An excerpt from a wonderful convorsation I had with a follower of mine:
“For example a more submissive fantasy of mine is that of receiving a massage with a creamy happy ending:
*My lover lays me down and deeply kneads all the stress from my curvaceous body. It’s a long, fulfilling session, not at all rushed by the inevitable finale. By the time he’s finished I’m exquisitely sore and blissfully lethargic in a melty comfortable kind of way. He then gently and slowly spreads my legs and lifts, placing a soft cushion underneath my hips, arching my back in a non-uncomfortable way and bringing my already well-oiled pussy to perfect penetration height. He’ll then kneel on the table behind me and sheathe himself in a slow smooth filling motion. And even as he begins to thrust, it’s not at all fast or vigorous, but slow rythmic and strong. I’d allow myself to writhe a little, my toes to curl, and I would reward his ministrations with languid, heady, drawn-out pants and moans. He wouldn’t “pound” me or “plough” me, pull my hair or spank me. But he would caress me, tease a few of those sore spots with gentle kneeds, and definetly cradle my hips as he plap… plap… plaps against me. The pleasure would build agonizingly slowly, and as I sat tipping on the edge for a notably extended number of minutes, the thing that would tip me over is the sensation of one last extra-deep and intimate thrust and the unmistakable pressure of him cumming inside me. This is the part where my fantasies of human anatomy override reality, but in my mind’s-eye his penis tip kisses my cervix, and his hot seed fills my womb. In my first act of agency in the last hour I wiggle my hips and strain to coax his twitching member deeper, desperately yearning for his slippery head to pop through the tight passage so it can deposit it’s load even more directly. Even his ejaculation is gentle yet strong, not a wild spraying or squirting, but a pulsing spuuuuuuuuurt… spuuuuuuuuurt… spuuuuuuuuurt that balloons my womb into a warm little bubble within me. I lie panting, moaning, melting for wave after throbbing wave of rapturous illucidity. My weak body steaming with oil, sweat, sweet perfume, and the sweeter scent of clean bodies lovemaking. The climax eventually wanes, but it returns in gentle aftershocks that briefly and periodically once again send me skywards, my pussy twitching and spasming against my lover still resting comfortably inside me. In my fantasy he remains hard; a warm, sturdy, stabilizing, presence within me. Like a well-fucked lover my flower caresses and cuddles it’s welcome guest, and my ever-so-slightly bloated womb radiates a warm fulfillment like a well fed stomach. These sensations linger as my lover rests atop and within me, lying across my back he fills his nose with the scent of my hair, our breaths steady and we drift off to slumber.*”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ulz1c3/fantasy_of_a_massage_and_perfect_happy_ending