After sex I thought like so many times before: That was completely normal. How come I think I’m a submissive or that he’s into domination, if we don’t even do anything like that?
I had been on top. Even more for me to somehow worry about being dominant, myself. He fondled my breasts, and as I was expecting my period, my nipples were extremely sensitive. So it hurt. He sucked my nipple and I said ouch! He twisted my nipples between his thumb and index finger, and I was in pain. In a good way.
When my thoughts reached this stage I suddenly remembered, that I’d been thinking he was doing it on purpose. That I was picturing in my mind that he was deliberately trying to hurt me. And he was keeping me on his cock, grinding against it slowly, when it was deep inside.
I was fragile and sad, because I could already sense my period was going to start. Not pregnant, again.
He liked it. He liked me like that. All fragile and slow. And I liked him the way he was. Making his dominance in such a small way. Holding me there, as a bridge over him, holding my breasts. Teasing me. Hurting me with such tiny effort.
It was so obvious it got me all doubtful. It was so normal I didn’t even see it. It was so good it was all I needed.