I [30F] got my favorite redditor [37M] to drive across state lines so he would indulge my fetish for domination roleplay. And then I gave him lots of pussy and ass until he had to go home at the end of the weekend. [FM]

Well, you can call me a greedy, horny bitch, but I wasn’t truly satisfied, fam. I needed mooooorrrrrre! I had [targeted an erotica author](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/i3kixd/fm_this_weekend_i_30f_hooked_up_with_a_guy_37m_i/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf) who has writing that makes me cum reliably AND I got him to drive to me and fuck me in every major way over the course of a weekend. He was sweet, sensitive, literate, and he fucked as good with his dick as he did with those words. What more could I want?

I’LL TELL YOU!

I wanted what his previous lover got. Remember! I was first drawn to his stories about her because I felt like she was my twin. Just like her, I have a fetish for domination role play. I like when I have a trustworthy partner who I can surrender my autonomy to. I’m a feminist, but SOMETIMES I like a bit of misogynistic name calling when I’m getting fucked. As long as the dude understands it’s a game.

And don’t give me shit for that, fam. Somewhere out there a white supremacist is whacking off to the idea of his wife cheating with a black dude. It doesn’t mean he secretly wants a world where that shit happens, right? OF COURSE I’m fucking right! And if me being right bothers you then I invite you to get in the long line, the one that’s wrapped twice ?around? the fucking ?building? to kiss my ass. ?‍♀️

I told him last time that I felt comfortable enough with him that he basically has implied consent for whatever he wants to do to me and that I don’t want him to ask me for permission. Neither of us is into toilet stuff so I wasn’t worried he’d tie me up and piss on me. We know how to pause things if shit ain’t going good. My mind is way fucking darker than his, anyway.

Friday August 14 was here and my uterus had cooperated! Awesome! This is why Lolo can eat a fat stack of donkey dicks and Yazmin is my best friend! I still woulda had him come up anyway, but a whole weekend of getting fucked in the ass is a bit much, even for me.

I messaged him.

Me: “My pussy is still in commission! I feel fucking cold without you here. Will you come to me again? I’ll make you feel so fucking good if you can get up here.”

Him: “Let me just make sure my sister can be around for the cats….”

He took a while to respond. I knew what he was doing. He did that shit to his last girl. He likes to delay replying immediately because he knows how to build that sweeeeeet anticipation. ? MQ, you fucking idiot…. you told us alllll about that trick when you wrote about SquishySeahorse. I FUCKING STUDIED YOU BEFORE YOU EVER KNEW ME. ?‍♀️
But just because I was aware of what he was doing didn’t make it less effective. I was looking at my phone like: Pleeeeeease! ???

Him: “I’ve arranged everything, Andrea. And even if I wasn’t able to fuck you I would come to you, so don’t worry about your PCOS. I miss you a lot.”

Nah nah nah, fam. ?‍♀️

Me: “Bullshit. If you come here it better be because you’re going to bone me like you fucking OWN me.”

Him: “Don’t play with your pussy till I arrive. It’s mine. I’m coming.”

On the suggestion of one badass redditor, I told him that I would be waiting for him in lingerie. I refused to send a picture, but I told him I would be wearing it when he arrived. Some of you have begged for pics in my last story. [This is the only picture](https://imgur.com/a/9GNJAOx) I can ever send anyone without triggering some fucking problems related to some douchebags a few years ago passing around my nudes. I’ve also been upskirted. So please, be cool.

MQ arrived earlier than last time. I buzzed him up. I sat on my couch waiting for him in a short black lace nightie. He opened my door and looked at me. Again, there was that handsome face, lean body, and his observant, hazel eyes. [Go ahead and look. I convinced him to let me show him off.](https://imgur.com/a/fjiUB1n). I wanted him to come over to me and just take me on the couch but I was so happy to see him that I just was all like *SQUEE* and I went over to him and into those arms. It feels good being in a dude’s arms and how he just looks down at you? Like you’re beautiful as fuck? I led him by the hand into the bedroom and he just kept holding me and kissing me and getting me wet until I told him he had to fuck me. And he wanted to eat my pussy but I just told him to stop worrying about making me cum and just get inside me. I pulled him into my bed and he made love to me. And fuck, that was some really good sex. But that’s not the sex I feel like discussing in detail. YES it was tender, intimate and satisfying; and he was wonderful and held my face in his hands and looked into my eyes and whispered and YEEEESSSSSSS I won’t deny that’s awesome but the contest this month is about fetishes so let’s focus on SATURDAY.

It was fucking good. I had him in his suit, which I had cleaned so it was cumstain-free, and the game was that he would be a perverted therapist who was going to misuse his power on me, the naughty little rehab client. I portrayed myself as a party girl who lived only for booze, coke and dick. Red lipstick and black mascara. He was in the process of manipulating me and seducing me and my panties were getting soaked under his scrutiny and questioning. And then he got a fucked up look on his face.

“Sorry, babe. No, I cant do this one. It’s squicking me out too much.”

“Is it because I’m playing a 20 year old?”

“No, you’re reminding me of a client who had all kinds of childhood trauma. Most of my female clients have been exploited or abused somehow, and….”

Shit! I was still fucking horny as hell and I knew if he kept talking he would put himself out of the mood and it would just be cuddle time. F that S. I wanted him mean and dirty today.

“I’ll be the therapist, then!” I said.

“How reluctant should I be?”

“No. You still have to dominate me. I don’t know shit about being an addiction counsellor, so you have to just make it work. Blackmail me or seduce me somehow.”

He was all smiley and nodding. We figured out the basics. He’d be 37 and I’d be 24 year old counsellor all inexperienced and new to the job. He’d make everything flow. I rushed off to my bedroom to get changed into some business formal attire. It was a skirt suit that I barely ever get to wear, with a little jacket and a skirt with a hem that ended a few inches above the knee. I have 36D titties and I fleeked them with a push-up bra and left my blouse half-buttoned so they would look perfect for titty-fucking, since we hadn’t done that yet. I put my hair in a messy bun and wore glasses. As I was dressing I felt myself getting hornier as I pictured myself succumbing to a handsome man and breaking the rules.

When I came out he was already transformed. He never acts over the top, but he had a predatory look in his eyes. And he checked out my tits, of course. My titties were so fleeked the fuck out even a gay dude would have at least looked at them.

(Full disclosure, I had to get MQ to edit this next section, since it sounded super shitty before he fixed up the details and gaps)

I sat down and was basically like “Tell me about your problems,” but he just waved that off and described the kind of therapy he was looking for.
He said “anti-oppressive”, “client-centered”, and “client self-determination” A LOT, fam.

“And is that the kind of counsellor I’m signing up to deal with here, miss Andrea?”

“Yes!”

We both mimed signing a contract.

He was magnificent. I sat there trying to be a counsellor and he slowly paced the room as he spoke. He answered me in a sort of chilled-out apathy or in a way that seemed like I was missing out on some private joke. He would pick up my knickknacks or pause to read a title on my bookshelf before piercing me with those eyes. Sometimes he would get too close to my “desk” and I’d tell him to please sit down.

“I need you to tell me about your sex life, MQ.”

“You will address me as Mister Quick, Miss Andrea. I would prefer that we keep some formality to this treatment.”

“Fine. Now please answer my question.”

“My sex life is nonexistent at the moment, I’m afraid.”

“Probably because you drink too much. I’ll bet you’ve got a bad case of the whiskey dick.”

“You’d be wrong. But the lack of sex is probably a big reason I’m relapsing so much. As a counsellor I’m sure you’re aware that without the proper amount of dopamine people tend to relapse into old patterns.”

I didn’t know anything about that shit. But I was totally into misusing my authority.

“Listen, Mister Quick. I think I’m going to need to judge for myself if there are any physiological problems with your penis. If I can feel how hard it is then I’ll also be able to judge if you’ve been lying to me about how severe your drinking is.”

He turned away from my bookshelf and squinted at me like he was trying to outsmart me. I did my best to look like a horny librarian. Breathing just a bit deeper so my boobs would go a little bit up and down.

“I suppose that’s fair. But if your assessment is going to be accurate I think it only makes sense for my cock to actually be hard. Will you be facilitating that?”

“I will allow you to touch me or look at my body for thirty seconds, Mister Quick. I believe that should be adequate for this assessment.”

He usually can’t keep his hands off my ass but these titties were all he cared about right then. I sat there looking up at him just breathing in and out. I hoped like hell my glasses made me look sexier. He reached down into the cleavage of my smooshed together tits and just started gently groping and squeezing them. He slipped both hands into my bra. Watching and feeling his hand work was a fucking turn on. The exploration he was making was like if he was blind and there was Braille all over my nipples and areolas. His fingertips were heaven.

“That’s been thirty seconds, Mister Quick.” My voice was all trembly when I said that! And then I said: “Now present your cock immediately for my assessment.”

His pants were bulging but he took his time pulling it out. When he finally presented it I grabbed it and stroked it, biting my lip in anticipation. I looked up at him and got ready to be the counsellor who sucked her client’s dick when he took my hand off of it and put it away. I gave him a look like “Come on, dude!”

“Was that hard enough for you Miss Andrea?”

“No. Whip it out again.”

Instead he ignored me and took my hair out of its bun and ran his hand through it. I peered at him over the top of my glasses and waited for him to open his pants again.

“Sorry Miss Andrea. For the next thirty minutes it’s you who will be doing what I say. We have a contract and I’ve already paid you. I’d like you to join me on the couch.”

“I didn’t sign a contract saying I’d be your whore.”

“The contract said, among other things, that your practice holds client-self determination as the basis of treatment.”

“Fuck that, dude. I’m in charge here!”

He looked seriously offended by that. It’s like his eyes went black.

“Oh, so you DON’T actually believe in anti-oppressive practice. You’re trying to replicate the same patterns that have always perpetuated inequality in clinical treatment. How *dare* you! I’ll be reporting you to your board. Get ready for a disciplinary committee!”

He harped on that for a while. I think he LOVED saying disciplinary committee.?

“No wait, I’ll lose my job! Please! I don’t want to face those fucks on the committee!”

“Well you’ve breached ethics. You need to be punished somehow. Would you prefer that I punish you instead?”

I pretended to cry and begged him to have mercy on me.

“Miss Andrea, here is what’s going to happen. I need help with relapse prevention, and I’m going to use your sweet little ass in a very therapeutic way.”

“Oh no…..” I said, scared.

He strolled around the room with his hands in his pockets.

“Why would I need drugs or alcohol when I’ve got a pretty thing like you I can get my dopamine rush from? So, starting today, I will be seeing you whenever I want and you will be giving me some treatment that is very client-directed. Is that clear?”

I faced away from him and nodded.

“Tell me it’s fair, and tell me that I’m a fair man.”

“It’s fair. You’ve been more than fair to me, Mister Quick.”

“Tell me what I can do to you if I’m tempted to relapse,” he asked, stroking my hair.

“You can use my body for your pleasure.”

“And how often?”

“Whenever you need it.”

“What a good answer. I don’t know why I was so reluctant to start my recovery journey! Now stand up,” he ordered.

I stood and removed my glasses.

“Did I tell you to remove those?”

“No, Mister Quick” I said, as I began putting them back on.

“Excuse me, did I tell you to put them back on?” He asked, going all squinty.

“No, sir. You didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Good girl. Now put them back on.”

I did. He knew how to act like an asshole when we role played via sext, but seeing him do it up close getting me hot. I was losing myself in it.

“Show me those nice, big tits, Miss Andrea.”

That’s the first thing he made me do. Then he made me play with them. Then he made me lift my skirt so he could see my panties from the front. Then he made me bend over and show him how I looked from the back. Then he took my panties off and made me do it all again. He wanted to boss me around and look at me. It make me wet to see how much he loved what he saw and making me pose.

Then I had to sit in my chair with my skirt bunched up at the waist and spread my legs for him. My tits were naked and spilling out of my blouse and I was loving the fact that his eyes were all over the place trying to look at everything at once. He made me play with my pussy and said I could only think about him while I rubbed up and down. He told me I had to tell him what I was picturing as I did it.

“I’m picturing you forcing me to suck your dick.” I told him honestly. “I’m picturing you fucking my mouth like I’m a trashy little whore.”

He came over and stood next to my chair. He was so fucking horned up but he tried to hide it. He began fingering my soaked cunt and told me to let him suck on the fingers I had rubbed myself with. Then he made me suck on his fingers after he pulled them out. All the while I begged him to stop, but I made a tapping signal (two quick taps) on the table that was our way of reassuring him that I was fucking loving it.

“Get on the couch and get on all fours for me.”

“No!”

He grabbed my arm and marched me over to the couch. He shoved me down onto it. (Two quick taps on the leather from me!) He dashed off and came back with my vibrator and put it on the coffee table.

“On all fours. Now.”

I obeyed him and looked over my shoulder like I was totally humiliated. He was INTO it.

“Tell me you’re a bad therapist.”

“I’m a BAD fucking therapist, Mister Quick.” I said.

He smacked my ass once. He squeezed it. Fuck, that felt good.

“Tell me what’s going to happen to this nice pussy in a few minutes.”

“It’s going to get fucked by your cock until you cum inside it.”

He gave me another good smack and then he squeezed again. I was so fucking ready for that cock. I didn’t dare say it, though. I was already getting punished enough. I used the fist pound signal one time to get him to ease up on the spanking just a bit. I leaned into his hand as he squeezed my ass. After a few more lighter spankings he got the vibrator and began fucking me with it. He groped my dangling tits as I let him slide my toy in and out of me. It wasn’t good at first but VERY soon he figured out what he was doing wrong and I was moaning like a bitch in heat. He fingered my nipples and that vibe felt so fucking good that it didn’t take all day, fam. I didn’t scream but GOD my face probably looked ugly as fuck because its sort of painful to not be able to just fucking yell about how hard I was cumming against my toy. He let me enjoy the orgasm and just moved his hands all over my ass.

“This is the only part of my therapy I will allow you to direct, Miss Andrea. I can either satisfy myself inside your wet little pussy while you tell me just what a little whore you are. Or, I can fuck your pretty face and I will do the talking, since your mouth will be occupied.”

Fam. Do you even need to ASK what I chose? Moments later I was on my knees in front of him in that fucking suit yanking his cock out of his pants. He wasn’t using his cock to fuck my face. I was fucking that cock with my whole head. He called me a fucking whore, a dirty bitch, a nasty cumslut, all while I just *chugged* on that dick. I was tap tapping the coffee table with one hand to encourage his words. Whenever he’d ask me if I liked getting my pretty face fucked or was I looking forward to drinking a hot load of sperm I’d always whine my “yesses” and “uh-huhs” like a slutty porn star. If my head needed a break I would lick him from balls to tip and act all pouty like I hated being degraded like this. He told me that if I didn’t suck his cock good he would call in all the clients in the waiting room and I’d have to give them group therapy.

“How would we do *that?* Mister Quick?” I asked him before spitting on his cock and going back to pretending I was a woodpecker.

Hahahahahah I was nailing that blowjob, fam. He tried to describe how one of them would fuck me in the ass and the other one jack off on my tits but guys his brain was so fucked at that point he kept forgetting his words. It was like trying to have a conversation with a dude who’s concentrating on a video game. (I used to fucking annoy the SHIT out of one gamer ex boyfriend like that! ?)

He popped his dick out of my mouth and held my hair in one fist and aimed his dick with the other, furiously jacking off.

Him: *fapfapfapfapfapfap*

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum on your counsellor’s pretty face? Yeah?” I whined.

Him: *FAPFAPFAPFAPFAP!*

“Yeah? You gonna punish your slutty therapist? You gonna make her you lil cumslut? *YEAH?!?*

And kaBOOM! He jizzed at hiiiiiiiiiiiiigh pressure all over my glasses and lips and mouth. I CAN FUCKING TELL YOU LIKED THAT ONE, MQ! He ordered me to clean his dick but I wanted to see my face so I fist-pounded the table three times to let him know the game was over and he’d let go of my hair. I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror and looked at my face dripping with his cum.

I didn’t know this would end with a facial but I should have told him in advance that sometimes I DO like to see how I look after I get blasted with a good cumshot because he thought he had hurt me or fucked up and missed a signal. I cleaned my face off quickly and went to his arms to reassure him that everything went awesome. ?

That was just ONE thing we did all weekend. I’ll do what I did last time and just give you the highlights:

He did my morning tea for me in the exact way I like it! He learned by watching me! The motherfucker is always watching even when he doesn’t seem like he is.

I tried to get him to dance with me to some EDM but the poor boy doesn’t know how. He couldn’t be taught, either! I DID get him to slow dance with me, though, and that was very sweet.

Without disrespecting any of the information you people have shared in private conversations with us as separate individuals, we discussed how much we fucking love all of you guys. ❤️ if you’ve spoken to either of us, we’ve prolly discussed you in some very general way.

He read to me in the shower again! Both times they were angry, funny essays by Harlan Ellison. The first one was called “Fuck Xmas!” and another one was “I Fantasize About Using an AK-47 on Teenagers”. Both were hilarious as fuck. BTW showers are our time for giving our genitals a break and just connecting with each other.

I put on a sexy playlist and we made out to it. Then we fooled around. And then he undressed me from the waist down and we fucked slowly on my couch. He had to stop fucking me so he could turn the volume down to a more quiet level. He said he couldn’t concentrate on the sex even though the music was ABOUT sex. ?‍♀️

No avoiding it…. we had to have some Real Tawk. I told him I think circumstances are against us and we won’t work as a couple long term, so we shouldn’t make any claims on each other. I told him that it would be a kindness it he would NOT say “I love you” unless I have already said it to him first. ?‍♀️

More Real Tawk….. we agreed that we would not involve any of you people in our drama or beefs, and that any disputes between us would stay private.

I read to him from The Onion and whenever he laughed I felt good because it made me feel like it I was the one being funny. ?‍♀️

He asked me about situations at work that I didn’t even remember talking about the first time he was here!

We got a sushi platter and drank lots of cheap wine!

We talked for hours.

We never quite made that tittyfuck happen! He can’t resist pussy.

I cooked French toast in the morning and we just laughed about shit that honestly doesn’t even seem that funny now that I think about it. I think we were just happy to be around each other. After breakfast he brought me back to bed and we fucked and then he held me and we fell asleep all over again.

We went for a walk and held hands like last time. I wore a buttplug the whole time and when we were at the farthest point away I told him about it and said he could fuck me in the ass when we got home. And he took me up on that offer and it was slow and fun and gentle. And he didn’t try to rush me home, even though he was horny.

As he was leaving on Sunday we had a bit more real talk and I just wanted him to make sure he wasn’t feeling used. He kissed me all over my face and reassured me he did not. He said a lot of sweet things to convince me that we were both on the same page.

Maybe in a few weeks I’ll have another of these things if you want. Writing this time consuming bullshit really took the edge off how much I fucking miss the dude holding me in his arms. Oh, fuck, MQ. You want to come back in two weeks, or should we hold off and have a Labor Day fuck-fest? Maybe both?

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ibq08p/i_30f_got_my_favorite_redditor_37m_to_drive