The Diary Of A Submissive: A True Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

and sucked it forcefully I came loudly, fulsomely and with the such force that I saw stars. It was a revelation and it made me laugh out loud with the sheer joy of it. I was desperate to catch my breath and then do it all again.
    I looked down at him, still looking at me so seriously, and cupped the side of his face in my hand, stroking the down on his face. He smiled and turned his head to kiss my hand and I leaned down to kiss him before sinking down on the floor beside him, curling into him, close enough that he could feel my still-pounding heart. As I got my breath back and came back to earth, I felt his erection pressing against me, and this time when I moved my hand down he didn’t stop me. I undid his fly and pulled him free and leaned down to take him in my own mouth but he demurred.
    ‘Please, let me just be inside you.’
    I nodded quickly and moved on to my back as he grabbed a condom. It seemed rude to quibble when my own orgasm was still dissipating after all. He pushed inside me and that first moment of connection made me clench. He moaned and buried his face in my shoulder. I moved my hips, pushing him deeper, but before hebegan to move he undid my top and pulled my breasts out of my bra with a groan.
    His eyes were hungry as he stared at my hard nipples, but he couldn’t restrain a comment: ‘No matching spotty bra? I’m disappointed.’
    I stuck my tongue out at him and began moving more insistently underneath him, inadvertently making my breasts bounce more. He leaned down and cupped them in his hands, stroking them and kissing them, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn as he began to – finally – move himself.
    Our breathing grew ragged as we fucked. Everything else was unimportant but our movements, our connection to each other and our pleasure. Watching Ryan’s face lose its seriousness, to see him completely with his defences down was incredibly hot, and watching him come made me so close that my fingers sliding between us to touch my clit for just a second pushed me over the edge too.
    The next morning the only blot on the horizon was knowing that our relationship, even in these early stages, had a time limit. I was disappointed, upset even, but having spent the entire evening lying naked in his room, watching TV and drinking with pauses to kiss, grope and then fuck, I was absolutely adamant I was going to make the most of every moment he was here. Making hay while the sun shines.
    We began dating casually, although with his return to the States always hanging over us we had no plans for it to be a serious thing. He was a considerate lover, infinitely patient both when giving andreceiving pleasure. He patiently let me explore him and I grew confident as I licked and sucked his cock, stroking him for as long as I wanted, learning how to please him, what I enjoyed doing. However, I would never in a million years have picked him out as being into anything remotely kinky, which made what happened next my first lesson on not making assumptions about people.
    My first taste of kink, like many people’s I suppose, came from a good, sound spanking.
    I like to think I have a fairly good imagination. I certainly have, and I say this not so much with pride but as a statement of fact, a very dirty mind which means I’m more than happy to come up with alternate uses for innocent-looking objects. That, paired with my financial priorities at university – books and beer, not necessarily in that order – meant a lot of my favourite sex toys were repurposed household items.
    So I liked to think that surrounded by my own stuff, in my own room, there was nothing which could be picked up and used for nefarious purposes against me that I hadn’t already thought of and quite possibly played with, thank you very much. Which was why the hairbrush was such a big surprise.
    I have very thick hair and a lot of it. Not in a werewoman way – at least not when I ensure my daily routine keeps all the key parts