We dated when we were both 20-21, third year of uni. It was the first serious relationship for the both of us, and while we didn't lose our virginities together, we were the first people we really explored sex with.
The relationship lasted for 3 years and the breakup was my fault, it got very ugly. I didn't cheat on her or anything like that, but I had certain other issues at the time which made me a terrible partner. A ton of lies built up over the years, I had no way to deal with them and I sort of just broke up with her and then ghosted. I told her I loved her and that it was not her fault in the slightest, but I couldn't be with her anymore and then just went no contact. I'm a POS, I know. I don't think she ever got any real closure and kept trying to contact me for a few months after that. I never responded and she eventually stopped trying.
Fast forward almost a decade, we met randomly one Saturday morning in London (I had moved there for work). I had had ample time to process by then, so this time I didn't try to avoid her. I told her, as earnestly as I could, how truly sorry I was for the way that I treated her and that she didn't deserve it at all. We both ended up crying and embracing and we cancelled any plans we had for the rest of the day, because we felt we had to talk it out some more.
Talking to her was easy, it felt comfortable, familiar. She opened up, I opened up, more tears were shed, more hugging. We had coffee and then went for lunch, took a stroll though a park and finally found ourselves in a pub, talking about our lives, our pasts, our futures, how much we had changed since we last saw each other. Obviously we talked about us too, and I told her that I never really got over her, though we'd have ultimately been a bad fit together. She asked me what I meant and I told her that I was very different sexually from what she remembered, I had developed into a different person.
I didn't really want to turn the discussion to sex, but she was very interested and pressed me for more answers, telling me that even now, I owed her some honesty and some closure. After a bit of a back-n-forth, I ended up confessing I was rarely as dominant in bed as with her, preferring instead a more submissive role. She pressed me for more and more answers and I gave them. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the emotional load of reconnecting with her after all those years, maybe the fact that she seemed to have forgiven me, everything played their part in me opening up to her fully. In the end I told her, without going into any real detail, that everything that she enjoyed me doing to her back then (and she enjoyed some pretty rough and humiliating stuff) I enjoyed having those things done to me now.
She was incredulous and thought I was messing with her at first, but in the end she saw I was being honest with her for a change. She asked me if I was gay and I told her no, I just enjoy when women are doing those things to me. She pressed for more details about my sex life and asked when was the last time I had "proper sex" with a woman, meaning when was the last time I was dominant with one. I told her it had been years and we moved on from the subject.
We talked, laughed and drank some more, and then took another long walk before I asked her if she wanted to see my place. I just wanted to spend more time with her, even though we had already spent like half a day together, and I didn't really have any ulterior motives. Turns out *she* did though, cause her tongue was halfway down my throat the moment we stepped in the elevator. We got into my apartment and headed straight to bed, taking each other's clothes off, like we were in a fucking movie, except in movies the protagonist doesn't come up with whiskey dick.
She asked me what was wrong and I told her I'm going to need some time. She tried getting me hard with her hands to no avail, and then
moved down to suck me off, but I stopped her. She started crying. These weren't happy tears after meeting and forgiving a lover from the past, like those that we both shed earlier; these were frustration tears, trauma tears, how-the-fuck-could-I-be-so-stupid tears. She tried leaving, but I didn't want to let her go crying, after spending such a beautiful day together, so I tried to calm her down.
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In the end I succeeded; I held her in my arms and explained that, just like all those years ago, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her, it was all on me. I still thought she was attractive, I was just into different things, used to a different pace by now. She had calmed down enough to gently prod me for more details, which I reluctantly gave up. She asked me what could she do that would turn me on and told her she could let me eat her out to begin with.
She did and I went at it for a few minutes, before asking her to wrap her thighs around my head and squeeze lightly. She was fine with that and we started getting into it, until I brought her to an orgasm. I went up to kiss her and she felt my dick that was now properly hard, so she started jerking me off while we were making out. I asked her if she'd like to pull my hair a little and she did; before I knew it, she was arching my head back with one hand and biting my neck, while her other was going up and down on my cock. She finally straddled me, slid it inside of her, and then started grinding and moving back and forth. This was right up my alley, so I let her do her thing and she was cumming on my cock once more for the first time in almost a decade.
She collapsed on top of me and we spent a few moments like that, catching our breath. She started grinding after a while, but I felt myself going soft again, something she recognized too. This time I was quick to act though and I took one of her hands and placed it around my throat. She looked kinda weirded out, but she went along with it and squeezed. It wasn't much, but the act was enough to get me hard again and she continued grinding with renewed vigor once she felt me growing inside her.
Unfortunately, no one had taught her how to choke properly and she was crushing my windpipe, so I tried to move her hand away. She didn't take it off though; she kept it right there and put even more pressure while she continued riding me, which both turned me on and worried me. In the end I jerked my head away and started sucking air greedily as she kept grinding on me, but her hand quickly returned. I didn't object, I just looked up at her face, only to find her expression was more wooden and weirded out this time around. While she was visibly turned on up until a few minutes ago, this time her face looked indifferent, as if this was something she was doing as a favor for me, going through the motions.
I jerked my head away again, wanting to ask her if everything was alright and to tell her that we didn't have to do anything she was uncomfortable with, but she slapped me and then placed her hand on my throat once more. I swallowed my words, partly because this was incredibly unexpected and partly because it was also insanely hot to me.
"Is this really what you like?" she asked me, with an almost disappointed expression on her face. I nodded 'yes' reluctantly and she immediately stopped grinding and squeezing my throat, instead choosing to stand upright with my dick still inside her. She stared down at me for a few moments, with an unreadable expression in her face.
I didn't know what to do or say, the only thing I could do was stare back up at her and let her make up her mind.
She finally asked me if I wanted to cum, in the same indifferent tone. I responded that I did, but only if she wanted me to. I could tell something was wrong and that some cogs were turning in her mind, but at the same time, I did hope she'd make me cum - we had been going at it for quite a while after all. She kept silent for a few more moments, until she finally got off of me and I felt the cool air on my dick, still glistening with her juices.
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She went over to my desk and came back with my laptop, asking me to show her what makes me cum.
I told her I wasn't comfortable with that, to which she responded that she might as well leave in that case. My dick was still erect and she was still naked, so the last thing I wanted was to make her leave, so I reluctantly turned on my laptop.
I asked her why did her mood change so quickly, but she didn't respond; she just urged me to show her what I liked on my laptop. I went to open a browser and as I did, I felt my face burning with shame, I just couldn't really do it.
I tried negotiating with her, tried verbally explaining what I was into, but she wouldn't have it. In the end I gave up; I navigated to a folder where I had some of my favorite femdom vids downloaded, opened it and gave the laptop to her. She put her shirt and underwear on and sat down on the bed next to me to view them. I couldn't bear watching the screen, so I just put on my underwear as well and then tried deciphering her expressions as she watched the vids.
I could see curiosity in her, anger, disappointment... a myriad of feelings at the same time. The one thing I didn't see was excitement; her face kept darkening and darkening, until she teared up at some point, looking to me with a pitiful expression on her face.
"It really is true then, you weren't messing with me," she said, blinking the tears away from her eyes.
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I took a few moments. In the end I tried apologizing, though anything I said didn't even seem to register with her. She spent the next few minutes staring blankly at a frozen frame of a porn vid on the screen and then, inexplicably, she somehow cheered up on her own. She half-smiled and said it was a good thing, and that yeah, she agreed that we ultimately wouldn't have been a good fit together. I felt my heart sinking at her words, but she quickly continued, saying that she owed me an orgasm.
I told her I wasn't in the mood anymore, but she pointed to my still semi-hard dick, saying it might be fun and that I should see it as a final present. I knew she wasn't really in the mood for sex, even though she seemed honest. I declined once more and asked her to get dressed, but then she said something that rooted me on the spot.
"Do you have a strap-on?" she asked cheerily.
Cogs started turning in *my* head this time. I definitely didn't trust her mood and I wasn't even sure I wanted to do anything sexual anymore with her, but it's not every day that a girl asks if you have a strap and shows a willingness to use it; the opportunity was too good to pass up. The end result of that indecisiveness was that I just stared at her like an idiot for a few moments, before pointing to the bedside drawer near her.
She opened the drawer and took out its contents. The image of the dildo in her delicate hands turned me on inadvertently, and before long I was once again pitching a tent in my underwear. She didn't seem to pay attention to me, being more preoccupied with figuring out how the harness worked, so I went to help her. I kneeled beside her, helping her legs thought the harness as I asked her if she was sure and what was she getting out of this. She said she was sure and then playfully told me to shut up and fasten up the straps if I wanted to cum.
My heart was pounding in my chest by that point, so I did as I was told and made sure the dildo was securely placed in her hips. She wasted no time and guided it in my mouth, telling me once more that it's going to be fun and to try not to worry. I opened up and she immediately shoved it in, placing a hand behind my head, causing me to gag.
"Easy..." I told her when she pulled it out of my mouth, but she paid me no mind and shoved it in again harder, pushing even more on the back of my head. I gagged once more and slapped her thigh to get her to release me, but to no avail. She thrust her hips forward, causing a *GLUCK* sound to escape my throat as the head of the dildo tried to pry its way in. Tears flooded my eyes and I coughed loudly around the strap, sending spit flying from the corners of my mouth. I decided I had enough so I pushed off against her thighs and managed to get away from her grip. No sooner had the plastic dick exited my mouth however, than an excruciating pain emerged from my balls. She had kicked me. Hard.
I folded up from the pain right in front of her feet, moaning loudly as she got away from me. I tried to brace myself against the bed to stand up, but another kick landed from behind, rendering me helpless. I collapsed on the floor and began to cry in a semi-fetal position. My mind went blank with the pain, I almost couldn't understand what had just happened, I couldn't anticipate what she'd do next, couldn't defend myself.
"Up, c'mon, up!" I heard her say, before bending over and grabbing a fistful of hair for the second time that evening. I got up on my knees, trembling and shaking, as she lined up the strap with my mouth once more. She used her foot to spread my legs and then pushed down on my shoulders, bringing me level with her the strap, and then pulled me in. The dildo found its way to the back of my mouth, slamming against my tonsils, eliciting get another loud cough from me. She used both hands behind my head this time and pulled in as hard as she could, as I was moaning and crying on my knees in front of her, trying to weather the assault on my throat.
She began moving her hips back and forth, essentially fucking my face with shallow thrusts, as I was trying to get used to the length. And then she started talking. A torrent of words came out from her mouth, but I could only register small phrases, with all the constant sounds I was making.
"...I can't believe I pined after someone so pathetic for all those years..."
