Not the typical GW story, but I need to get this out [FM] (long) (Part 1)

So this doesn’t exactly feel like the right place for this kind of story, but it’s the closest I can come up with. I need to get this all down and off my chest. I tried to go full slut and just give the juicy scandalous details. It felt too insincere. Yes, even to total anonymous strangers.

I want to give some background. I’ll do the whole all caps “this is the sex part” down below. So. I’ve never been a girlfriend. I’ve never felt like I’m the girlfriend type. That used to be in an ugly duckling syndrome way. I was a late bloomer. Now I can do quite alright for myself if I want to. I get told I look like an actress that is generally deemed attractive by society. It is mortifying every time. Outside of that, I’m quite confident and self assured. Career woman! Etc. Currently I’m not the girlfriend type, because beyond being career minded, I’m that fun broken girl trope. Refreshing! I shun away feelings (well feelings that aren’t rage! Boldness! I’m your standard fiery girl, down to the red hair. I warned you – trope. I am not a manic pixie dream girl. But. I wouldn’t exactly say I’m original in my issues, either.) You’ll never guess what happened next! I fell in love with a man that does more for me than I ever thought possible. I’m still not a girlfriend, but in his arms, I am happy. This is the story about seeing him right before I took a trip halfway across the world. My first time traveling since telling him I’m in love.

**THIS IS THE SEX PART (kind of)**

I’m going to be honest. I’m probably fucking up the exact order of events over the course of the two days leading up to when I was going to be halfway around the world from this man. It’s because with him, time ceases to make sense. It’s not linear anymore. It’s a flat circle.

So let’s say I flew out on Saturday. This would be Thursday. I worked from home. Specifically to spend some time with him on his day off. He came over while I was still working. I still made a point to dress up for him. I like putting together outfits unfit for public consumption for him. I put on lingerie that he helped me pick out to purchase. These had a nice combination of being crotchless (new for me, and hotter than I would’ve thought), and having a choker/harness quality to them. Perfect. He likes seeing something around my neck. I wore a top that is a bit of an intimate joke between the two of us. Yeah I know, I disgust myself too, don’t worry. And then, naturally, a pastel pink pleated mini skirt that hardly covers my ass. Oh, right. And a plug to fill my ass, so it would be ready for him. Typical workwear attire.

I was finishing up work in my bed when he arrived. I let him in, and told him I’d finish soon as I can. He sat in my chair across from my bed. Quiet. Very quiet, as to not distract. I kept stealing glimpses of him. Becoming extremely aware of how I might look while I work. That I talk to myself a little bit while I’m analyzing reports. That I should probably have better, more flattering posture. We will fast forward to when he is in my bed, while I just made sure nobody had any questions about the analysis I submitted to our local and global teams. We put on a show in the meantime. He rubbed my shoulders (sweet, but not as sweet as it seems. More to come on that). I’m glancing at my emails until the clock strikes day-is-done-o’clock. I felt happy. I had not even started to pack for this trip. But I was with my favorite person. Stress was for later. I officially close my laptop. And this is when it becomes clear he has a specific plan for me.

**OK THIS IS THE FOR REAL SEX PART (ok some foreplay of sorts to start)**

Along with being a complicated aggressive gurl trope, I naturally am deeply submissive in bed. Lol. Of course. That’s actually how I found him. Or how he found me. Another story for another day. Once the laptop is closed, the rope comes out. He tells me he wants to try something new on me. I am already giddy. I’m putty in his hands. And a sopping mess between my legs. I’m his sub. Not his first. But he’s my first Dom. My first of anything with this kind of dynamic. Ah, so the shoulder rubs was him testing if I was going to be up for this bind. He’s sweet, but intentional. I like that about him. He’s doing his work. Weaving and tying. I can’t look him in the eyes when he does this. Not because he doesn’t allow it. I’m too overwhelmed. Consumed. I feel myself dripping down my leg. He finishes his knots. My arms are bound behind my back. His design looks like a lattice of dragonfly wings. It’s beautiful. It’s constricting. It’s time for photos. So. I send sexy photos. But men don’t take sexy photos of me. Personal rule. I’m a control freak, outside of handing over total control. I don’t claim to make sense. Well. Today. He’s taking pictures of me. Identifiable pictures. I trust him entirely. I want to see how he sees me. I want him to have reminders of me. I want him. He tells me how to position myself. I do as I’m told. Things get fuzzy. Is this when I get on my knees? Or did that already happen? Yes. I think it did. Before he tied me, he had me on my knees and gagging. Right? I love how he fucks my mouth. Well, the ways he does. This time it started out a bit slower. I took my time. And then he took his. Sometimes we play this unspoken game. He lets me go to work on him. Lick, gag, drool. Then, when he’s satisfied with my efforts, he takes over. He gives me a firm grab of my hair. A yank. A gear shift. And then he sets his pace. He takes control. He fucks my mouth. He fucks my throat. He makes me into something useful. I didn’t realize how much I needed to feel useful. So. Am I tied? Or then he ties me? A blur. He fucks my throat, though, certainly.

Then, while tied. And he’s satisfied with his photos. He has me bent over my bed. He lifts my skirt. He notices the plug. He notices the crotchless lingerie. He is pleased with these surprises. I have done well. He enters me from behind. He uses his handiwork as a handle, a grip. He holds onto it for leverage as he pounds me. I’m so fucking wet. He feels amazing inside me, and being bound, completely in his hands, it’s too much. I apparently cum all over him. This is not something I do. It’s a whole thing. Again. Story for another day. Well. Now it’s time to fuck my ass. It doesn’t take too long for him to claim all three of my holes. He pulls the plug out of my ass and pretty swiftly plunges into me, grabbing my hips, and really fucking me. I’m certainly not coherent at this point. If he’s saying things, I can’t recollect my response. I just know I’m consumed, I’m overwhelmed and I’m fulfilled. He starts to notice my arms turning a shade in the direction of purple (he points this out to me later when he’s sent me the pictures and we are texting, after he has left my apartment. He points out how the shade of my arms is noticeably different than my ass. So attentive.), and quite quickly unties me. Safety first.

We continue in other positions as we both have made it onto my bed again. When I’m on top of him I interchange between burying my head into the space between is neck and shoulder. He grips my lower hips. I’m grinding into him, as he moves into a rhythm pumping into me. Slapslapslap. I move to kiss him. Before him I was averse to kisses. Even now, his are the only ones I’ve ever craved. I grab his face. He grabs my waist. I separate from his lips so I can focus on moving up and down his cock. I open my eyes. He’s looking right at me. I look right into his eyes. My focus is broken. Now I can only think about the warmth in his eyes. He has no idea what his eyes do to me. He playfully spanks me. We are unfortunately in a no bruising zone. This trip I’m headed on puts me in a position where others would see his marks. A no-go. Unfortunate. I love his reminders. I love sending him updates on their progress. How the colors change. How for the first day I can still feel heat radiate off of them. The tenderness I feel from a gentle graze. More stories for other days. This all continues for some time. The pace changes. As does the rhythm. Until I get my reward. His cum. He knows I love how it feels when he fills me. I stay there for a moment, on top of him. Not quite yet letting him slip out from inside me. My head is on his chest. Bliss.

We aren’t done. I still have a couple more hours. (He has to go home at some point, walk the dog.) He still needs to cum a couple more times. What’s next is a slew of positions. Did it start with my mouth around his cock? With me rolling back on top of him, where he slides in perfectly and with ease because I’m so wet? I can’t quite recall. It’s a combination of these things. Several hours of sex can be a blur. I am giving the Nat Geo all-too-realistic rendition of such things, down to the spotty memory. What I do recall, is when he does this thing. He gets a glint in his eyes. And that’s when I know he has an idea. It tends to involve picking me up and flipping me into a new position, non-verbalized. I love it. I like to be his ragdoll. His fucktoy. He knows this. This time he makes a swift motion, a slight squeak from me and suddenly I’m underneath him, my legs are on his shoulders. Where are my arms? Is he holding them together? That sounds right? No. Because then I remember a hand around my neck, so that can’t be it. He’s looking at me. He’s searching. Assessing. How’s my breathing? Are my legs ok? Wordlessly. Ensuring my safety as he contorts me, controls me, makes me his. He quickens his pace, then slows. I’m lifting my hips up into him. Desperate for him. I’m sure he notices this. He seems to not miss much of anything. More kissing. More fucking. Definitely sweating. My foot cramps (mm sexy). He stops. He checks on me, with words this time.

Once I’m ok, he takes this pause as his opportunity to strike. He pulls out the demon machine. This demon machine is more commonly known as a hitachi magic wand. He loves to make me uncomfortable. Watch me writhe and squirm and uselessly try to get away from his grips. Words can’t properly describe how completely overwhelming this thing feels. I can only communicate in gibberish when it is in use. But, I’m a masochist. And I aim to please. I need him to be satisfied with my ability to take things from him. And taking overwhelming physical sensations, painful and otherwise, turns me on like no other. Spanking (the painful kind) is off the menu this go-around, so this becomes the next best torture. He has it going while he works his fingers inside me. Sometimes he has me hold it onto myself. Self-induced torture. Now he’s controlling it. He’s taken his fingers out to better hold me down, as I’m squirming away, now halfway hanging off the bed. He takes joy in this struggle. It’s clear how easily he can physically overpower me. I don’t stand a chance. I attempt to escape . It’s futile. I’m overwhelmed. I say as much. I beg for him to slow down. He doesn’t. I keep going. Eventually he lets up. I have no idea how much time has passed. I’m sweating. I’m almost crying. (I have cried before. Another story. Another day.) He lets up. He holds me. He swoops me into his arms, cradled me and he squeezes me. Tight. He tells me I did well. I look up at him. Looking up into his eyes has unexpectedly turned into one of my favorite things. As in, at all. Like. Comparable to, I don’t know, perfectly cooked bacon. But, you know, perfectly cooked bacon that makes you rethink life’s possibilities.

We rest and cuddle a bit. It’s completely possible we fuck again. It’s likely we did. He puts my mind into the type of frenzy that I can’t clearly distinguish the beginning and the end. But I have moments. Crisp clear moments with him. I like to close my eyes and relive them when I’m not with him. Secretly, I do it when I am with him. He asks me what I’m thinking about. Sometimes I say, him, this. Sometimes I say, oh nothing.

Formatting is bad. On mobile. Will attempt to fix.
There’s a Part 2. Just breaking up the two days because this became entirely too long.
[Here it is](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fbew7m/not_the_typical_gw_story_but_i_need_to_get_this/)

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fbe7v2/not_the_typical_gw_story_but_i_need_to_get_this