Author's note:
This story has a strong BDSM feel, but in a "sensual femdom" style. Which means that the female character does take control, but there are no chains, no whips, and no pain either.
The story deals mostly with teasing and cum control, not the orgasm denial in the usual BDSM sense, but just the control of when and how. If this is not your thing, please, move on.
A big THANK YOU goes to
TANSTAAFL58
for encouraging me to write and for editing this story.
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My first love. My only love. This is the story of us finding our way back together.
***
We used to date our junior year, then fell apart. After college we moved in the opposite directions — I went to grad school in Maryland, you took a job in Oregon. But a year ago we both found ourselves back in Boston. We met for coffee. Then for a movie. Then there was a party date. And then you tried to pick up where we left it all those years ago.
But time did not stand still for me. In college I was a timid girl, happy to be hugged and kissed. You were my first real boyfriend, but I did not like fucking much, cuddling felt much better.
Since then I discovered that I preferred to be the one in control. Not to leave it to a chance, but to decide on my own when it was time for cuddles, when I wanted to be fucked, or when I was going to be the one doing the fucking. Or teasing, turns out I like that the best.
And you... How do I bring this up with a man I loved a long time ago? You were taking me home after a party, there was a mess of hands and lips on the back seat of a cab, and then we were standing at my door. Kissing. I did not want to let you go and you did not want to leave. I fumbled for the keys. Somehow we got to the fourth floor without waking up the neighbours, opened the door, and...
And then it hit me. Clair, what are you doing?? You can't let this happen! You two are going to kiss your way to the bed, the clothes will be pulled off and then what? You will just lay under him and pretend to enjoy it? Fake an orgasm? Go back to being that sad and frustrated woman you were for a few years after college when you went through quite a few guys not finding any joy in sex?
Or are you going to be you, the real you? The one that knows exactly what she wants, when, and how. That derives great joy from the control. That loves giving pleasure that most men don't even know exists — the pleasure of complete submission to another.
I had to stop him before it was too late, before we went back to what we were before and ruined any chance of staying together. So, I did the only thing I could possibly do:
"STOP!"
I put all the power and steel I could possibly master in that one short word.
And you... reacted! You immediately stopped and let me go. Hands limp at your sides, you looked confused: "Why? What's wrong? Don't you want this? Don't you want ... me?"
"I do! I do want you, but... not like this."
I looked around the room. I knew what I needed to do, but did not want to scare you with my chest of toys. A scarf! That will do.
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course I do, why wouldn't I? Are you in trouble or something?"
"No, not that. Do you trust me not to hurt you?"
"Hurt me? How? What are you talking about?"
Oh, my, you had no idea! Well, you either were going to run or not, I did not really have much say in that.
"Come here, baby. I am going to tie a scarf over your eyes. Then I am going to take you by the hand, lead you to my bed, undress you, and lay you down. I will tie your hands to the headboard with another scarf and then we will have sex. This is what I am talking about.
Now, DO you trust me not to hurt you?"
You looked stunned. You tried to say something, but the words would not come out. And then... Then you did something I would not have expected in a million years. Very slowly you kneeled in front of me, put your hands behind your back and looked up at me.
"Yes, I do trust you. Always had, always will. I just did not know how to tell you that I was dreaming about this day for the past six years. What should I call you?"
"Clair, just Clair. I am still the same girls you knew in college, I was Clair then, I am still her now."
I took a wide winter scarf from the coat closet and brought it back to you.
"Here. Not too tight?"
"Just perfect...Ms. Clair."
I laughed: "OK, OK, "Ms. Clair" it is. Now get up!"
I took you by the hand. Somehow that simple touch felt completely different, but then it always did when I was in control. You felt it too, a shiver went through you body.
One step, another. It is hard to walk without seeing, but you managed not to stumble.
We stopped by the bed.
"I am going to unbutton your shirt, then take it off. Don't move, just stand still."
One button, another, ... The shirt opened up and I could not stop myself — I leaned in, kissed your throat and slowly kissed my way down. All the way to your belt.
You put your hands on your buckle, about to open it.
"STOP!"
Your hands dropped back to your sides.
"What did I tell you?
I
am going to undress you, not you. Hands behind your back, please... Good. Now keep them there. Can you do that?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
So it is Ma'am now, not Ms. Clair? OK, I can live with that.
I did not want to rush it, after all, there is only one first time for everything and this was
our
first time. The first time we were doing it
my
way. I slid my hands under the open shirt and put them on your shoulders — you were so tense! Maybe not afraid, but not relaxed in the least either.
I stepped even closer, my clothed breasts touching you. I remembered that your neck was your weak spot, so that looked like a good place to start. A kiss, a lick, a soft bite, move a fraction of an inch and start over — a kiss, a lick, a soft bite.. You moaned, your throat vibrating under my lips.
Yes, baby, feels good, doesn't it?
Without stopping my slow progress across your neck, I opened your shirt wider and moved it off your shoulders. Lower, lower, now it was hanging only on the cuffs and your linked in the hands. Perfect. Right where I want it to be.
I stepped back and you gave out another moan. The one of disappointment? Anguish? Already? I have not even started yet! Looks like patience is not your virtue.
"I am right here, baby," one hand on your chest, another on your belt.
You belly tightened up, showing off nice muscles. Belt undone, I pulled on it, getting it out of the loops. Nice heavy leather... will look good around your wrists. But that could wait, I wanted to get you naked first. I could see your hard shape through your jeans, so could not stop myself from caressing it. Just a light touch through all the fabric, but your gasp told me just how exited this all was making you.
Let's turn up the heat a little
. I stepped behind you, placed my palms on your chest and raised on my tip toes.
"Please, kick off your shoes," I whispered in your ear.
You had to lean back into me for balance, with your hands still behind your back, trapped between us, you did not have much of a choice. And that was exactly where I wanted you — looking at me for support, for balance.
Shoes off, you steadied yourself.
I slowly slid my hands lower and lower over your belly, I got to your jeans waistband and pulled them down, crouching behind you. They pooled at your feet.
"Step back out of them. Don't worry, I've got you,"
I stood up and again hugged you from behind. Then stepped back, extending my arms. Shakingly, you stepped out of your pants. You could not see, so I had to guide you, pulling you back into me.
True to yourself, you still favoured the same underwear — white cotton Calvin Klein briefs. They looked good on you, at least from the behind. I was sure that in the front your cock couldn't possibly be comfortable in its tight confinement.