Breaking the Boy [M/F] [D/S]

I’ve had sex many times. It’s okay. Just okay. It’s McDonalds when you’re hungry.

But it isn’t what I wanted. I’ve never felt able to share with those men what I really wanted to do to them. I’m ashamed. Sounds funny, doesn’t it, in 2021.

But it’s hard, when you’re brought up to be the perfect little lady. When you’re taught men open doors and you say “thank you”, to admit you’re…not vanilla. When I’m home on my own I get out my lube and my Lelo vibrator. I lie back and rub it against my pussy and let myself dream of a man who’ll let me do what I like to him. A man who’ll kneel to me. A man I can command to please me the way I want. I pulse it against my clit and I come faster and harder than I ever have in bed with one of the boring dudes I’ve dated.

I don’t look the part, I know. I look like your average basic bitch. 22, 5’ 6’’, waist-length red hair, blue eyes, skin as pale as cream. Outsize breasts, small waist; one of my exes called me Jessica Rabbit in tight jeans. I’m bubbly, I giggle, I wear crop tops and work at Forever 21 in the mall and drink my pumpkin spice latte. Like a good girl.

I went to college and got on the cheer squad. I watch romcoms with the girls, and wonder if Meg Ryan ever dreams of tying Tom Hanks down and fucking him with a strap-on till he begs for mercy, and then I pretend I didn’t think that. I nod and agree when my friends talk about how hot dominant men are.

I sometimes wonder about dying my hair black and getting some tattoos, just so I look more like who I am inside. Just to get an in, signal to the kind of men I want to meet. But I thought about my girlfriends and my Mum and I knew I couldn’t. It’s just…that woman isn’t who I want to be. I can’t be that person. I’m not that person. I don’t want anybody to know. No-one can ever know.

Switch it off, push it down. I just have to try harder. I can be normal.

So I go to work and I come home and I masturbate and I dream of submissives and I date vanilla men whose idea of sex is holding me down, sticking their dick in me and going as hard as they can.

I don’t mean any harm. I’m just trying to fit in. I hate myself, but then, I guess, so does everyone. It’s a life. Sort of.

Alex has changed all of that. He changed it all in five minutes.

I vividly remember the first time I saw him. It was his first week on the job; security guard. I saw him talking to one of the other guards and I ran out of the shop without thinking, the pull was that strong. I had to cover myself by pretending I saw a bee. I’m not scared of bees, but everyone assumes I would be. I look like the kind of girl who makes a fuss about bees.

I knew the guy he was with, Brent. Brent is middle-aged, with a paunch and always has two days’ worth of stubble. He smells bad. He runs his eyes all over me, just the same way he’d like to run his hands. Ah, Brent, if you knew who I really was, you’d run.

“Abby!” Brent says. “A bee, huh? I’d have saved you.”

“It was a big one,” I say, and blush. Brent turns to the man next to him, the man I am trying not to look at. “Alex, this is Abby. She provides the decoration around here. Just ask her if you need a bikini.” His eyes flick down, checking where the hem of my floral dress is.

Fuck you, Brent. Except I wouldn’t.

Alex doesn’t laugh at Brent’s joke. Doesn’t even crack a smile. “Nice to meet y’all,” he says. He has a southern accent. Texas? Louisiana, maybe? Never found that sexy before, but I damn well do now.

He’s the same age as Brent, somewhere in his 40s. That’s where the resemblance ends. He’s tall, six feet something, with cropped blond hair. He’s well-muscled, but lean; it’s working muscle, not poser gym gains. He has a long, flexible mouth and direct, disconcerting pale blue eyes. He looks relaxed but alert. He’s tanned. Weathered, even. There are crow’s feet round those stunning eyes.

“Alex is new,” Brent says, unnecessarily. I know Alex is new. If I had ever seen him before there is no question I would have remembered. “Just got out of the Army,” he adds. That explains the tan; overseas service. Also explains that maddening air of….control. He’s standing there like he’s in charge. Like he knows what’s going on. Like nothing could surprise him. God, I want to break that so much.

I want to say something, something cool and impressive, but when I meet Alex’s pale, calm, assessing eyes everything I could say goes completely out of my head. I can feel my nipples hardening. I can feel the wetness at the top of my thighs. I break Alex’s gaze, look to my right. Brent is staring at the nipples poking the thin fabric of my dress and smirking.

“Gotta go,” I say, and run back into the store. “Abby?” calls my coworker Jenna as I run into the shop and up the stairs. “Abby!”

“Not feeling well,” I shout back. I lock myself in a stall in the staff bathroom. My hands are shaking as I lift the tiered skirt of the floral dress. I pull down my underwear and step out of it, leaving my purple lace pants on the dirty tiles of the bathroom floor. I put the toilet lid down and sit on it, with my legs spread as wide as I can get them.

I slide my fingers into my soaking pussy for lube, and then move them up to my swollen, straining clit. It’s rock hard, and touching it’s such a relief that I can’t help moaning a little as I rub it, fast and hard with my index finger. I wonder briefly if there is anyone else in the bathroom, and then I decide I don’t care as I pull my left breast out of the neckline of the dress and use my other hand to tweak my hard nipple. I’m so turned on that it only takes a few strokes before I feel myself beginning to cum.

I let go, moaning as it crests inside me and explodes. It’s so fucking good. He is so fucking good.

I come to collapsed on the toilet seat, sweaty, my pants on the floor, starting to realise I have just audibly wanked myself off at work. My last functioning brain cell informs me that it has no idea what it is about Alex, but I’m absolutely 100pc finished. Game over. I can’t pretend this one away.

Fuck. Now what?

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/p4zx8m/breaking_the_boy_mf_ds