Tender Domination

This is an excerpt from a story I’ve been working on for a book release. I’d love to get your thoughts on it.

Mark and I sat on our front porch bench swing, looking out at the expanse of chaparral visible from our wrap-around porch. Land use restrictions and timely research had landed us this location that looked and felt isolated, despite being mere minutes from town. The openness always made me think back to rugged times and hearty people. A past where people often made life-forming decisions with the conviction to carry them out.

We had agreed to such a decision within our relationship, that of my dominance in our sex lives. I became the decision maker on what, when, and how. My actions were never heartless, nor demeaning beyond the boundaries we had agreed to, but they were decisive and not to be challenged.

Our isolation gave me plenty of options for delightful fun within those boundaries. Our access gate was tucked behind a knoll, and there was a comfortable distance to our property fences. This meant that I could roam free without the concern of prying eyes. Make love wherever I choose. And be playful.

One example happened just last month, when Mark varnished the porch rails. I had him do it with only a tool belt and boots on while I lounged on the porch swing in a muslin see-through sundress. He would try to catch glimpses of me, especially when I had the dress positioned to expose my lack of underthings. I, of course, would chastise him about staying focused.

“Don’t get anything on you where it will be painful to remove,” I’d remind him.

He took great care not to avoid that. I took great interest in watching his muscles flex in the sunlight. The temperate weather was perfect for the work, and eliminated any risk of sunburn or chill. I kept him hydrated and nourished, and acknowledged his efforts by edging his cock during breaks. I loved seeing him bask in my attention, only to struggle when returning to work with a temporarily stiff member.

Once he finished, I inspected his efforts. It was no surprise that his handiwork was exceptional, and as such, he was entitled to the promised reward. We walked over to our outdoor solar shower, where I removed his toolbelt and milked his cock while massaging his prostate with a soapy finger.The build-up throughout the day emerged as a stream of jizz that shot upward against his face and neck.

After toweling him down, he went into the house, emerging shortly in a T-shirt and button fly’s. I’d poured his favorite bourbon, and handed it to his as we sat on the porch swing together. I watched his sip the amber liquid, reminded how I loved the look of my man and the lust he generated inside of me. It was that dichotomy that made being dominant so rewarding. Controlling my urges while controlling him made my blood rush and orgasms ring out.

I eased back to savored the late afternoon breeze that caressed my body, still naked under the sundress. A brief gust reminded me of the cooling conditions that would accompany the sunset, but also just how hot and restless I was from the day’s activities. I eased back, closed my eyes, and splayed my legs so the wind could caress my shaved vulva as we gently rocked. Mark just sat quietly, aware of exactly what I was doing, while letting me take in all the pleasures nature was affording me. I knew it was only a matter of time before his primal urges would show themselves again.

When I felt the bench wiggle sideways from his adjusting, I suspected I had achieved my intended results. A peek at his crotch confirmed that a ridge had formed against his thigh. He was hard. I was ready.

I leaned over to grab a couple of pillows, then reclined against one corner of the bench, left arm draped along the top and right leg overhanging the edge.

“Worship my pussy, Mark.”

His expression mimicked that of a child getting a much-wanted icy treat on a warm summer’s day. He slid back a bit, then leaned forward. I raised my hips so he could raise the sundress above my hips. Then he lowered his mouth to indulge in my sweetness.

Mark was excellent at oral sex, and would contort as needed to pleasure me whenever I called for it. Today was no exception. My semi-naked, tanned body glowing, its glistening vulva seducing him in.

His artistic movement elicited affirmations from me. “Yes, Mark,” I said, “soothe my pussy with your lips. I want you to be especially attentive to her. Let her know how much she’s adored.”

Mark took my encouragement and ran with it. His ability to express himself during sex was my biggest turn-on about him when we met. It’s what made me want to go beyond and give him all the pleasure I could create for him. Even in games of submission, I made sure he knew I still loved him. That no one could ever steal away the commitment I had to him and to us.

“Baby, I need more now,” I whimpered. He increased his rhythm and pressure until I gave a long moan.

“Yes, baby. That’s a good sub. Do well, and you’ll get a special treat.”

He did, causing me to grab his hair and pull him tight. My thighs joined in, squeezing him tight as I bucked and wailed through a long, pleasurable orgasm. Once sated, I released him for the aftercare my pussy enjoyed. My clitoris was always hypersensitive after an orgasm, and Mark had learned just how to massage my labia until I was content.

I eased off of the bench, then told him to place the bench cushion on the porch, drop his pants, and lay on it. “Hurry, before I change my mind,” I said to him. I wasn’t about to, and I’m sure he knew that, but this was all part of the game we loved to play.

I straddled him, then squatted to place one hand on his chest and another around his throbbing cock, grazing it across my slickened opening.

“Look at me!” I commanded, affirming my dominance. I could tell that he desperately wanted to grab my hips and impale me, but such an action would have ended our session right then. Instead, I saw him taking slow, long breaths to calm himself. All the while, his cock pulsed in my hand. I desperately wanted to fuck him, but remained resolute.

I saw his eyes droop. He was struggling so hard to resist his carnal urge to fuck that tears welled in his eyes. That’s when I impaled myself on his cock.

“Argh!” he screamed, scaring off the birds that were watching from our tree. I rode him hard, letting my craving for him take over. When his facial expression signaled his impending explosion, I stopped moving. With my entire weight on him, I reached around and squeezed his cock and balls tightly.

“Stop moving,” I instructed. He fought his instincts hard and took long, laborious breaths until his entire body stilled.

Tell me,” I said. “Tell me that you don’t have to cum. That my orgasm is all you need to be fulfilled.”

He took a few more deep cleansing breaths, then responded. “Yes, my love. Your pleasure is all I need to satisfy my needs.” I eased my grip while squeezing his cock with my vaginal muscles in an excruciating slow rocking motion. His euphoric expression teetered towards ecstasy.

“Oh, shit! Oh, fuuucckk!” he roared as his hips bucked wildly. Jizz filled my womb before dripping down my thighs. Even when I knew he was drained, his groin wouldn’t stop spasming, hoping to find one more drop of jizz to displace into me.

Mark lay limp as I stood to straddle him, then parted my labia with both hands. Warm cum dripped onto his chest and neck as he watched in appreciation. Once emptied, I eased two fingers deep within, then squatted to place them in his mouth. Once cleaned, I lowered myself onto him, and we kissed passionately.

You can find more stories, and my mostly-monthly blog posts, at ramonequides.com. I’m also on TwiX and Instagram

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