BDSM, What Women Really Want, Wonderboy

Being used

You’re not supposed to do that. Hey, what are you doing? Mom has said you can’t do that.

I’ll just touch them a little. She won’t know.

It’s so easy to fall in to the roles. It’s so easy I can’t believe we forgot how to.

Today I didn’t submit to his will; I resisted somewhat. I held my legs together when he tried to feel me up through my panties. He then went the other way, groped between my ass cheeks. When he took his pants off and put his already slick cock between my ass cheeks, I felt a shiver go through my body. Goosebumps rose on my skin from pure delight.

You can’t do that.

I’m not doing anything.

I was so happy, it didn’t even occur to me. That we were playing again, so happily and naturally.

He climbed on top of me, pulled me down on the bed, right under him and put his cock on the gateway. He slid it back and forth and I begged him not to enter. When he did, I said it hurts. It did hurt a bit, it does most of th time. But most of the time it isn’t super hot to say it, or admit feeling it. It was now. He got even more turned on and soon started to pound me so it hurt even more. I felt an orgasm building up, but he stopped hurting me.

I kept thinking I love it when you hurt me, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. It wouldn’t fit the play. I have to work on that. How to ask for pain, when I’m playing reluctancy? Any tips?

He went on to enjoy me in other ways, which included tying me from my ankles with his hands  to a straightlegged fucking position for him to reach my cervix for sure, and finally rolled me over for a very usual grande finale. He put his legs over mine and sat on my ass. Then he slid his cock inside of me. He kept it there for a while, tentatively, and then started to move my body from the waist to meet his cock. He was effectively masturbating with my whole body, slamming my body against his cock. I love it when he does that; I feel so used. It makes me want to come.

I felt his hand try to smooth the flock of hair from my face. I thought he was worried, if I was enjoying myself, but I soon realized he was just there to tie me up from the bed by my hair. And then he put his other hand on my back so I couldn’t move. My head was held back, way back, by the hair and his cock was slamming in me, and his whole body weight was on my ass and over my legs, and he was pushing me against the mattress.

I came, I’m embarrassed to say, with a whole series of farts. I hate it when that happens. It’s not only funny and kind of awkward, it kind of takes the edge away from the orgasm. I don’t know why. But I did come. The last ten minutes I spent on another level of conscious. And I saw him. I felt his almost cold lips against my cheek. I saw his eyes, they were dark and bloodshot from tiredness. And I felt love, love and lust for him. He was my fantasy, and I was in it too. My head filled with glee.

He was using me. I was being used.

I couldn’t have been more happy.

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4 thoughts on “Being used

  1. Thanks again, Jnakabb.

    The last time we had hot sex I just yelled “Fuck me, fuck me real hard, please fuck me” even though I was supposed to “not want it”. I don’t feel like giving symbols to everything we do; it would feel so pronounced and only distance us from the passion. But the thought of “green” being there might be good at some point, in some other play. We’ll see.

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