I think I would get this way, too, if I were in the position of having to dominate someone. The role would feel so foreign to me that I might overdo it to the point of being theatrical.
dominance
Lately, she had been so busy. She was neglecting herself, her needs, just to strive toward the end of all the work she had to do. She have become so consumed in her business that she had completely forgotten that she had arranged for him to join her that night for dinner.
He understood the situation immediately when she opened the door, looking half-surprised and half-ashamed. She assumed she was being punished when he closed the door behind himself and ordered her to strip. She braced herself for the worst when he bent her over her bed. And, yet, nothing.
First, it was just his fingers trailing over her body. Then both hands. Just exploring, navigating the tension and easing it out in firm dips and slides. She could feel herself giving over to him, to his touch, and she soon relaxed, even as he threaded his fingers in her hair.
As her head was yanked back, she felt that final pang of release as she gave herself and her troubles over to him. And, at last, she was at ease.
He owns both of them, but the girl on the couch had a previous hard limit about being with girls. She insists she’s straight, but after today, she’s going to be having some second thoughts. Of course, she’ll deny them until she’s blushing and humiliated as she shivers with orgasm beneath the bottom bitch’s skilled tongue again and again.
See, I could use this kind of discipline right now.
I could also use the kind of discipline that would make me work on my gosh-darn term papers.
“I told you I was curious. I never said that I was brave.” – Leonard Cohen, in the song “So Long, Marianne”.