“I want to fuck your mouth,” he says. I squirm with desire. I can’t help it.
It’s amazing how completely I absorbed the idea that a blowjob was a degrading act without ever having heard anyone say so and before I even knew what a blowjob was.
I lie on my back, my head on a pillow. He straddles my chest and could easily trap my arms at my sides with his thighs.
I allowed Bad Boy (aka the Narcissist) to guilt-trip me into doing something I really didn’t want to do. Excluding the major issue of the manipulation, it wasn’t objectively a terrible experience. But it served to steel my resolve never to do it again.
“Arms above your head.” He pins my wrists in place.
Blowjobs became a hard limit before I knew what a hard limit was, but I adhered to my rule strictly. Given the relationship chaos that followed Bad Boy, that rule functioned to actively protect me. I had no other such damaging experiences, could not be manipulated into it, could not be forced. Regarding this one act at least, I was safe.
I open my mouth so he can rub the head of his cock, slick with pre-come, on my tongue. I take him into my mouth and suck firmly. He hums with pleasure.
The hard limit became an unthinking reflex. But since I realized that I don’t need to protect myself from Wolf, old habits like this now come up for review. Aside from those negative attitudes that I inherited early, I’m practically tabula rasa, which is a good thing. I surprised myself when I discovered that I enjoyed fantasizing about blowjobs.
I keep my head still. He thrusts in and out. Sometimes he murmurs praise, sometimes he groans. The groans are praise too.
Our current favorite position happens to be one in which I can barely move and he has control over depth and pace, because it’s the most comfortable for my perennially tense neck. I don’t associate it with real coercion — it’s all play.
He grasps a handful of my hair to communicate control. Then he uses that grip to move me on his cock like he’s using my mouth to masturbate.
He has never really gotten anywhere near coming in my mouth because I’ve only just promoted it from “hard limit” to “willing”. This is just as new for him as it is for me and, given my past difficulties, he worries about going too far too fast.
His thighs start to shudder. He’s close, so close. I’d asked him not to pull out until he starts to come but he won’t yet let himself go this way, so he pulls out and starts to stroke quickly. My mouth is open; he starts to squirt, but on my neck. I lift my head a little to put my tongue right on his cock, demanding a taste.
He has nothing but praise for the way I suck his cock, and that’s not just politeness speaking: there’s no feigning that delight. But it’s easy to please him because he always lets me know when it feels good. And I can take pride in a blowjob well done.