One of the things you may notice about my fantasy writing is that a lot of the same themes play over in them. Part of that is because we’re dealing with my fantasies, but it’s also because when it comes to describing a particular scene I tend to base it off my experiences. I try to remember what things felt like, tasted like, smelled like and while I may change things around or amplify the bdsm aspects of the scene in my story, I’m writing based on what I can see in my head if that makes any sense.
I’ve always been attracted to guys who are a lot older than me. I’m not sure if it’s because they’re more mature, calmer, more patient, more experienced or just more confident regarding where they are in their lives, but they have something that guys my age usually lack.
I’ve dated plenty of guys my age and most just want to stick their dick into something warm and wet which can be fun too. After all, I was created with three warm holes. But the little understanding they have of bdsm is that it’s a spanking, a demand for a blowjob, rough sex and maybe a set of handcuffs. They see bdsm as a path to sex rather than sex being one of many components of bdsm. They get their pleasure from the sexual act rather than from the entire experience. Whereas the older guys I’ve dated, especially those who were into bdsm, understood what it was and had enough experience with it to do it well.
That having been said, I’ve had some good experiences with guys my own age. My first serious boyfriend was a very good looking quiet brooding musician type. In other words, he was just like me but with a penis instead of a vagina. There was a quiet confidence about him that drew me like a moth to a flame. We dated for a while and I was pretty happy to be his girlfriend. He would hang out with me in my room for hours and have me show him all the various outfits I possessed.
After a couple months whenever we’d get together he started telling me what he wanted me to wear and making all the choices about where we would go and what we would do. It was a huge turn on to have him making my decisions for me in that regard and while I didn’t understand at the time what I found so arousing about it, I definitely got wet every time he took charge.
When I was eighteen I had one of my first truly submissive experiences. Tom was forty-one at the time and definitely a take-charge kind of guy which is probably what attracted me to him in the first place. We had been out on a couple dates to nice restaurants and although we had made out quite vigorously including him feeling me up, squeezing my breasts and playing with my nipples, that’s as far as things had gone in the sex department.
It was almost midnight when out of nowhere I got a text from him that he wanted to come over. I figured it was a booty call which I was actually really excited about. I was feeling horny, I definitely liked him and honestly he was moving a little slower than I would have liked in the sex department. In the thirty minutes before he arrived I fixed myself up a bit. Put on some makeup, got out a little lingerie, brushed my teeth and by the time I heard the knock on the door, I was oozing with sexuality.
Now I’ll be honest for a moment and let you know that while the dialogue isn’t exact, it should give you an idea of how the interaction went. I’d say that what I’m sharing with you is probably fairly close.
I answered wearing a bathrobe because I didn’t want to give away the surprise right away plus I was kind of playing it coy, as if I was about to go to bed but I was willing to accommodate his visit. He came in and we chatted for a few minutes and then he asked if he could take a shower. I had tingles in my body. This was it! He was finally going to fuck me!