Male dominant, female submissive

As it so often happens, my hands work their way under your shirt as we start to kiss. For this, I make no apologies, though I remain fascinated as to how I’m, simply, drawn to touch you. One second, my hands are under your shirt, the next, your shirt is on the floor. Your bra is unclasped. My lips are on your left nipple. It grows hard.

I move my kiss to your shoulder and you brush your hair aside to give me greater access to the back of your neck. I kiss. I nibble. I gather your hands in mine. I push you onto the bed, face-down. I straddle your hips.

Holding your hands to the bed, I kiss the nape of your neck, before allowing my fingers to trace up your arms, to your shoulders, where they start to knead your muscles. Before long, my thumbs are situated along your spine, and I’m finding, massaging knots as I work my way down your lumbar column. I stop, often, to kiss each vertebrae I pass.

Time passes, and my hands find themselves at the line between your back and your ass, their massaging hampered by the fact you’re wearing pants. I kiss your tailbone. I exhale warm breath. My hands work their way up your back, my fingertips barely making contact with your skin, until they’ve made their way to your shoulders, then up your arms to your hands. My fingers intertwine with yours. I lick my way up your spine, stopping, once again, at the nape of your neck. I let my weight fall upon you, pressing my body into yours, as I kiss and nibble and, simply, enjoy your body pressing against my own.

I sit up, once more straddling your hips, and reach around to your belly. Deftly, I unfasten your fly, and then I pull your pants and panties down in one swift motion. The scent of sex engulfs the room.

Again, I straddle your hips.

Again, my hands work, massaging your shoulders.

Again, as my hands work their way down your body, I stop to kiss strategic points along your spine.

I position my body between your legs.

My hands reach that line between your back and your ass once again, soon followed by my mouth. My right hand reaches between your legs – and you’re only too eager to allow me access to your dripping sex. My mouth, again, exhales warm breath along the absolute base of your spine. My left hand traces up your back to the back of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair.

I continue slow breathing against the base of your spine, slowing pulling harder & harder against your hair, as my thumb enters your vagina and three fingers encircle your clitoris.

“I want you to cum,” I growl, breaking the regular breathing against the base of your spine.

You comply, shuddering your body against my hand.

Once again, I lick my way up your spine.

My hand leaves your sex, trailing up between your ass cheeks, toying with *that* entrance. “Turn over,” I whisper, my lips working their way to your left ear, my hand withdrawing from your body, as if making a promise for some fun later.

You comply.

And for the first time since the encounter began, I break all contact with you. I reach under the bed and pull out a harness — two loops with a cushioned pad between them. I place one loop around your right thigh, string the contraption behind your neck, and work the last loop around your left though.

I pull the straps tight — your legs open, your knees press against your breasts. I grab your upper thighs and pull you toward the bottom of the bed, your shoulders lying flat against the mattress.

“Look at me,” I whisper, as my hands work their way to your sex. With my fingertips, I massage – alternating between circular and random patterns against your clit. “I want to see you cum,” I say, truly enjoying the way your body reacts to my touch.

You close your eyes as you orgasm.

I spank your pussy. “I told you, I want to see you cum,” I say before, once again, breaking contact with you. This time, I reach under the bed to pull out a set of handcuffs and fasten your hands together and place them on the bed’s pillow.

“Look at me,” I whisper, positioning myself between your thighs and grabbing each of your breasts in one of my hands. “Look at me,” I repeat, as I squeeze.

Listening to you moan, seeing you try not to cry, feeling you grow even wetter, sensing your desire, and knowing you want more, I grow harder than I’ve been in years.

You cry out.

I break contact with your tits.

I step back and throw my clothes into a heap on the floor.

One hand goes to my cock and I guide it into your pussy.

You thrust at my hips with your own. I let you ride me.

I, again, grasp your breasts in my hand. You stare at me before crying out, in a combination of pain and ecstasy. You do not close your eyes as you orgasm.

I unleash a primal growl before pressing my hips against you, thrusting as deep as I can. I cum.

I slump against you, pressing my weight against you.

You press yourself against my weight, willing for unlimited contact, until my own sex grows limp and slides out of you.

You sigh.

I unfasten the cuffs, then your legs, letting my fingers work their ways from your knees to your pussy, as I unbuckle each thigh.

I plant a series of quick kisses along your jawline.

My right hand works its way to your vagina. “I haven’t properly gotten to use my mouth just yet,” I say, a sparkle in the wink I give as I say it. “Let’s grab a bite to eat before I see just how often I can make you moan.