In the past, Alessandra may have been confused, she'd made some false starts, but she always felt an inner guide, a strong, magnetic force in her that allowed her to find her path. The first time a man had grabbed her hair and pulled as he fucked her, it felt like a hidden map had lit up inside her brain, a flash of it that showed her a long voyage of discovery, a deep dive into her sexuality, and that she was only at the beginning. She left vanilla behind without a whisper of doubt. She found, at first, difficulty in discerning which men had that dominant, aggressive, boundary-pushing streak that she craved--she was a subtle creature, though, and began to hear the subtext when a man spoke, to sift through their words and separate the gold of assured, knowledgeable competence from the dross of bluster, arrogance, and unreliable volatility.
She reconciled the tension in her between her generous submissiveness, eager to not just please but fulfill, and her clear knowledge that she had vast, unquenchable fountains of need herself. By her third year of college, she knew monogamy was not an option for her, that she not only could connect simultaneously sexually with more than one partner without in any way diminishing the connection with either, and she needed this part of herself to be seen, even celebrated; no matter how deliciously dominant the man, if he couldn't accept that part of herself, she regretfully ended things.
She had incredible, intense sessions, slammed up against a wall and taken so hard it knocked her breath away. She learned how hearing dirty words pour into her ear was delirium-inducing poison, making her feel the most wonderful helpless, bewitched by the words. Old books of magic held that speaking a person's true name was powerful, and she discovered she had many names close to true: Slut, fucktoy, perfect little bitch. Not just the words on her own, but the reverberations in mens' voices as they said them with the right intonation, seeing her, showing her their immediate, undeniable need for her.
Her first female lover she met as a junior in college, while talking about this side of her, confessing to a friend. Alessandra always noticed her friend's Katie's predilection for chokers and clothing that incorporated D-rings, but it was when she spent the night on Katie's couch that she noticed the small library of D/s erotica displayed unashamedly on the bottom shelf of her bookcase. Alessandra had slipped out a slim volume and read it, with her other hand slipping down between her legs, an extra dimension of arousal knowing that Katie was like her. The next morning, over excellent coffee, she told her the book she'd read, and that she liked it, and Katie's startled response had quickly slid into curiosity, met mutually by Alessandra. First, they satisfied the curiosity with words, asking about experiences, about limits, but it wasn't long until it was searing looks followed by hands landing where the eyes had been.
Her mind first captured the firm, lithe feeling of Katie under her hands, the surprisingly different quality of feeling the weight of Katie's breasts in her hands. All her senses seemed so alive and present, she was aware of every iota of her skin that was in contact with Katie's softness. When Katie's aggressive energy rose and she plucked Alessandra's nipples between her fingers, grinning at the reaction, Alessandra felt as submissively captured as she ever had with a man. Katie rode that wave of pleasure she'd started, pushing Alessandra down on the couch and working her hand inside Alessandra's jeans, the pressure of the waistband helping to make the contact even more electric. Alessandra came for her like that, one hand grabbing Katie's forearm, the other flung out over her head in submission, in victory
In the rebound from the orgasm, Alessandra felt a spike of competitive urge that lit more dominance in her than she had felt before. She pulled Katie's hand to her mouth, tasting herself on it, eyes fixed on Katie's. Katie was only wearing loose pajama bottoms, and Alessandra wanted them off, wanted to see what she was doing. Years later, she'd always be able to remember that first moment of Katie's thighs parting for her, the first time she put her mouth down on another girl's pussy. Enthusiasm and empathy combined to allow her to give Katie a joyful experience, and Alessandra turned going down on her into a dominant move, putting her hands under Katie's ass and pulling her half-up off the couch, tongue-fucking her deep while making eye contact. She was proud and smiling when Katie's thighs began to tremble as she held them apart, and then she saw her friend riven and exposed by orgasm, her face transformed.
That encounter unlocked something else in her, or gave her a new perspective; not just that women should be happily included in exploration, but that she might have even more kinks unknown to her, ready to swing down like meteors and rearrange the orrery of her sexuality. She discovered some on her own, through reading erotica, watching porn, or simply remembering a fuck she'd had and turning the gain up, imaginging the intensity increases, or the intersection of some other dynamic. She had a years-long relationship with a woman that opened up threesomes to her, a whole host of new dynamics at play there. The other woman left for grad school, and Katie kept fucking the two men, themselves grad students a little older then her.
Unexpectedly, she made a potent connection with a dominant older man. It surprised her how intense it was, given how much she was already receiving, but that was just more information about her polyamorous nature revealed to her. He was the first to wrap a hand around her throat confidently and pin her like that while taking her, the first to whisper to her in public what he'd do to her at home. He was more than fifteen years older than her, and that contrast was more exciting, more present than she had thought.
They had been safe, he always used a condom; his maturity in that was meaningful to her. But one night, out of condoms, they found themselves in a spiral of arousal that seemed to have no end. Pulling away from each other just increased the need, when she put her mouth on him to try to release the gigantic urge, when he said "I absolutely need to be inside you," she agreed, it was absolutely what she needed, what had to happen. What she wasn't prepared for was the moment of clarity as his naked cock pushed into her fertile young body: She wasn't aroused despite the risk, but by the risk, by the concept and total reality of his big cock pumping into her. She was face down, her ass up, and she was making guttural, urgent noises, pushing her hips back to slap her ass down into him, straddling him but facing away from him. She wanted every stroke to be heaven for him. His low voice was telling her how much he needed this, how good she looked under him, how absolutely right it felt to fuck her raw like this; she squirmed her face back to look him in the eye and nodded, too cock-drunk to speak, sending a clear signal to his primal brain. She felt his cock swell in her and her heart sang as the first jet of cum pumped into her, but his mindful self gained control and with a roar he pulled out of her, one more jet splashing onto her pussy lips, the rest onto her back. So much of it; if he had stayed inside her, her mind said to her, clear in the chaos of the arousal she felt, he'd have surely, surely impregnated me, and I still might be.
He held her a long time after, and then they spoke. He told her that first moment had been one of the hottest things he'd ever experienced, and she nuzzled her face into his chest in happiness. The time before the pregnancy test felt oddly calm to her: it was binary, one way or the other. When she saw the negative result, and confirmed it the next day, she didn't feel disappointment, but another part of her path lighting up in her brain: She needed that. Not just the moment of his cum inside her, but the potency of it there, what it would actually bring. She truly wanted to be bred, to not just play with it. But to do that, first she'd have to play, to find the landscape she wanted to inhabit.
