The (F)irst of Many Do(m)/Sub Nights

We were on the way home from a night of hookah and mint tea, a favorite Friday night activity. I’m a blonde 20-something, slender build, just-a-handful breasts and shapely hips—think Kristen Bell with a more unique nose. He is around 6 feet, tan and dark hair with an equally aggravating and cute smile. Oh right, and a very pretty 7” dick. Relaxed and buzzed from the hookah, the conversation turned to his upcoming dinner plans with an old friend. “You know, I think she could seriously be a candidate,” he said, referencing our current search for a threesome partner. My ears pricked, and I got this feeling—“Wait a second, how are you so sure? Did you hook up with her in school?” He grinned, knowing how much I salivate over hearing about his past sexcapades. He is far more experienced—and I get smug (and turned on) from knowing that he’s been with all these different women, but has stuck with me for the longest. After a few minutes of cajoling, he admitted that she was actually pretty wild: over-the-top vocal and a bit domineering. ‘Oh shit,’ I thought, ‘that might actually work for us.’ Describing what we would each do to her (and vice versa), not surprising that we were both super turned on by the end of the car ride.

Before going out I had slipped in a butt plug in anticipation of Anal Date Night. We tried anal for the first time recently, and had planned to continue exploring it. But…anal would be slow and careful, and I could tell that we just needed to fuck tonight.

We sat on the couch for a bit trying to think of something new to try (instead of anal) that was worthy of our current horniness. He got that stupid fucking gleam in his eyes when he figures out something before me—“You said earlier that you think you’re inherently submissive, right? Why don’t we explore that?” My eyes widened, knowing that was exactly what I had in mind. It seemed to always have always been a part of our relationship; I like relinquishing control and being thrown around, he gets a kick out of teasing and denial games. We had nights “in charge” where one person would take the reins, but it was mostly just choosing location, type of foreplay and positions. Anyway, I liked the sound of being ordered around, so we reinstated our safe word and begun.

“First, I think you should call me Sir.” Ugggggh, I groaned inwardly, it was so cheesy. I was not looking to recreate some Fifty Shades nonsense. Humoring him, I crinkled my nose and tried it, “Yes, Sir.” I immediately felt a rush of embarrassment, humiliation and—pleasure? Holy shit, did I have a dormant humiliation fetish all this time? We were about to find out.

“Stand Up.” I could see the wheels turning in his head while I stood awkwardly before him. He told me to pull my dress down off my shoulders, so I did. “Further, and take one of your boobs out.” Okay, easy enough. “Lick your fingers and play with your nipple,” he said, grinning like a cocky asshole. I rolled my eyes and complied, blowing on the nipple to make it harder.

“Um, so did I tell you to blow?” I froze, wide-eyed, unsure of what would happen next. In the ground rules I said I’d be okay with light punishment, as long as it didn’t become the sole focus of the night. Before I could reply, he forcibly spun me around by the hips and spanked me hard. It hurt, and then it felt good and tingly, like it always does.

Resuming orders, I got down on my knees to undo his belt. The second I touched it, I just flat out lost control. We both know that I get insanely turned on by the belt, although I hadn’t quite figured out why. I don’t have daddy issues, I don’t necessarily love being hit or tied up with a belt…I’m just really turned on by the object itself in his hands. Anyway, I start panting like an animal, and all my doubts and eye-rolling are out the window. I need to please him, right the fuck now, because in the back of my head I know an equitable return awaits.

He takes the belt from me, loops it, and catches me by surprise by slapping it across my nipples. I yelped and, starting to get more in character, said thank you. He grinned, took out his cock, and coached me through his favorite blow job techniques: starting at the base and licking all the way up, gently sucking on his balls and tickling right underneath, lightly teasing the head and then pushing down in to as far as I can deepthroat. All while maintaing eye contact. As he moans and tells me what a good job I’m doing, I get more and more enthusiastic, happily bobbing up and down, and honestly slobbering everywhere. I can tell that he is getting close at this point, as he is getting really hard and upright. He stopped me abruptly (rude!) and we stood up. He kissed me hard, smiled, and threw me down on the couch to go down on me.

That is, he went down on me after a solid minute of me shamelessly begging for it. He didn’t waste any time with teasing (as I’ve been waiting long enough!) and got into that forceful tongue rhythm that I love. Slowly approaching orgasm, I felt so grateful and ashamed to be on the receiving end that I know I need to do something to reaffirm his ultimate control. So I asked for his permission to orgasm. No, I didn’t cum on command—because he stopped tongue-fucking me to give his blessing. But eventually, with the help of two pumping fingers, his tongue and kneading my own breasts, I shook hard and orgasmed for 30 glorious seconds.

After my heart rate returned to normal, he asked if I’d ever tasted myself. “No,” I lied, knowing that he’d get a kick out of it. He took two fingers and dirtily probed around in my mouth, another one of my favorite sensations. Regaining horniness, I asked for permission to suck his dick again. After a couple of minutes, and wanting to freaking fuck already, he had the corny idea that I should put the condom on with my mouth. At this point I would’ve done anything he said, so—giggling— I pinched the tip and rolled it down with pressure from my lips. Still on the couch, he teased me with his cock for what seemed like forever.

“Stand up and follow me.” I assumed we were going to the bedroom. He had other plans—he suddenly grabbed me from behind and backed me into a corner of the dark hallway.
“Bend over.” I reached towards my toes, like a ragdoll, lifting to my tiptoes to get the best angle. I was so far gone; all I could say was “please” and “use me” over and over. He entered slowly, then got a good grip on my hips and repeatedly slammed me up and down on his cock.

Legs shaky and no longer able to stand on my toes, we headed 5 steps over to the bedroom. I landed on the bed on my back and the next moment he was fucking me with my legs in the air. I’m not someone who usually cums from PIV, but this was hitting the fucking spot. My whole body tensed with pleasure. “Where do you want to cum, sir?” I barely got out between gasps. He basically growled at me: “I’m going to cum on you, but you have to ask nicely.” Once again, I found myself begging “Please” over and over again while he jackhammered away—until he pulled out, yanked the condom off and blew cum all over my tits and stomach. Still in the moment and feeling extra dirty, I smeared it around and coated my boobs, grinning up at him. When he was done I quickly leaned it, took his cock in my mouth and cleaned him up. We collapsed on the bed, exhausted and satisfied.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4094yi/the_first_of_many_domsub_nights