I’m twenty three. Male. Identify as a man, I guess. I don’t really think I’m straight, but it’s the team I’m batting for at the moment, o to speak. Sixth year of college.
And at the moment, I’m living in a figment of my imagination, within a world where I’m pressed up between two lovers.. figuratively speaking. My own fantasy, I suppose. Based on very limited experience and an imagination on a leash… yes, *that* kind of leash.
The two women. Goddesses, they’re both something else. It’s a classic fantasy, but I don’t think anyone’s given it credit so far, and I’m looking to amend that.
She’s raunchy and patient. Firm, with eyes that tell me my own secrets when they lock with mine. When I’m *told* to let them lock with mine. She’s dominant, you see? fourteen years my senior and smarter than me for sure, though she’ll wave it off and slap my ass playfully.. but a little hard. That gets me going. Makes me want to be under her. She decides when that happens, and it gets me desperate.
I’m a runner for sure. It’s the mode of exercise I’ve landed on. There’s just something about the breeze and the feeling of motion and change that’s enchanting.
She’s confident and kind. A year or two younger than me. Endearingly fastidious. She could manage the orbits of the planets and moons. When I told her that, she laughed and joked that she’d just Google the math behind them, and use that. She could manage the algorithms of a search engine. But she likes for me to manage her orgasms. I don’t know entirely why, but I don’t need to. When I tell her to get her clothes off, she does, and she does so with the cutest smirk, which I just can’t get out of my head.
When running outdoors on the trails, I get a mutual sensation that I’m turning the world, and that the world is turning me. It’s surreal to watch the trees fly by me, and wonder whether they or I am going faster.
I saw her in the bar, and smiled politely. She knew where I wanted to look. I didn’t know at the time, but she told me she found my specifically above-the-chin gaze cute and endearing, though maybe a little off putting. She told me I could look down if I wanted to, and when I took her up on that offer, she pushed her shoulders back and brushed her hair to the side, getting a kick out of this dumb college boy drooling over her tits. She read me like a book from there, and there’s nothing she’s asked from me that I could see myself refusing.
On the edge of a cliff, I spent a night sleeping. Well, trying to. I got a few naps in. It was cold, despite being high desert in an apocalypse. But I’d decided that I wanted to sleep up there, just to see how it felt. No pillow, sharing space with a scorpion, and the wind taunting me with its whisper. But I felt at peace, and in a sense free. No one to bother me, no one to care.
When I brought her to my apartment, I think she was relieved. Covid rules. No students in dorms outside their own buildings. A rule easy enough to break, but going off campus took away all the headache. Her hand in mine, coming in through the front door, she looked around and smiled, commenting on the state. I keep my place nice, be damn sure about that! After all, I’d never let someone gag and blindfold me in a rat’s nest.
The night air felt good, but the rocks were another matter. Trusting the universe enough to sleep a roll away from a sudden drop and nasty stop is a really uncomfortable feeling. But uncomfortable feelings are the best feelings to let go of. To hold them out in front of my face, feel their weight, observe my arm and shoulder getting tired and stuff, to think about how uncomfortable the circumstance makes me, to ask myself why, and to let go. To feel the blood rush back into my arm as I let it down, breathe out slowly, and forget why I ever worried.
I inhale sharply. My breath is tight and crisp, because there’s a hand around my throat and soon there will be a collar. I let out an involuntary laugh as her red hair dangles over me and tickles my chest. She giggles and leans in, her breath on my nose and lips, looking down at her handiwork as she tightens the strap and I feel my heart jump. Arms far above my head, bound together to the bed. Feet as far apart as they can be, each commanded to be still by tight cords and a corner of the frame. I’m naked, except for my socks. She’s in a skirt and blouse, straddling me, close enough for my penis to twitch every time the skirt grazes it, but she won’t touch it, at least not yet. I’m dying to feel her. However she wants. However she feels.
Watching the sunrise is nice from the top of the mountain. It’s a breath of fresh air in contrast to watching my phone turn from 5:44 to 5:45 and beep at me.
Her lips curl around the fabric and gently move as she whimpers. Her belly twisting, the most she can do to move while I hold her hands in mine and keep my weight on her ankles. Now she squirms enough that she might knock me off the bed, and I can’t have that, so I lean down further, feeling her mumble a muffled “yes” as I pin her whole body under mine. My dick rests against her thigh, her nipples on my chest, the clips squeezing them cold against my skin. I tell her that if she’s good, I’ll let her cum tonight.
I like long drives and long talks at night. Looking out the window, letting the words come to you, listening to another human. Speaking truths to the stars and the passing headlights. It’s a vibe.
❦
*Y’all want a part two? I’m tired right now, lol, but I’ll probably continue this!*
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/onw771/caught_in_the_dichotomy_fmf