I met Sonia, a statuesque red head with a spectacular figure, through mutual friends while working in Chicago.
She was in her very early thirties, and an assertive, confident investment banker by profession. For those familiar with the industry she was probably four years out of business school, and had just made “Vice President” which is a sort of mid-level seniority. Not yet a “master of the universe”, but steadily making her way up the greasy pole.
When we originally met I knew she had a serious boyfriend, and became engaged shortly afterwards so, although I found her very attractive, I didn’t pay her much attention except in a polite, platonic, friendly way.
However one evening when we had just finished a night out with friends, and the others had dispersed, we were waiting on the sidewalk as I was chivalrously trying to get her a cab before heading home myself. We finally flagged one down and, as it pulled into the kerb, she suddenly pulled me towards her and kissed me on the mouth.
I was so surprised that I didn’t know how to react. This may sound stupid, but I had her filed so firmly in the “long term boyfriend, therefore not available” category that it hadn’t even occurred to me that she might find me attractive.
Although at the time I was single, I am generally a kind of a serial monogamist, so I genuinely find it difficult to understand why someone who is in a long term relationship (and I think she was actually engaged by this point) would suddenly lunge at one of her male friends. I am not judging, I simply don’t think like that – probably just lack imagination!
After the kiss she stepped back, looked me straight in the eye, and said “that was nice.”
Then, with a grin she jumped into the cab and, as it moved off, she stuck her head out of the window and shouted “call me” before disappearing into the night, leaving me staring dumbly after her.
I didn’t have her number, so a few days later I had to get it, I hoped discreetly, from the mutual friend who had originally introduced us.
I was busy at work, and also a bit confused, so it wasn’t until later the following week that I plucked up courage to call her at her office.
She answered professionally initially, and then, when she realised who was calling, she asked me to hold for a moment as she moved to somewhere more private, presumably an empty office.
“You took your time!” she teased. “Good to hear from you”.
We chatted a bit and arranged to meet for a drink at the weekend. She didn’t even mention her fiancé. I couldn’t quite work out what her agenda was (and, yes, I do realise I am a bit slow!).
On Saturday she met me at my office around 6pm (I also worked in finance, so hours were pretty long and Saturday working was standard).
When she turned up at the reception of my office building I was slightly less unclear as to her agenda. She was wearing a tight black leather skirt, white t-shirt/body and a black leather jacket. Her long red hair was loose and flowing down her back.
She looked fantastic, and very classy – re-reading my description of her outfit I realise it could sound as if it was a bit tacky, but quite the opposite, the outfit was understated, sophisticated, and very sexy. Not an easy thing to pull off, but she had nailed it.
It was clear that others thought so too, as a couple of my colleagues who were also in the lobby gave me a knowing, raised eyebrow, look. However, I take more convincing and still wasn’t 100% sure whether I was on a “date” or not.
I greeted her with a friendly double kiss “you look amazing – what’s the occasion!?”
” We’ll have to see won’t we!!” she replied with a cheeky smile.
We went off to a bar to have some martinis – in my opinion America’s crowning cultural achievement (although I realise this may be a controversial opinion, and I am prepared to hear opposing arguments in favour of the Peanut M&M).
We started into the martinis and after the third Sonia reminded me of Dorothy Parker’s famous aphorism about four martinis…
“So who is the host I replied?” finally getting the message loud and clear.
“Well, if we go back to your place, you will be!” she responded looking me directly in the eye.
That was sufficiently unambiguous even for me “I think we should go” I said smiling, but also nervous. Heart beating fast, butterflies in my stomach “One more for the road?”
“Well that would make four…” she replied pointedly.
” Quite!” I responded.
The drinks came and we snuggled up together in our booth. Her hip pressed against mine, her hand straying to my arm, my leg as she emphasised various points she was making.
We left the bar and started to walk back to my apartment, which wasn’t far away. She walked close and her hip bumped repeatedly against mine. She slipped her arm around my waist and pulled in close. I put my arm over her shoulders and did the same. With the hand that was not around my waist she reached up and took the hand that was around her shoulder, and gently but firmly pulled it down so it was resting on her right breast. As I think I have mentioned, she had a spectacular figure – I was to find out later she was a 34E – and I took the weight of her breast in my hand, massaging it gently. She nestled in closer and said “hmm, that’s nice”.
We walked like this the few minutes back to my building, and went up in the elevator to my 10th floor apartment.
We entered my apartment, which she knew, having been there a number of times previously with groups of people, but this was the first time she had been there alone with me.
Suddenly there was a slight awkwardness as to what to do next. For once I was smart enough to take the initiative and slipped my arms around her waist under the leather jacket and pulled her in to me for a kiss. I felt her magnificent breasts squash into my chest as I leant down to meet her offered lips.
She was tall, probably 5’9″ or so, and in her “fuck me” heels she must have been nudging six feet. Still a few inches shorter than I, but the height differential worked pretty well.
As we kissed, our tongues entwined, exploring each others’ mouths, and I took my left hand from her waist and put it behind her neck to pull her into me harder. Her groin rubbed against mine and she moaned gently as she relaxed into the embrace and also felt my cock hardening into her crotch.
I slipped off her leather jacket and threw it onto a nearby chair. I then unzipped her leather skirt and let it fall to the floor. Now I could see that the t-shirt was indeed a “body”, cut very high around the legs and hips and with a thong back, completely exposing her magnificent arse.
I continued to undress her, enjoying the dynamic of my remaining fully clothed while she was, increasingly, naked. I kissed down the side of her neck onto her shoulders and then down to the tops of her breasts. As I kissed further down to the fabric of the body I slipped it off her shoulders and pulled the top down to her waist, exposing her breasts that were supported by a lacy silk bra.
She moaned as I kissed down her breasts and then I reached behind her to unfasten the bra. I slipped it off her shoulders to reveal the full magnificence of her breasts. The light freckling on her shoulders ended at the top of her breasts which were perfectly milky white. They hung firm but pendulous. Erect nipples pointing out 45 degrees each side. I kissed further down to take a nipple in my mouth.
Suddenly I noticed a tension in her. She was no longer relaxed and pulled her arms together almost as if she was trying to hide her breasts. She was looking down and to one side, not wanting to meet my eyes. I realised she was actually embarrassed by her exposed body.
It was unbelievable to me that anyone with such a magnificent body should feel embarrassed by it, but I also realised that a lot of people have quite unwarranted hang-ups about their physical self, and she was clearly no exception.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” I whispered. ” You have an unbelievable body”.
I kissed her breasts again and then sank to my knees in front of her, kissing my way down her belly. I continued to pull the “body” down over her hips and then down to her thighs, exposing her pussy, nestling inside a neatly trimmed red bush. I kissed her there, inhaling the musky odour of her arousal. I grasped her arse cheeks in each hand and drew her crotch into my face. I pulled the body down her thighs and let it fall to her feet so she could step out of it.
She was now completely naked and I was still fully clothed.
I knelt back on my heels to look up at her, admiring her naked form.
Her red hair falling over her now naked shoulders; pale skin with light freckles. Large, creamy white breasts jutting proud, shapely arse, delicate spare tyre roll of fat around her belly, shapely but powerful thighs and long legs.
By day she might be an assertive and high powered investment banker but here, now, naked with me, she was simply a spectacular body, built for sex.
I looked up at her admiringly and said “I can’t believe you are here with me in my apartment, naked”
She laughed in a slightly bashful manner “I can hardly believe it myself. For someone as slow on the uptake as you it takes real work!”
“Sorry!” I laughed.
The ice was broken and she seemed more relaxed.
“You are so fucking gorgeous!!” I said, shaking my head slowly. “It just didn’t occur to me.”
I pulled her groin into my face again, and kissed her pussy. Then I continued my journey downwards, down one leg, kissing her inner thigh, to her calves and feet, kissing her toes. I then went up the other leg in the same manner, until I reached her pussy again.
This time I gently opened her up with my thumbs, pulling her lips apart to allow me access to the moist interior. I licked her tentatively. Savouring the wonderful flavour. I circled her a few times, teasing her clitoris, eliciting little gasps from her. I then slipped my hand between her legs and teased her arsehole as I licked, which caused a sharp intake of breath and an involuntary clenching of her buttocks.
“I looked up and said, grinning, did you like that?”
She swallowed and nodded quickly. Not trusting her voice, to speak. Or not being ready to admit, out loud, what she really felt.
“Hmm. Interesting”.
I left her pussy and kissed and licked my way up her body, over her belly, up between her breasts and then onto each of them, licking and sucking on each nipple in turn. I then went up her neck to her beautiful face and kissed her full on the mouth. Forcing her to taste her own pussy on my lips and tongue.
As I did this I put one hand firmly on each of her arse cheeks and grasped them firmly, pulling her naked body towards me, squashing her breasts into my chest.
We were standing in front of a full length mirror, which gave me a fantastic view of her naked body from the rear.
I span her around so that she was looking at herself full length, naked, in the mirror, with me standing behind her.
She tried to look away and down so she wouldn’t see herself in the reflection. I held her head so she had to face forward. I saw her looking reluctantly at the image before her.
I kissed the top of her head ” You look absolutely ravishing”.
I cupped her breasts in my hands and feeling their weight, started massaging them gently. After a bit she moved her hands to mine and stopped me doing the massage. I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by this but then she took my fingers in each hand and placed them on her extended nipples. She closed my fingers tightly over each nipple and squeezed in a way that must have been painful. Then she looked at me in the eye, via the mirror and said “Squeeze. Hurt my nipples.”
“What? I responded, confused.
“I want you to hurt my breasts. Squeeze the nipples. Crush them. Hurt me. I like to be hurt. It turns me on. Makes me wet.” she twisted her head to look up at me directly rather than via the reflection in the mirror “Am I a terrible pervert?” she asked, with an embarrassed smile.
I took her face by the chin and pulled her into me for a deep kiss “I don’t think you’re a pervert.”
With that I grasped a nipple with the fingers of each hand and squeezed slowly but firmly, with ever increasing pressure. She moaned gently and then I started to twist her nipples. Hard. She cried out and gasped again. I lifted her breasts by the nipples, allowing them to take the whole of their substantial weight. I dug my nails into her flesh and twisted again.
Then I released her breasts and gently manoeuvred her forward, towards the mirror. I pushed her up against it, forcing her breasts against the cold glass. She gasped at the shock of the cold on this most intimate and sensitive area.
I reached between her legs and found her pussy from behind. I slipped one, two then three fingers into her slick interior and started to finger-fuck her pussy as I pressed her breasts against the cold glass.
I kissed my way down her back to her arse. I planted kisses all over her beautiful buttocks, gradually moving towards the crack between them. I pulled her cheeks apart kissing deeper and deeper into the crack. Smelling the musky, sweaty aromas that inevitably result when a woman spends an evening wearing a tight leather skirt, and gradually getting more and more aroused.
My tongue eventually found her anus, and circled it gently before probing inside the sphincter. The sweat-musk smell was overlain by a slightly acrid note of shit and I probed deeper, pulling her cheeks as wide as I could to allow me to force my tongue deeper and deeper into her fragrant arse. She was gasping and moaning, initially making ineffectual protestations, before writhing her hips, and thrusting back at my tongue as she surrendered to this intrusion.
I am not by any means a coprophilic, but that note of shit in the mix of scents and flavours added a real sense of depravity to the act, which I found highly erotic.
I see anilingus as having the potential to be both a dominant or a submissive act. Here it was dominant as I was “forcing” it on here. I was opening her up in the most intimate way possible. I wasn’t giving her a choice, but rather, bit by bit imposing myself on her, allowing her to protest, but also allowing time for her token protestations to morph into acceptance, and desire. Obviously it is a fine line to judge when protestation is real or “token” – and we hadn’t, at that stage, done anything so formal as agree “safe words”, so that is why it was important to go slowly and see how things developed.
Conversely if, as I certainly hoped to do, I was later to “force” her to lick my arse, and she acquiesced, that would clearly be a submissive act, and I was certainly getting the sense that under her confident investment banker facade, there was a submissive masochist lurking not far from the surface.
But I digress…
As I continued to tongue her arsehole I kept my three fingers in her pussy, now sopping wet and I pistoned back and forth, almost fisting her as she became more and more aroused.
I then had an idea. The interior walls of the warehose style apartment were exposed brick, and the mirror was bolted direct to the wall, so the mirror was surrounded by brick.
I stood up, keeping my fingers in her pussy and guided her off the mirror and instead pressed her firmly against the wall and rubbed her breasts to and fro against the rough brickwork.
She moaned in alarm as she felt her nipples abrading against the bricks. I held her head in my hand to protect her beautiful face from the rough surface, but pushed hard to press her breasts and belly against the harsh wall, all the time continuing to hand-fuck her roughly from behind.
It must have been incredibly uncomfortable. Not to say painful, to have her nipples abraded like this, but she was moaning and crying in apparent ecstacy.
I then gave her arse an exploratory slap with my hand to judge her reaction. It wasn’t hard, but firm enough to show intent, and she moaned gratifyingly at the impact. I then gave her a couple more slaps and she moaned again.
“Do you like being spanked?”
“Yes” she whispered, into the wall. I grasped her by the chin and turned her head to look at me. “Do you want me to spank you harder? Punish you properly like a naughty girl?” She nodded and whispered again “yes”.
” I can’t hear you”
“Yes please” she said more loudly. “Spank me – hard. Please”
I responded with a couple of much firmer spanks, which, in in addition to causing her to gasp with pain from the impact, also had the effect of forcing her breasts up against the wall, rubbing them more painfully against the brickwork.
I spanked harder and harder, and whispered in her ear “You are a very, very bad girl. Standing here naked, letting a strange man lick your arse and finger your cunt”.
“Are you a dirty slut who needs to be punished?”
“Yes, yes, I am. I am a filthy little slut who deserves to be punished”.
I grasped her by the wrists, pulling her hands behind her back, and forced her to hold my erect cock. Then I rubbed it along her crack from her pussy to her anus. As it rested against her anal hole she tensed “No!”
“Don’t worry I am not going to put it in there. At least not today. And not without a condom. But I am going to put it in here – moving the end of my cock to test against her pussy – if you have brought some condoms”
She said nothing “Did you bring condoms? I think you planned to get fucked tonight, so I think you probably brought some with you. Did you?”
“Yes”
“Where are they”
“In my jacket pocket.”
“Go and get one”
I released her and she turned around, displaying her scratched and abraded breasts. She walked across to where her jacket lay on the chair, bent down, displaying her magnificent, and now slightly pink, arse and reached into the jacket pocket. She returned with a condom in its foil packet.
I, of course, had condoms in the apartment, but the erotic power play of making her confess to also having brought some was too good an opportunity to miss.
“Are you a little slut who goes out with packets of condoms all the time in the hope of getting fucked by strange men”.
She said nothing.
“Are you?” I asked, louder. “And by the way, I whole heartedly approve of that strategy!”
“Yes, I guess I am” and she laughed shyly, releasing the tension.
With that she knelt down in front of me, naked and opened the foil wrapper. She took out the condom and, at my instruction, rolled it onto and down my erect cock, which, as I remained fully clothed, stuck out of the fly of my trousers. I was still enjoying the power dynamic of remaining fully clothed while she was naked.
Once sheathed in latex she took my cock in her hands and stroked it appreciatively, before taking it into her mouth to give it a suck.
Then I took her by the hands and pulled her to her feet. I pulled her towards me, with my hard cock sandwiched between us and then grasped her arse and picked her up. She instinctively wrapped her legs around my waist and with one arm around my neck, used her other hand to feed my cock into her welcoming vagina. She was tight, but very wet, and my cock forced its way through the initial resistance before sliding smoothly home. With my cock securely inside her she put the other hand round my neck and pulled herself in tight.
She wasn’t a lightweight and she seemed to revel in being picked up and fucked. I turned and banged her hard up against the wall. This time tormenting her back and arse cheeks against the brickwork.
I fucked her brutally and she screamed and moaned, digging her nails into my back. Even through my shirt I wondered whether she had drawn blood.
She found my mouth and we kissed deeply and passionately as we held each other tight.
We continued to fuck, roughly and then gently. I would pull my cock all the way out, and then thrust it brutally all the way back in. A couple of times I teased her anus again with the head if my cock, nuzzling at her sphincter. Each time I noted the tension this produced in her, and concluded that she genuinely wasn’t ready for this intrusion today.
Finally I reached around and probed her anus with my finger. I pulled my head back a little and looked her in the eye “finger ok?”
She nodded and I slipped my finger into her anus and thrust it in and out. That was it, and she mewled and writhed as she orgasmed spectacularly, causing me to follow suit immediately.
As we came down from the plateau of orgasm I held her tight, still pressed up against the wall as she panted and moaned.
I kissed her face and neck and massaged her arse and then I carried her to the bed with my wilting cock still inside her. I laid her down and withdrew my cock. I pulled off the condom and straddled her face so she could clean my cum covered cock with her mouth.
Finally I stripped off my clothes and we lay down and snuggled together. Immediate passion spent but now enjoying just being together and the animal warmth we took from each other’s nakedness.
We talked about what we had just done. About the pain she had experienced, and how sexy it made her feel.
“It would never have occurred to me that being fucked up against a brick wall would be such a turn on. If I had thought about it at all I would just have thought it really uncomfortable, but it was amazing – as well as being really uncomfortable!” she smiled.
We talked about our sexual fantasies.
She was embarrassed about the depravity of some of hers, which were very masochistic.
As we discussed these ideas we agreed that there were at least two types of fantasies, and probably three.
Firstly there were the really dark and depraved ones which, despite being highly erotic because of their taboo nature, were things which one would never actually want to do in practice.
We agreed that it was really important to understand this. That just because you fantasise about something – and tell someone that – it doesn’t necessarily mean you want to put it in to practice. Women who have rape fantasies don’t actually want to be raped!
The second type is fantasies which actually you know you would like to try, and are just looking for an opportunity, and the third type are those where you are not quite sure whether you are brave enough to want to take the next step to put them into practice.
“I have lots of fantasies in the first category” she said “and I haven’t ever really admitted them to anyone. It becomes hard to reveal these things once you are in an established relationship – without frightening your partner – so I am telling you this now before you have a chance to form any more of an impression of me sexually. So you must promise not to be frightened- or even worse, laugh!”
I looked her in the eyes “I promise – and anyway, I am going to tell you mine in a minute, so I’ll have to be careful!”
She grinned and then buried her head back into my chest.
“Most of my fantasies are focussed on submission and forced sex of some kind.” she went on. Then, as though selecting items from a filing system, or books from a bookshelf, she reeled off a list of fantasy scenarios. They were not fully articulated. More a list of ideas that she would, presumably, flesh out in more detail in masturbatory solitude, but here being exposed to the light of day, to examination by another person, for the first time…spoken into my chest, avoiding eye contact…
“Slave girl and prisoner. Captured by barbary pirates and sold in the harems of North Africa.
Forced to please prospective clients in the slave market, or be tortured in punishment.
Made to stand naked on a plinth on display to prospective buyers.
Handled roughly by vicious, filthy, old men, testing the merchandise. Made to kneel naked before them and suck their old cocks, which stink, and need a huge amount of coaxing to bring them to life.
Forced to have sex with other female slaves for the entertainment of men.
Strung up by my wrists and whipped.
Forced to serve multiple men.
Given to visiting house guests as a form of hospitality.
Given as a prize to the winning gladiator team in the Roman Forum. Used over and over by these sweaty muscular men for hours at a time. Having no purpose except as a sex object.
Captured by vicious 20th century secret police of some despotic regime. Stripped and tortured with electric clamps on my nipples and vagina.”
She listed a few other examples that were, frankly, too extreme to include in this write-up.
“You get the gist? I know that in reality all of these would be absolutely horrific, and completely unerotic, but a small depraved part of my deeply buried psyche finds the ideas a huge turn on”
“I do understand. I am the same. There are things that turn me on that I know I wouldn’t want to do in real life. I don’t think we need to worry too much about explaining where these things come from – we just need to recognise them for what they – fantasies pure and simple”.
“And then there are the fantasies I absolutely do want to act out in real life.”
“Like what?”
“Like being spanked by a tall, dark handsome Englishman!” she grinned and kissed me on the lips.
“Hmm, that sounds like a good fantasy”
“And maybe being whipped with his belt, or even caned. Or maybe he makes a whip out of lightweight leather thongs, and whips my tits with it.
“So they are all linked, with the same themes, its just that the ones I actually want to act out are much tamer, more sexy versions of the themes – submission, punishment and coercion. But it has to be with someone intelligent and empathetic enough to understand the difference.”
As she spoke I slipped my hand between her legs and started to massage her pussy.
“And there is a third type.”
“Oh yes?”
“These are the ones I am not sure about. They aren’t crazy and dangerous, but I am just not quite sure whether I am brave enough to go through with them.”
“For instance?”
“Like having a threesome”
“Which kind?”
“Well, I was thinking with two men and me”
“I see. And what would happen?”
“Well the fantasy is that the two men use me for their pleasure. Take turns to fuck me in my pussy, in my ass. They make me suck their cocks and cum in my mouth, making me swallow. Then they fuck me at the same time. Both cocks in my pussy, and then one in my pussy and one in my ass simultaneously I have a massive fantasy about double penetration. Trouble is, am I actually brave enough to go through with it?”
“And who are these men? Your fiancé?”
“Yes, I think so. We have sort of discussed it in general terms.”
“And who is the other man?”
She looked at me coyly “maybe a certain Englishman?”
Suddenly the elephant in the room was too big to ignore and I said
“I was too selfish to ask earlier, but what is the situation with your fiance? How come you are in my bed tonight? Where is he?”
She looked at the ceiling, suddenly awkward again. Not looking me in the eye.
“We love each other, but in some ways we are not really sexually compatible. I have an incredibly high sex drive and – to be honest – some tastes which are not particularly mainstream. As you now know…”
She glanced at me “I like you because you are tall and strong and make me feel petite and sexy. As you know, my fiancé is shorter than I am and not exactly ripped. He is a very creative and sensitive lover, which is what I want most of the time, and I also love him as a person out of the bedroom. But I also need what you did to me just now – and frankly a lot more besides – and he doesn’t, and can’t really, give me that. It just isn’t in his make-up, and if he tried he would just be faking it.
Whereas with you I can tell that you genuinely enjoy dominating me, and you are good at it, especially because you do it in a way which, whilst rough, allows me to trust you. So I can relax and give myself to you, knowing that you are going to hurt and degrade me, but also knowing that you instinctively know how far you can go without actually scaring me. I can’t get that from my fiancé, and he knows that, but he knows I need it, so he is OK with me finding it elsewhere, as long as I tell him what I am doing.”
This had all come out in a rush. A sort of stream of consciousness. She paused.
“He knows I am with you tonight. I think he actually likes the idea of being a cuckold.”
“OK. That makes sense. Or at least it is all a bit clearer. Although it may seem a bit disingenuous to say this now, I am actually relieved that your fiancé knows about us. I don’t really like deceiving people – even though that didn’t stop me fucking you this evening, when the obvious assumption was that he was being deceived!”
“What other fantasises are in that third category?”
“Well, there is the other kind of threesome, with another woman”
“Aha yes- excellent!” I said in a comically lascivious tone “and what is stopping you pursuing that one?”
“The issue there is the worry about the other woman having a better body than mine”
“Are you serious?”
She looked at me “Yes.”
“Well I think that is very sad. You have the most amazing body I have ever seen. If you could find a woman who didn’t make you feel insecure would you do it?”
“Well, that’s the bit I don’t know. I think so. I would like to. But it is a bit Groucho Marx. It has to be someone who I find attractive enough to want to sleep with, but not have a better body than mine!”
She laughed at herself. “I know, I am difficult!”
“So what would that woman look like?”
“Well I suppose she would have a pretty face, but her body would be larger or fatter than mine – I realise I am shallow!”
“What if you didn’t have a choice. What if I were to make you sleep with her?”
She buried her face in my chest, and gripped me hard. She nodded. “Yes, maybe.”
“I do actually have someone in mind who I might introduce you to. Let me have a think about that. Maybe I could invite her to have a threesome with us..?”
“Well, we’ll see” she said pensively, and then continued.
“And then there are same gay men fantasies. I like watching gay porn. I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see why it should be so odd. All men seem to fantasise about lesbians – you obviously included! Why shouldn’t women fantasise about gay men? I actually would like to have that threesome when I am fucked by two guys who are bisexual. They fuck me and then start fucking each other. I’d like to watch my fiancé being fucked by the other guy. She buried her face in my chest to avoid looking me in the eye “would that still work for you?”
“Yes it might do actually” I said quietly.
“Have you ever had a gay experience?”
Nervously I said I had, but not for a few years.
She was intensely aroused by the idea and hugged me close. “That is so fucking hot. I would love to see you fucking another guy – especially my fiance.”
“What would he think about that?”
I think he is a closeted bisexual. He is certainly happy to watch gay porn with me, and is open to the threesome idea with another guy, but as far as I know he has not actually acted on that in real life.
Honestly I think he wants to be made to do it. He won’t do it of his own accord, but I think that in a threesome situation if the other guy – you? – were to “force” him he would comply. I would need to talk to him about it first to make sure he really is comfortable with that scenario”
My fantasies were quite nicely symbiotic with hers. The fundamental themes were similar / power exchange, inflicting pain, contractual sex in exchange for other benefits, sex with people who one doesn’t find attractive.
My “act out” versions were sort of watered down domestic versions of her slavery, rape and torture fantasies. All of mine had the essential element that the person submitting to the “rape”, “torture” and “punishment” actually was a willing participant in the scenario That willingness was what leant it its eroticism. So we saw enormous potential to indulge in safe, sane and consensual versions of her deepest, darkest desires.
We discussed all these things as we nuzzled together in the dark. Barely able to see each other’s face.
Unburdening of secrets that we hadn’t dared tell anyone before.
We chatted in like this for a long while, discovering each other.
In the course of this we both became aroused again and continued to talk as I slipped inside here and we closed the evening with a gentle missionary fuck.
Hungrily pressing our naked bodies together, her soft breasts pressed to my hard chest. My strong hands holding her face; kissing her gently as we made love. Our confessions had created an unusual connection in such a short time and we both knew there was a lot more to explore together…
(To be continued)