What does a guy want to remove from a girl he mistakenly believes is shortly going to suck lubricant, and goodness knows what bacteria, off his penis? You decide on matching, white pants and bra with little lace borders. But you're on a deadline, and your qualms are soon swallowed up in the choosing of underwear. It seems a pleasingly heightening juxtaposition to preface whatever depravity he will push you into with a display of wholesome, innocent, old-fashioned care: cook him a nice meal, hang his coat, wait for him to initiate conversations - signs of a feigned deference you would normally rather choke than feel or show.Īs you move round the kitchen in your dressing gown, chopping veg, putting a bottle of white in the freezer, tidying as you cook, you enjoy the feeling of serving him, and you resent yourself for doing so. You are a soft-line feminist, but something about the way you are giving in to him suggests a kind of 1950s women's-mag domesticity. You're squeamish and hate the idea of anything coming out. You feel a shiver of shame that you now know how much water you need for this - it's degrading to be becoming skilled at getting your anus ready for a man to use for sex. You know for sure you are going to be sodomised, so you unscrew the shower head and give yourself a careful enema, pushing the hose up to but not into your anus so that the water pushes through: not so much water that it will get far in and loosen things higher up, but enough to mean that you get every particle out as far as he will reach. You flush slightly as your fingertips explore your clitoris. You shiver in anticipation of the pain that you will feel, aware of a familiar tingle in your thighs. You shower, imagining the harsh way his hands will grope your body as you gently caress your neck, breast and thighs. You will be well-groomed and sexily dressed. If you're going to tease him you want to make it special for him. You head home as early as you can get away with. You've also discovered that you are more physically resilient than you (or your exes) would have thought. You often notice the paradox that his total selfishness is so much better for you than the consideration others have shown you. And the vengeful way he'll take you if you use it and then let him get his own back on you with sex will be amazing! Until him you had never been taken really hard, and the orgasms have been a revelation.
You can go along with it for the exciting anticipation and call it off at the last moment. Maybe you don't have to tell him just now that it's not going to happen. You make to stand up from the loo seat and can feel at once that you are wet - sopping. And with something you think is pretty disgusting. Now he is directly challenging your limits. No blood, no marks visible when clothed, absolute respect for your safe word, absolute confidentiality, and no urine or faeces, including "ass to mouth" - even the Americanised vulgarity of the term offends your English ear. When you first started exploring your submissive side with him you specified this as one of your hard limits. It contains only the words, printed in his tight, small hand: "ATM tonight". Why on earth are you stopping to notice this? Do you now want to tease yourself further? Are you afraid? Or are you simply wanting to experience every sensation to its fullest and clearest? The card itself is incongruously pretty - a late-Impressionist painting, in heightened colours, of a bourgeois garden, its flowers oversaturated by the reproduction. Your hands, you notice, are shaking slightly. You slip to the loo and tear open the envelope in the semi-privacy of the cubicle.
The text doesn't come until 3pm, by which time you are hardly able to concentrate at all on your work. It doesn't occur to you to open the envelope without permission, though he could never find out. Why do you get so pathetically needy when he plays with you like this? You're never normally the kind to wait, fluttering, for a man to contact you. At lunch you hoped for a text, and checked your e-mail more often than you could really excuse to yourself. You had pleasant butterflies in your stomach - mild but distinct - whenever you thought of it during the morning's dull meeting. It was this morning as he left for work that he gave you an envelope, telling you to not to open it until he gave you the order to do so. He genuinely thinks that you are going to do it this evening, and that you'll be doing it just because you have been told to. How could she do that? What did it taste like? Was it safe? The first time you saw it on a porn film you were fascinated but utterly repelled: a woman being deeply sodomised and then, when the man withdrew, spinning rapidly round as if eager, dropping to her knees and taking his glistening penis directly, deeply, apparently greedily into her mouth. You find it slightly hard to believe he even thinks you would consider doing this.
0 kommentar(er)
