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The Making of a Submissive: Part 2

"Continuation of my journey into submission"

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Touch football had been left behind, my life now consumed with academic studies, and learning about myself as well as Barb; her likes, her dislikes, and of course her hot buttons. She was particularly fond of Friday nights in my ’48 Dodge, Bessie, out on the old road, our favorite makeout spot. It was rarely travelled, very secluded, a perfect spot to engage in Sex Ed long before it was taught in school. We would crawl into the backseat, me kneeling on the floor, her straddling my head. I was addicted to her scent and taste and ate her every chance I got. On those weekends where, for hygienic reasons, I could not feast myself on her orange fringed cunt, we would trade places and she would tease me unmercifully with her fingers and tongue, finishing me off with her mouth wide open and my cock pouring its creamy contents therein. God help me if I missed!

We had yet to go any farther, the fear, and stigma of pregnancy, keeping us from consummating our relationship. I was perfectly fine with that, knowing that at some point that bridge would be crossed, at her suggestion rather than mine, and when we did, I was sure that it would be an utterly mind blowing experience. She was the dominant in our relationship, my role being that of pleaser, getting most of my jollies from knowing that I had done a good job of getting her off.

We were in the habit of going to the football games, ducking out at half-time, playing in the car, and returning for the end of the game, thus being able to relate our evening to our parents, leaving out the juicy parts.

One particular Friday Barb asked if I could get my hands on a condom. I assured her that I had enough friends that it would not be an issue. There was no way in hell I could go to the local pharmacy as the owner was personal friends with my parents. I borrowed one from my friend Bill who extracted a high price for this great favor. I owed him a night with my car, knowing that he would be doing much the same as I, in the back seat. I secretly wondered if there would be any evidence the following day when Bessie was returned.

I picked her up at six. Her mother made sure I was aware that Barb had to be in by 11, since she had to work an overnight at the hospital. I assured her that I would have Barb home on time, and we took off for the local pizzeria. On the way she had me stop while she struggled to remove her bra without taking off her blouse, a feat of engineering that I couldn’t quite figure out until she pulled it out from her armpit and stuffed in her purse.

With one hand on the gearshift knob and the other on the wheel, all I could do was drive, my mind engaged in guessing which, if any of my fantasies, if any, would come to pass. Needless to say, my pants were fully tented for the entire trip.

Fully aware that I had to concentrate on driving, Barb took advantage of the situation, resting her hand in my lap. Giving my rigid cock a squeeze, she teased, “Expecting some fun tonight?”

“That would be nice.”

“And what makes you think you’re getting lucky?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the Trojan in my wallet?” I winked.

She gave it a painful pinch. “We can’t have that walking into the pizza parlor ahead of you. What would people think?”

The pinch had the desired, by her at least, effect of deflating my hard-on as we walked in. The place was packed with couples sitting in the booths, the juke box blaring Sam Cooke singing ‘Bring It On Home To Me’. We sat on the same side of the booth. It was easier to play that way. We ordered. We ate. We went to the game, but didn’t go in right away. We parked at the far end of the lot. There were a few other cars there with steamed up windows; other like-minded couples looking for some privacy, more interested in the submarine races than the football game.

Since she had demonstrated how to remove a bra without taking off her blouse, I assumed that, at some point, I would get to see those magnificent tits of hers. She did not disappoint. Unbuttoning the blouse and giving me a clear view of the swell of her breasts, I asked permission to kiss them. “Since you were gentleman enough to ask, why, of course you may.” She said, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me tight to her cleavage. She smelled of Shalimar and I filled my lungs with the sweet scent as I kissed my way up each soft fleshy hill on the way to her hyper-sensitive nipples.

While I was paying attention to her upper body, she was paying attention to my lower, loosening my belt, unzipping my jeans, and freeing my manhood from its cotton prison. Her soft, warm hand on my shaft felt like heaven as it slid softly up and down my length. A couple of drops of pre-cum oozed from the tip, prompting her to warn me, “Remember, you don’t cum until I tell you that you can. Or else.”

The threat did not go unnoticed, or unheeded. After our first time together, I had let go once before seeking permission, and our session ended abruptly, with me being dismissed and sent home. Since then, she had engaged in some serious edging, bringing me to the brink and backing off several times a night. On those occasions when I was allowed to cum, the sensation was almost dizzying. When I wasn’t allowed, I had to promise not to jack off when I went home. Knowing that the rewards generally outweighed to disappointments, I learned to follow her instructions, to the letter. Tonight would be no different.

I acknowledged her by humming into her breast, my lips firmly attached to her nipple, while my hand explored the other, my fingertips plucking, pulling, rubbing, bringing it to full stiffness. She pulled my hand away, bringing it down to her knee, whispering, “Go for it!” I looked up into her eyes, raised my head and kissed her.

My hand floated up under her skirt, along the inside of her thigh until my fingertips encountered her cotton panties. I could feel some dampness as my fingers caressed the cotton, which had slid up into the crevasse of her cunt. I rubbed her through the fabric, feeling it getting wetter and feeling as much as hearing her moans as we kissed, tongues dancing inside each other’s mouths. I pulled her panties aside, my fingers running the length of her slit, spreading her juices from her clit to her hole. “Inside.” She said, “I want you to make me cum.” I was now kissing her neck, feeling her pulse as my fingers slipped slowly inside, feeling her heat as they disappeared.

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Even though this was not the first time I had done this, I was amazed at how tight she was, her cunt clasping on my fingers, not wanting them to leave. My thumb brushed against her clit as my fingers delved deep inside, causing her to moan. “Ohhh! Yeah! Don’t stop!”

While she was moving rapidly toward an orgasm, her hand on my cock was bringing me ever closer to my own. Afraid of ruining the moment, I began doing math problems in my head, trying to get my mind off the situation. Part of me wanted to get her off first, and part of me wanted to explode. She seemed to read my mind and pinched, deflating me instantly. My frustration level skyrocketed, but I knew it was for the best. What I wanted most was to please, knowing that my pleasure level would rise as hers did.

Nibbling on her earlobe, I kept up my assault on her cunt, thumb strumming her clit, fingers plunging in and out, her juices dripping onto the seat. Then, my fingers started to cramp. So I curled and uncurled them, trying to make the pain go away without pulling them free. “Oh fuck! That feels so good!” she panted, grabbing my wrist and holding it tight to her as I continued flexing. Gasping, she came all over my hand, leaving a wet spot on the back seat.

When she had recovered, she let my hand free and I brought it to my lips and tasted, savoring the musky flavor. “You like my taste?” she asked.

“What’s not to like.”

No answer. She pressed her lips to mine, licking whatever surfaces she could. “I guess I do taste pretty good.” The kiss deepened. When she broke it, she added, “One good turn deserves another.” And she dropped her head to my crotch, engulfing my cock, her tongue swirling around the head. She came up for air and said, “You have my permission to cum, but just warn me, OK?”

I nodded as she went back down. To the point where I felt the back of her throat against my helmet. My hands gravitated to her bare breasts, caressing and kneading as I lost myself in the moment. It did not take long before the urge to cum became urgent. I managed to blurt out “Gonna cum!” seconds before the first surge of sperm shot from my slit onto her tongue, followed by two more. I was, indeed dizzy from the act, it was so intense.

After she sucked the dregs from my wilting shaft, she sat up, took my head in her hands and kissed me. Her lips and tongue were salty and a bit bitter, but I knew enough, not to complain. We re-dressed and wandered over to the stadium to catch up on the progress of the game.

We won the game and I took her home, arriving at 10:30, well before her curfew. She invited me in and we discovered a note from her mom. It read: “Had to go in early. See you in the morning. Love. Mom.”

Barb smiled and looked at me with a devilish twinkle in her eye. “Do you still have that condom?”

“Yup!”

“Good. I was going to do you in the car, but this is even better! Follow me.” She grabbed my hand and led me to her bedroom. “I want you to undress me.”

I stood before her, unbuttoning her blouse slowly. With each button, more and more of her bosom came into view, making my cock twitch. She shrugged it off her shoulder, letting it float to the floor. I unbelted her skirt and it soon followed the blouse, pooling at her feet. There she stood in panties, knee socks and loafers. I was salivating!

“I love the way you look at me.” she said. “It’s like you can’t get enough.”

I managed to croak, “If you’ll sit in your chair, I’ll take off the rest.”

“No. I want you to fuck me with them on, but you can help me by taking these off.” She said, snapping the waistband of her panties.

I dropped to my knees and crawled up close, rolling them off her hips, down her thighs. She stepped out of them and stood there. I stared at her, taking in the whole picture. Shoes, socks, strawberry bush, ample and gorgeous ass, and those breasts that seemed to go on forever.

She backed up, sat on her bed and bade me to come closer. She stripped off my shirt, tee shirt, jeans and shoes. Scooting up to the edge of the bed, she said, “You haven’t kissed my cunny tonight.”

Naked, I dropped to my knees and started kissing her thighs, moving slowly toward where they joined together. Her bush tickled my nose as my tongue traced her lips. I breathed deeply, taking in the scent left over from earlier in the evening. Her hands molded to my head, holding me tight to her tasty and aromatic pussy. I feasted for several minutes, my lips and tongue working in concert with my fingers to bring her off for the second time tonight.

Moving up on the bed, her hair splayed out on the pillow, she crooked her finger at me and said, “Fuck me!”

Quickly retrieving the condom from my wallet, I rolled it on and crawled between those hefty, beautiful thighs. She grabbed my shaft and pulled it toward her eagerly waiting cunt. I slid slowly in, reveling in each glorious inch as I sunk into her molten depths. “This time you’re in charge.” She said.

I lowered my head, capturing her left nipple in my mouth as I started to churn my hips. Slowly at first, gathering speed with each thrust, I felt her legs wrap around my waist, her heels kicking me each time I bottomed out. Her hands raked across my back. My mouth covered her breasts with bites and kisses. My hips churned, deep and fast. With my face buried in her sweet cleavage, I grunted as I came, filling the condom with my essence. Her fingers drew blood as they scratched across the center of my back. I pulled out slowly, not wanting the condom to fall off, wrapping it in a tissue. I lay down on my back and she snuggled up, her fingers playing with my spent cock, her breasts rubbing my chest.

We drifted off to sleep, waking up around 3. I reluctantly got dressed and headed for home. “Any more Saturday nights like that, and I just might have to keep you around.” She said as she crawled back to bed.

Thus began my desire to be dominated. I knew I had found what I wanted; a woman to please, any way she wanted, secure in the knowledge that I would get rewarded for meritorious service. Ever since then, I have been attracted to strong women. Women who know what they want and aren’t afraid to ask, no, to demand it.

Published 
Written by AGreyFoxxx
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