I knew I wanted to write tonight, but was struggling to focus on just one idea. I texted a friend to ask for a prompt and while they didn’t have anything to suggest, I did remember an idea I shared with them a few months ago. Wine and wanking followed, while I edited my writing. So, let’s set the scene. I’m lying in bed next to you, after an afternoon of fucking. Sun is streaming through the window, and I’ve just had an idea…
I lie there next to you, contemplating my plan, and then roll onto my side so I’m facing you. I do my cute, evil smirk. You look interested, and prop yourself up on one elbow to look at me better, while I give a little delighted wriggle as something else occurs to me. “My go?” I ask, and you nod, understanding my question. I push your shoulder back, and climb on top of you so I’m leaning down over you. “What was that, pretty thing?” I ask, going for my low, sexy voice. You smile. “Yes ma’am,” you correct yourself, and I reward you with a kiss of surprising intensity. “I had a thought,” I say when I sit back, “Because I think it’s unfair that I am the only one who has to swallow.”
I’m smirking now, and you wonder where this is going. “It’s very unfair, wouldn’t you say? You can suck me off, kneeling between my legs so beautifully, and let me fuck that pretty, little arse, but when you fuck my mouth, you make me swallow your come. And I don’t think that’s fair.”
You’re still confused, but you’re always up for trying whatever new filthy thought I’ve alighted on. I know the oh-so casual way I’ve mastered of slipping from my role as your little slut to the one who is in charge – cocky, confident, and sexy as fuck – is almost always guaranteed to arouse you.
I shift position slightly, beginning to gently bite and kiss my way down your neck. When I reach your collarbone, I stop and look down at you again. “Do you think that’s fair, pretty thing?” There’s still curiosity in your face, but you give the dutiful answer: “No ma’am, I don’t think it’s fair.” I smile, and reward you by nibbling on your bottom lip. “You don’t swallow, do you, pretty thing?” My voice is low, teasing. “No ma’am?” “Say it for me pretty thing. Tell me you don’t swallow.” Your voice still has a tinge of uncertainty, but it’s also got the turned-on tone that matches the lust in your eyes: “I don’t swallow, mistress,” you tell me.
“Good, and I trust you not to lie to me, so…” I sit up, so I’m straddling your hips and begin to work my ring off my finger. Just as I had done the previous night.
I hope you are remembering what I’d done to you then: made you suck on my fingers, and worked them into your arse, opening you up. I’d worked your smallest plug inside you and sent you off – with a sharp smack to your arse, purely to illustrate it was mine that night, oh, and because I liked watching you clench around the plug – to find my strap-on harness and my favourite dildo for fucking you with. (Smaller, I sometimes pointed out, than the one you sometimes used on me.) I’d then ordered you to help me into the harness and get on your knees… god, arousal was dripping down my legs as you sucked my black cock. I’d ordered you on all fours, and replaced the small plug with the slightly larger dildo, so you feel that pleasurable stretch. And then I fuck you until you’re desperate and begging…
That was last night, and I’m sure that’s where your mind goes as I remove the ring again – in fact I can feel you tensing and am sure your cock is getting harder. I smirk. “Open up, pretty thing,” I order, and with definite confusion you obey. I drop the ring into your mouth. “Close your mouth.” I say, still smiling sweetly. “That’s the ring my grandmother gave me on my 18th birthday. But I can trust you, can’t I, because you don’t swallow. Don’t hold it between your teeth, that could damage it. Relax pretty thing.” I stroke your throat, in the same way one would if one was tricking a dog into swallowing a pill. Your eyes plead with me. “You’re such a good pretty thing for me, of course you won’t swallow, will you?”
You nod, trying to keep as still as possible with the cool metal in your mouth. And I stand, move away from you, and for a few minutes gather some items together and put them by the side of the bed, just out of your line of sight. You’re lying there tensed, and I smirk at you as I climb back onto the bed – this time pushing your legs apart, so I can sit between them. Giving you my most wicked grin, I take your cock in your mouth.
What follows is a session of teasing: enormous fun for me, highly uncomfortable and arousing for you. I kiss and lick and touch your body. I touch myself, enjoying the strangled look on your face as I make my ‘ooh, my fingers are inside me’ moan – and then suck those same fingers, lift your legs, and start working one of them into your arse. Then a second. Then gently fucking you. Then sucking your cock at the same time.
By the time I decide I’ve teased you enough, you’re writhing and whining despite the ring in your mouth. All the while I’ve been reminding you that you don’t swallow, especially at the moments you seem most desperate. It’s a reminder that I’m fucking with your mind as well as your body. Now I work my way back up to your face and tug your bottom lip to allow me proper access to kiss your mouth. When I pull back – a long torturous minute later – I’m smiling.
“Open up again, pretty thing,” I say, and you open your mouth with a somewhat relieved look. I fish the ring out. I smirk. “You’re so good for me, pretty thing. So obedient. I think you’ve definitely earned the right to come.” “Thank you, mistress,” you say, but I don’t relinquish control quite yet. “Want me to put this back on?” I say teasingly, waving the ring in front of you. “Yes, please, ma’am,” you say, and I grin.
“Excellent, because I’d like to be wearing it when I spank you later…” At my daring look, you take the challenge and flip us over, and don’t hesitate before thrusting into me. I smile against your neck as you fuck me. That was fun.
Image sourced through Pixabay.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.