Some context – I’m active on an app where I tend to get messages from men looking for NSA sex. I received one that simply asked me if I liked to be tied up. I’d received the same before and simply deleted it, but this time my chronic health condition was beating down my body, I was in pain, and I was enraged at the thought of some random person wishing they could dominate me and cause my body more pain than it was already experiencing. I bit back. With a night of sleep under my belt, I was able to step back and realize that since this sparked such a strong negative reaction in me at first blush, more than likely there’s an element of something I want hidden in there that I need to tease out…. even though I’ve always placed a high premium on my own independence. Here’s my attempt at doing so with a strong element of fantasy built in given that I’m married to man who’s borderline asexual. FML.
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I’m so tired. I don’t clock out from my job, it follows me home or anywhere an inbox can be accessed. I don’t go home when I’ve completed my work or when 5pm appears, I go home when my brain is roiling fog and the nerves running through my limbs are sparking angrily at being asked to conform to a chair all day. Caleb had the day off today and I can’t wait to walk into our home.
I can smell that he’s preparing dinner when I enter the mudroom. He greets me, coming from the kitchen. He meets my eyes and holds them for a second. I look aside first, making perfunctory movements to shed my coat and shoes. When I glance up to his gaze again, he says, “Go clean up. This’ll be ready in about 30 minutes.” I nod, agreeing that I’ll feel better after a warm shower. My body softens under the warm spray, washing away the corporate stuffiness and letting me seep back into my pores.
At the table, a light plate is deposited in front of me followed by a soft command. “Eat”. Caleb stands behind me, his hand cupped possessively around the base of my neck. His thumb kneads the place where my neck and shoulders meet, easing another portion of tension away. As I nibble at the meal, I muse over the confusion our picture might present to those who know us. From the outside, we look so modern, perhaps even overly so. I have an advanced degree, an excellent job, and earn the majority of our income. I feel like a feminist wet dream; successful independence, an upending of the gender norms which flowed down through history. Within the walls of my home, however, all I want is to set the weight of those presumptions down and acquiesce to Caleb’s starkly masculine personality.
Dinner completed, Caleb gathers my body to his. I take a moment to revel in the physical change this always brings, a slow tingle through my limbs that speaks not of numbness and fatigue, but rather arousal. My eyes catch his again and I take in their changes, they’ve become more hooded, more intense. The moment telegraphs our mutual acknowledgement – my needs have been met. His have been waiting.
Once in the bedroom, I begin to shed my clothing when his hands cover mine. “Don’t. I’m undressing you tonight. Keep your hands at your sides unless I tell you to move them.” He moves methodically, divesting me of my shirt. I’ve not put on a bra, so he immediately palms my breasts, kneading them. Once he removes the rest of my clothing, I’m left standing naked in front of him. “Get on the bed on your back. Put your wrists against the corner post.” He produces a soft restraint from the nightstand, wrapping my wrists together and securing them so my arms are held over my head. My mind wavers out for a second as I gratefully remember the care he put into finding the soft material he uses, the time he spent practicing so we could enjoy this together without blinding me with pain.
He takes a moment to drink in the sight of my body resting across the bed, restrained and waiting for him. With a few quick movements, he’s unclothed and moves toward me. Placing his knees on either side of my chest, he plays with my breasts for a few moments before settling one hand against the headboard and gripping his erection with the other. “Suck me”, he breathes out as he guides his cock towards my mouth. Once inside, he leans his weight against the bed and begins moving his hips, methodically, carefully, while I caress him with my tongue. My fingers curl; I can’t touch him so I try to show him how deeply he arouses me with my mouth. I swirl my tongue around him as his thrusts move his cock back and forth over my lips. His breathing quickens and just as he begins to moan softly, he withdraws.
He moves down my body, stopping once at my face to kiss my swollen lips and once at my breasts to suck each nipple into his mouth as I begin to shift in anticipation against the bed. When his head dips below my waist, he locks his arms around my thighs, holding me open to him. I’m effectively restrained at both ends with my wrists securely tied and my legs gripped by a man who spends his spare time flinging heavy hay bales around. I should feel helpless, but the instant his tongue swipes against me, I can’t feel anything save what’s happening in our bed. He licks and lightly sucks at my clit before dipping a finger into me, pushing in and out. I’m moaning, my back beginning to arch against the bed. He gains intensity, eating me like I’m a dessert at a New York restaurant. I feel myself starting to slip; he catches it and reaches up to pinch my nipple. “Don’t you fucking come yet, not yet. I want that around my cock when you come”.
He moves me from my back to my stomach and rasps at me to put my ass in the air for him. I do, my breasts heavy against the sheets. I feel him position himself over me, feel him run his cock through my wet folds. He grabs my hips and I get ready for him to drive himself home. Instead, he folds himself over my back and drops a line of soft kisses down my spine. He knows. I need tenderness, to be reminded of the depth of our connection even when I can’t see the emotions playing out over his face. His cock drives into me. Neither of us will last long in this position, not when he’s using his dominant position over my body to assert his needs. I’m crying out now, urging him on between my own moans. His voice has dropped into something that might as well be a growl as he says, “Fuck yes, fuck me, fuck yes”. I know I’m close, a breathy “are you ready for me to come” falls out of my mouth. He bites out the words as he orders me to come for him, to spasm around his cock. I do, and when my walls start squeezing around his cock, he growls out a single “fuck” and empties himself into my body. With languid, sated movements, he reaches up to untie me, then carefully tucks my body into his. His chin rests against the top of my head and he briefly flexes it down to kiss my hair.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/88u97k/a_bit_of_romantic_dominance_first_time_mf_mc
That got me so wet, I almost had an orgasm reading it. Thank you for sharing.