink me, you dirty boy!”

I gulped desperately; the warm, salty flood hit the back of my throat. I swallowed again and again. It spilled over my lips, running down my cheeks and neck, pooling under my head.

She aimed it perfectly, making sure I got it all—face, mouth, chest—marking me as hers.

The humiliation burned deliciously, mixing with the relentless prostate massage from the plug, pushing me closer to that denied, caged edge.

She finally finished, shaking off the last drops onto my tongue, then ground her pussy back down lightly, smearing the mess.

“Good boy,” she purred, catching her breath. “You took that like you were born for it.”

She slid off, kneeling beside my soaked, trembling body. Her fingers trailed through the wetness she left on my chest, then dipped down to flick the cock cage teasingly.

“Look at you… plugged, leaking, covered in me. But we’re not done. Not even close.”

Your heart races. What’s next? The night is young, and Sally’s eyes promise so much more.

Sally sighs contentedly, her body still flushed and glistening from her powerful release. She slides off me completely now and settles back onto the couch with her legs tucked under her, breathing deep and slow.

“Mmm… that was perfect,” she murmurs, eyes half-lidded as she watches me—still on the floor, face and chest soaked in her squirt and pee, ass plugged tight, cock straining in its cage.

She pats the cushion beside her.

“Come here, sweetheart. Kneel up close.”

I crawl over, knees on the rug, positioning myself between her spread thighs. She reaches down; her small fingers deftly unlock the chastity cage.

The silicone tube slips off with a soft pop, and my cock—finally free—springs up, rock-hard, flushed dark red, and dripping even more than before. The thick rubber ring remains locked around the base of my balls, keeping them swollen, pulled tight, and hypersensitive.

Sally smiles, tracing a fingertip along the underside of my cock, collecting a bead of precum and bringing it to her lips.

“Look at you… so desperate. You’ve been such a good boy tonight. It’s time you get to cum. The first time, at least.”

She stands and guides me gently but firmly.

“Hands and knees on the floor. Right here, ass up high, back arched.”

I position myself on all fours; the massive plug is still buried deep, pressing relentlessly against my prostate. I expect her to reach for the Feeldoe or the harness again, to peg me hard while I finally get relief—but she doesn’t. Instead, she kneels behind me, her petite frame small but commanding.

“Stay just like that,” she says softly. “Don’t move. Don’t touch yourself.”

Her warm, slick hand (still glistening from her own arousal) slides between my ass cheeks. She grips the base of the huge plug and slowly, carefully twists it out, inch by inch, until my hole is gaping again, empty and twitching.

The sudden void makes me groan, but before I can miss it, her fingers are there—two, then three—sliding in easily thanks to all the lube and prior stretching.

She curls them expertly, searching, finding that swollen, sensitive spot inside me. Then she starts the massage.

It’s not gentle. Not rough. It’s perfect—slow, deep, rhythmic pressure right on my prostate, circling, pressing, stroking in a steady come-hither motion that makes my whole body light up. The sensation is overwhelming, electric, like a direct line to my balls and cock. Every press forces a thick rope of precum to drip from the tip of my cock onto the floor.

Sally’s other hand reaches under me, cupping my bound, swollen, and tender balls, rolling them gently while she massages.

“That’s it,” she whispers, voice low and soothing. “Let it build. Feel me milking you from the inside. You don’t need to be fucked to cum tonight—just my fingers, right here, owning your prostate.”

The pressure builds fast. My hips rock involuntarily, chasing her touch. My cock throbs untouched, veins standing out, head slick and swollen. The scrotum binder keeps everything tight, intensifying every pulse.

Her fingers never stop—precise, relentless—hitting that spot over and over until my breath comes in desperate gasps.

I’m shaking. Legs trembling. Toes curling.

The orgasm hits like a freight train—no warning, no stroking, just pure prostate bliss.

My cock jerks hard, untouched, and I cum in long, powerful spurts—thick ropes shooting onto the floor beneath me, each one forced out by her fingers pressing and rubbing my prostate through the waves. I moan loudly, body convulsing, emptying everything I’ve been holding back all night.

Sally keeps the massage going through every pulse, drawing it out, milking every last drop until I’m spent, whimpering, hips twitching with aftershocks. Only then does she slowly withdraw her fingers, giving my gaping hole a gentle pat.

She leans over my back, kissing between my shoulder blades.

“There… that’s my good boy. First one done. But we’re just getting started.”

She helps me sit up slowly, still on my knees, cum pooling on the floor in front of me. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she wipes a finger through the mess and brings it to my lips.

“Clean up your gift, then we’ll see what else I have in mind for you tonight.”

My body is buzzing, exhausted and exhilarated, prostate still tingling, balls still bound and aching.

Sally and I rest for a few minutes, my head in her lap, her fingers gently stroking my hair while I still hum from that first deep prostate orgasm.

The thick ring around my cock and balls keeps everything swollen and sensitive; my cock twitches every time the massive plug shifts inside.

She leans down, kisses my forehead, and whispers, “One more, baby. I want to feel you cum again… but this time with my whole hand inside you.”

My breath catches. We’ve talked about fisting online for months, but never done it. She sees the mix of nerves and hunger in my eyes and smiles reassuringly.

“I’ll go slow. You say ‘yellow’ if it’s too much, ‘red’ to stop. Okay?”

I nod, voice hoarse: “Yes, ma’am.”

She helps me back onto hands and knees, then positions a thick towel under me (practical, prepared). The plug comes out slowly this time, a long, slick slide that leaves me gaping and empty for a moment. Cool air rushes in; I feel open, vulnerable, ready.

Sally kneels behind me, gloving her small right hand and coating it generously with lube. She starts with three fingers, then four, scissoring gently, letting my body remember how to relax and accept.

Each addition stretches me wider; the burn is delicious and intense. I push back instinctively, breathing deep, moaning softly.

When her thumb tucks in and her knuckles press against my ring, she pauses, letting me adjust, knowing what’s coming next.

“Breathe out and push back on me, sweetheart.”

There’s a long, exquisite moment of resistance… then my sphincter blooms open and her entire hand slips inside with a slick, obscene pop.

The stretch is overwhelming—fuller than anything before—but the way she immediately curls her fingers and presses her knuckles right against my swollen prostate turns the burn into pure electricity.

“Oh fuck…” I groan, dropping to my elbows, ass high in surrender.

She starts slow, small twists and gentle thrusts of her wrist, her fist massaging my prostate in deep, rolling waves. Every movement milks directly, firmly, relentlessly. Precum pours from my uncaged but still-ringed cock in a steady stream, pooling on the towel.

Her left hand reaches under me, not stroking—just cupping my heavy balls, tugging lightly on the ring to heighten the sensation.

“Let it build,” she murmurs. “Don’t chase it. Just feel my fist owning your prostate.”

The pressure mounts fast. Her hand rotates, fingers spreading slightly inside, then closing again, rubbing that sweet spot from every angle. My legs shake. Moans turn into desperate whimpers. I can feel the orgasm rising from deep inside, different from any before—slow, inevitable, enormous.

Sally senses it, speeds up just a fraction, her voice calm and commanding:

“That’s it… give it to me. Cum with my fist in your ass.”

It hits like a tidal wave.

My whole body locks, prostate convulsing around her buried hand as thick, heavy ropes of cum pulse out—untouched again, just pure internal milking.

Each contraction squeezes her fist; each squeeze forces another spurt. I cry out, vision whiting out, hips jerking helplessly as she keeps the pressure steady, drawing it out until I’m empty, trembling, utterly spent.

Only then does she ease her hand out—slowly, carefully—leaving me clenching around nothing, completely open and wrecked.

She peels off the glove, wraps her arms around me from behind, and pulls me down to the floor with her, spooning my shaking body.

“Beautiful,” she whispers. “You took my whole hand like you were made for it.”

I lie there in her arms, drenched in sweat, cum, and lube, heart pounding, ass throbbing with the most delicious ache I’ve ever felt.

And for the first time all night, I feel perfectly, utterly satisfied—at least until she decides she’s ready for round three.

We both take a long, quiet break on the couch—hydrating, catching our breath, bodies tangled together under a light blanket. Sally’s head rests on my chest, her small hand idly tracing circles around my nipple while I stroke her back.

The room smells of sex, sweat, and lube; the towel on the floor is evidence of how thoroughly she’s wrecked me tonight.

Eventually, she stirs, stretches like a cat, and looks up at me with that familiar glint in her eye.

“It’s getting late,” she says softly, “but I want one more thing before you go.”

She kisses me slow and deep, then stands, takes my hand, and leads me to her bedroom. The lights are low, the bed already turned down. She crawls onto it on all fours, knees wide, back arched, presenting her perfect little ass.

“I want you to fuck my ass,” she says, voice husky but steady. “Slow at first, then however you need. And when you’re ready to cum… don’t. Just stay buried deep inside me until you go soft and then pee. Fill my butt with it. I want to feel you let go while you’re all the way in.”

She reaches back with both hands, spreading her cheeks. I can see her tight, pink rosebud—already glistening from the lube she quietly applied while we were drinking water.

I’m already half-hard just from the sight of her like this, submissive for the first time tonight after hours of owning me completely.

The cock ring is finally off; my balls still feel heavy and full despite the two milkings she gave me. I kneel behind her, line up, and press the head of my cock against her.

She breathes out slow, relaxes, and I sink in, inch by inch, until my hips meet her ass and I’m buried to the hilt. She’s impossibly tight, hot, clenching around me in little waves as she adjusts. A low moan escapes her throat.

“Fuck me,” she whispers. “Use my ass. Make it yours for once tonight.”

I start with slow, long strokes that make her gasp each time I bottom out. Her small body rocks forward with every thrust, breasts swaying, fingers gripping the sheets.

Gradually, I speed up; the sight of her spread open and taking my cock drives me to go harder. The sound of skin on skin fills the room; she pushes back to meet every thrust, moaning my name.

When I feel the pressure building—both the need to cum and the fullness in my bladder from all that water—I slow, grip her hips tight, and hold myself deep.

She knows. She stills, breathes deep, and murmurs, “Do it. Pee inside me. Give it all to me.”

I let go.

The sensation is incredible—warm urine flowing out of me, flooding her ass while my cock is softening and plugged inside her. I feel her clench and relax in rhythm, milking it deeper, taking every drop. She moans long and low, almost a growl, pushing back to keep me sealed tight so nothing leaks out.

When I’m finally empty, I stay inside her a little longer, both of us breathing hard, savoring the filthy intimacy of it. Only then do I slowly pull out; a small trickle follows, running down her thigh.

She collapses onto her side, pulls me down with her, and we kiss softly.

“Thank you,” she whispers, curling into me. “That was perfect.”

We hold each other in the quiet, spent and satisfied, until sleep finally pulls us both under.