BDSM, Coming out, Sex stories, Submissive tendencies, Wonderboy

It might be hard to believe but tonight I called him daddy. It’s obviously been a while since we fucked, even a longer while still when he tied me to the upper cupboards with rope and fucked me from behind after beating me. I was standing still on very, very high red heels. At least I was until my knees buckled. It didn’t take very long for him to come, and the experience that I’d been praying for for so long didn’t leave my mind after it was over, either.

Tonight was the night. I’d had a huge success at work which was in no way dimmed by the fact that it felt like I miscarried yesterday. Today I was more than fine, I was in epic condition. I’d like for someone to make some sort of a research on women going through miscarriages. I bet I’m not the only one who picks up right after, harder than ever, because it’s easier than to stay still. Everything is easier than staying still.

After Wonderboy had eaten I danced in to the bedroom, and quirkily poked my head into the living room where he was sitting. I just hummed and smiled to him and went to bed. He got the hint so quickly I didn’t have to say anything. He undressed at the foot of the bed, but didn’t lie down.

I have to go to the bathroom first, he said.

I heard the shower and I knew it was business time. 

We started with cuddling and kissing, caressing hair, cheeks, kissing the neck, the lips, the nose, the forehead. But it didn’t quite escalate. He pulled me on top of him, the thing he does when he’s feeling uncertain and vulnerable.

What you wanna do now? I asked.

What do you want to to do? he asked me back.

I paused to think. There were certain ideas flying in my head, teasing my skin already.

I want you to dominate me. I paused for a moment still, looking into his eyes. If you feel like it.

And he did. But of course he didn’t show it to me yet. Finally when he pulled me from my hair and held my nipple in a torturous pinch he said,

I’m going to dominate you now.

Yes.

He let his hand wander down my neck and the other down my throat. Suddenly I realized I was held captive and choked gently but firmly between his hands. I was all his to keep and to play with.

And I don’t care what you feel. I’m going to use you.

He did things to me then that made me move away in shock, but I couldn’t. He was holding me by the hair.

Lick my cock, you slut, he ordered, but I didn’t just lick it. I deepthroated it. He had to position me again on all fours to get his cock in more, deeper, and he did. I let the saliva and precum flow past my lips into his hairs on his cock and on the sheets.

That feels so good, so damn good, he murmured over and over again until he had to lift my head from the hair hastily so as not to come already.

He tossed me away rolling right on top of me seamlessly.

That was really hot, he said. I was really turned on by that, he said all the while sliding his slick cock against my pussy.

He pushed his cock inside. It hurt a bit and I said ouch, but he didn’t care. He kept pounding me, straight away with vigor. That was all I needed. I grinded my face against the spiky stubble of his cheeks. He voiced his pleasure. He hit me in the face a couple times more startling me than delivering pain.

Call me daddy, he said suddenly while holding my wrists.

I have never played into it like that. I have never given up on myself like that. But I did now.

Oh daddy, I love the way that feels like, my voice was cut in peaces because of his pounding. Then my voice was lost to lost and to emotions, then it came back again.

Daddy, please touch my tits, please daddy. Daddy please don’t, oh daddy, oh, oh, oh…

It felt so good to freely commit to it for once. To admit it turned us both on so much. There was finally no voyer inside me looking over my shoulder and analyzing what he was feeling. There were no fucks given to what if he’s secretly laughing at me. And he wasn’t. And we both came so loud and so intensely – not at the same time though – that it was very clear what we need. Just a little dominating. Just a little submission. Just a little play.

Just A Little Play With Daddy

Aside
BDSM, Coming out, Learning to negotiate, Top-Bottom Girl, What Women Really Want, Wonderboy

Learning To Say What I Want

I like it, when he almost gently tells me, how he’s going to use me. I love it, when he tells me, somewhat drugged by the pleasure, how good it feels when I deepthroat him. I love it when he treats me like a thing, a lovely cherished thing, but a thing of his.

There was the lovely cowgirl fuck with suffocating and trash talk on Friday. Double penetration and ass fucking with fingers and minds blown apart and away.

There was the second cowgirl fuck with hair pulling and suffocating on Saturday. It was followed by a cock and ball worship with him towering over me, and some face fucking to boost. After that the rampant doggie style sex feast that sent me to oblivion so many times I lost count – and my voice.

And then there was the forced deepthroating yesterday with trash talk finished up with a quick and hard fuck for him to just come. After he came he licked me and I coughed up the nerve to ask him, how would he punish me, if I came. He had spent the trash talking telling me, how I’m his and how he owns me and uses me as he wishes. The sentence that popped into my head over and over again was you own my orgasms. Even in the throas of passion I immediately thought but hey, that’s orgasm denial lingo! I’m not into that.

I couldn’t say it, but I danced around it asking what my punishment will be and why is that he controls my orgasms. When I started getting closer playing with my nipples, which also is a new thing I nowadays feel comfortable doing, he put his body weight on my thighs forcing them against my stomach and licking me with what seemed like a teasing manner.

It was wonderful. I couldn’t choose which time I loved the most, because after each I was totally spent, happy and fulfilled in a way I only am, when he truly dominates me.

After each act we somehow got more comfortable with each other. He spoke more, which  I always crave, but sometimes he just goes all mute, even when I ask him to speak to me. He told me how he owns me, called me a whore and a plaything and told me how he was going to use me. How I had no say. He’s so good at giving orders that I don’t even see them as such. I’m trying to model my behaviour after his and learn how to ask for things I desire. Like it’s self-evident that he will do it.

Seems that I usually do have these certain cravings but that I dismiss them as uncertain before I act on them. In these three instances I recognised my desires, tossed them around in my head ashamed and unwilling to voice them and then just made myself say some of them or even a part of them. I couldn’t say You own my orgasms, because it seemed so dramatic and pretentious, but I could say I’m not allowed to come, am I? How will you punish me, if I come? 

After I came, I told him which things I liked. I told him I loved when he held his hand on my neck when I was sucking him as he stood at the foot of the bed. The tension in his hand brought me arousal beyond belief. I didn’t know he could reach me like that.

I also told him that next time he can tease me even more, be more open about owning me and stop to ask, if I’m close and just emphasize how that is simply unacceptable.

Every day I pointed out to him, how happy we were after sex. I talked about the things he had done to me just to say them out loud. You strangled me… And I liked it. You fucked my ass with your fingers… And I liked it. And look, how happy we both are! I wanted to show him, how much has changed. He doesn’t have to be nervious about insulting me and me turning on him after the sex is done. I’m all there, communicating with him, choosing to start sucking his cock, choosing to pull my face from his and straddle him more upright than before.

I am so much more comfortable. I don’t feel scared at all. I know that whatever happens, I will have a wonderful time. That he will not let me down. I can be as happy with him licking me than with an orgasm from him pounding me with his cock and fingers back and front at the same time.

This makes me happy about the sex. Not expecting certain things, not accepting only certain things as sex. When I don’t let myself think what this means and does this make me a submissive and is this enough, but just say what I want and more importantly do what I want… Seems to be the key to being happy with my sex life. I used to be so strangled by my submissive role that I didn’t assert my desires and didn’t initiate almost anything. It’s not topping from the bottom, if I tell him what makes me crazy and what I desire. He will make the decisions about whether it’s something he can feel comfortable with. Just like the other way around.

Standard
BDSM, Craving for more, Fantasies, Passing Woman, Submissive tendencies

A True Way

I had my first real life fantasy the other night, and everything changed.

My period was supposed to start on thursday, but here we are, rolling in the unfathomable wetness and orgasmic ease. This morning when we started kissing, making funny faces and laughing about stupid little things like the line in Beavis and Butthead – the movie, Wonderboy suddenly started laughing.

Yeah, right, you’re supposed to be on your period, but you just had an orgasm yesterday by just deepthroating me. I was like what the fuck?

What happened was that I leaned over him to put away my laptop from the bed and, well, there it was. His cock. It was its small and silky self, not in the least bit curious about my nose which was inches away from it. I trailed it with my nose. Ah, the smell. I made a whimpering sound. Then tried it with my tongue. I sniffed, kissed and licked it until his eyes went half-mast and he coupled his both testies for me to swallow.

And then I deepthroated him. Not because he asked me to. Not because I thought he’d like it. Because I wanted to. He slipped his fingers in my lacey panties and I could hear the astonishment in his voice when he said you’re all wet. I kept in place for a minute, hardly breathing at all through my nostrils, feeling his cock pulse in my throat and against my cheeks and tongue. He fingered me in an awkward postition and I came pretty much straight away. He laughed, but stayed still, let me do the work, all the decisions. I engulfed him again and couldn’t breath once more. I stayed there, so full, so strangely suffocated from inside my throat. Wonderboy started to play with my butt, he pulled on my panties so they snuck right where the sun doesn’t shine and suddenly I felt my whole body constract from a massive orgasm. I had to let the cock go and just lay there, on his side, spasming.

He laughed, surprised and asked me did you just come? Yep, I answered.

Then he took the initative, probably because I was a laughing and withering mess, and he fucked me so hard it was like we met yesterday. The fucking was only interrupted by the constant hissing sounds of my come shooting out of me when he pulled his cock back a bit.

Wonderboy was still, to this morning, ever so sure I was ovulating. I could see why. I was wet, he could fuck me as hard as he liked and all it did was make me come more. Like it used to be when we met. But I felt different. Something had shifted. We even did an ovulation test we still have from trying to get pregnant (that I bought accidently instead of a pregnancy one). The thing is. The test said I was ovulating, too. And a few hours ago my period finally started, only tree days late. Doesn’t explain the test showing up positive, and definately doesn’t explain what’s been going on. But I have a hypothesis.

I’m betting this is all because of the fantasy I had a week ago, after we had sex, when I was pleasuring myself. It was the first one in which I was me and he was him, and I knew exactly what I wanted. I didn’t hold back because I thought I should be fantasizing about something else, or I should be in acertain role, or that there were, really, any limitations to what I’d do or who’d I be. I fantasized about Wonderboy sneaking under the covers, between my legs, and pleasuring me with his tongue all the while saying how I’m not allowed to come. He’d then start to fuck me, still saying the same thing. God your hot, you feel so good. I’m going to come, but you can’t. Remember, that you can’t come.

Oh. But I already did.

And when he’s been pleasuring me since, every day, many times a day, I’ve just asked him to hold my thighs down or push on my tummy. He likes to do that when we fuck, too, put his hands on my tummy and put all his weight on them. Ah, but I digress. He’s also pushed my feet up in the air or held them down on the bed like I was spread like an eagle, sometimes just holding them down really close together and licking or fucking me trough the tiny cap they leave.

Holy shit. Suddenly I’ve forgotten why it was so hard just a minute, a week ago. I feel whole. I am inside the pleasure.

Standard