The first time TSH and I explored our fantasies, brought them into reality was about 4 years ago now. I remember it in flashback. Thoughts and feelings running disjointedly through my head…
Rolling around on the floor, semi-naked.
A hard kiss as he held my head in place, forcing his tongue further into my mouth as I moaned in pleasure at the first hints of what was to come.
Him lifting my hands above my head, pinning me in place by my wrists, a specimen for his taking.
The burn of the carpet as I wriggled against his weight.
The way he pushed my legs apart; no doubt who was in charge.
His fingers tracing up and down, stopping to pinch and probe. Gentle fingers getting rougher.
His hot mouth moving down from my lips, brushing against my jawline, nipping at my earlobe. So gentle, so frustrating.
And then a slap, an experiment to see how we both reacted. Something triggered in us both.
Another slap and a hard, sucking bite. I lay shivering in anticipation as he bit and sucked and slapped his way over my breasts.
He rolled me over; I realised he’d not been holding my wrists. I’d kept myself in position through years of longing and hoping and wishing.
He worked on my shoulders, biting, sucking, nibbling.
Making me moan in pleasure and pain until the boundaries between them blurred.
More pinching, grabbing of handfuls of me.
Intense bites to make me gasp.
Bruises blooming; my first trophies.
And then everything changed. I became hypersensitised; he couldn’t touch me. I shivered uncontrollably.
We learnt aftercare through urgent necessity. Tight blanket wrapping me up like a chrysalis.
The shivering stopped and he stroked my hair.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
Everything fall into place in my head.
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