“I still can’t believe this is real and happening to me.” I muttered aloud, in the solitude of my bathroom. “This doesn’t happen to guys like me… I’m not rich and famous, how…?” Despite being together for weeks, everyday seemed almost like a dream. Somehow, at 31 years of age, I had managed to attract the interest and attention of an 18 year old. My relationship with Ally began as more and more relationships seem to start in the 21st century- the internet. Somehow, we had gone from flirting to staying up half the night talking about everything and even nothing. In a few short weeks we had gone from internet strangers to… lovers? No, that’s not the right word. Or is it? It’s so hard to tell nowadays. Whatever label you do or do not want to place on our relationship, it was unexpected and, honestly, pretty beautiful. I looked in the mirror, still trying to determine how we had gotten here. At six feet tall and 210 pounds, i wasn’t exactly an Adonis or anything. My job being physically demanding meant I wasn’t “fat” but, I always wanted to lose 10 or 15 pounds. Apparently, though, that made me “cuddly.” A smile crept across my face as I recalled Ally’s description of me. The mirror returned my smile and I shook my head. Of course, the disarming smile – that had to be it. I was blessed with a straight, decent looking smile, despite never having worn braces. My face, similarly had the gift of a pleasant symmetry and balanced structure, framed by light brown hair and punctuated with deep, brown eyes .In spite of these facts, I’ve never enjoyed being photographed. I rubbed my beard, bringing myself back to reality and out of my thoughts. I padded the couple of feet from the sink to the toilet, dropping my shorts as I stopped in front of the porcelain seat. After lifing the lid, my dick was released from my boxers and the morning hard on was relieved, my bladder thankful for the release. I’m not going to say that I have the biggest member of all time, but I’ve never had complaints. In fact, I’ve been told it’s a good looking cock by all the women who’ve witnessed it erect. I couldn’t even begin to understand what that means, I’m just glad they never felt the need to call it hideous. Putting my penis back into its cloth prison, I closed the lid, flushed and padded back to the sink to wash my hands. Time for breakfast, then – time to shop.
Shopping was more difficult than it had any business being. I’ve been shopping for years, always in and out in 10 minutes, unless purchasing groceries. But this… this was different… I was trying to figure out how to turn ordinary household items into sex toys for my slut. “I want to be your slut.” When Ally told me that, I think my brain shut down completely for several seconds. In fact, I’m sure of it, because as I was trying to figure out if I had heard her correctly, she said it again. “Please, sir, make me your slut.” Ally breathed, passion in her eyes as she continued to come down from her orgasm. I couldn’t help but take in the entirety of her body in that moment. Her dark hair disheveled, spread across the pillow. An unmistakable air of contentment upon her face, as her breasts heaved gently with each breath, their perky nature remaining, even though she was on her back. “Must be their size” I’m sure I thought, as I recalled the way they sprang free from her bra and filled my hand when I had first ripped her clothing from her. They had to be at least a C, if not Ds, as they bounced freely and adorned the top of her tight waist. Then again, it’s so difficult to discern breast size in the throes of passion. Less difficult to determine was the curve of her hips, as her pretty bum – perfectly juicy – forced her hips to widen from her tiny waist to accommodate her delicious derriere. Gorgeously shaped, feminine and soft – the perfect foil to my hard cock and rough desires. I had stared for what felt like hours upon the entirety of her exposed flesh, from the soft curves of her calves, up to her warm pussy – already wet with desire and topped by a small bush, acting to guide melt eyes to her velvety lips – to her taught tummy, traveling now to her incredible tits – impossibly perky, defying gravity in ways that seem unachievable. Traveling ever upwards, my eyes latched next to her nipples, hard and proud, surrounded by medium sized areolas, both resting somewhere between brown and pink in color. After tearing my eyes from the grandeur of her nipples, I took in how her raven hair framed her shoulders, clavicles, neck, and face. The long, wavy locks contrasted perfectly with her light caramel skin and radiant, but shy, smile. I knew we would passionate love. But, in that moment, I never dreamed that our connection would tip from sensual to savage.
After managing to clear my mind multiple times of the vision of beauty, desire, and debauchery that had taken hold, I left the store with a handful of prizes, sure to surprise even her in their application to her sexual needs.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vjeeho/from_passion_to_pain_mf_agegap_bdsm