Submission is not masochism, although you know she becomes aroused by pain, you’ve seen and heard how she shudders and gasps at the sting of the paddle. You’ve twisted her nipples and felt her response in the flood of wetness from her cunt. You’ve held her throat while driving yourself hard and fast into her, watching her eyes glaze with pleasure, feeling her tighten and spasm around you. It’s pain as physical pleasure, sure – but it’s more than that. It’s tangible surrender, the marks you leave are badges of her trust in you, symbols of faith and belief.
He licked me as though he were a sun-blind desert nomad and I an ice sculpture of his most longed-for mirage. No tip-of-the-tongue delicacy, no butterfly-soft tease; he gave me the full weight of his tongue from the cleft of my buttocks to the nape of my neck as I moaned and my legs opened in involuntary expression of my arousal.