The High of Fucking a Dominant Man

I have always been the dominant one, in and out of bed. I speak my mind. I don't like to bullshit. I ask a guy out if I like him and decline politely if I don't. Unless he is a jerk, I tell him exactly how I feel about his sorry ass. I swear as much, if not more, than some of my guy friends. I have proposed to a man in the past, had many men reporting to me at work, and had my ass tattooed in front of 5000 people at a club just because they were looking for someone to do it.

I feel the same way about women. I love women's bodies. I will go after whomever I want and fuck whomever I want. I am always dominant. It's probably because of this character that my dates always succumbed to me. So, imagine my surprise, revelation, and delight when a man dominated me for the first time.

Josh and I had not been dating long. We slept together a few times in a conventional way. He was very tall, 6'5" to my 5'4". He was half Dutch, half black stallion. His dark caramel skin was smooth and shimmered in the light. His very aristocratic eyebrows perfectly framed his dark eyes. He had a perfectly sculpted nose and a full wide mouth. You would be wrong if you think he jumped out of a romantic book cover. He was better because he had class and elegance, not just raw sexuality.

I have to admit that he made me feel insecure for the first time. When we were in public with our hands joined together, I saw the look on girls' faces that seemed to say, "What the fuck is he doing with her?" I felt very uncool and small, like a child. When we held hands standing, my hand rose above my shoulder, so you can't blame me for feeling this way. I felt like I should be holding a balloon in the other hand. To make matters worse, the fucker wore a long leather coat like the one Keanu Reeves wore in the Matrix. It suited him. He didn't even look like he was trying too hard. Anything else would have seemed too delicate against his masculinity. Am I exaggerating? Maybe. Am I delusional? Possibly.

When we had sex, it was great, but I was a little preoccupied with his size. Not all tall men have large dicks, but he fit the stereotype. I was afraid of tearing something down there because it felt like I was trying to squeeze a baby back into my vagina. So, he took it slow. He was always making sure that I was ready, wet, adjusting to his girth, and inching his way in. He was sweet and gentle during sex as he was anywhere else. He had a gentle nature and didn't raise his voice. He didn't laugh rambunctiously and didn't say more than he needed to say. He seemed like a quietly reserved, "I'll be bored out of my mind in a month" kind of guy. I was mentally letting him go after a few dates. Little did I know.

I had a wedding to attend, and I hate weddings. They're boring as hell and expensive for me because I don't believe in doing anything half-assed, including gifts, and I dislike sentimental speeches unless they're extremely well spoken, which most humans are not. So, I asked Josh to join me. The reception was at a posh hotel with a 360-degree view of the beach in Costa Rica, where I currently live.

After all the boring speeches were done, there was dancing. I danced like a crazy woman because I was shameless, not even conscientious of the fact that my dress was a short mini, white, and had low draping lines both front and back. This meant I couldn't wear a bra. When I jumped around in my 6" heels (so Josh didn't look like a pedophile), so did my dress and my boobs. With my hands raised, I gyrated, twerked to the best of my ability, and spun.

Suddenly, Josh grabbed my hand and started marching toward the hotel pool. He led me into a changing room near the pool and locked the door. He firmly pushed me against the wall. I was about to ask what was happening, but he kissed me. Hard. He raised my arms over my head and held them with one hand while his tongue licked my lips, the soft parts inside my mouth, and my teeth. His lips nipped at mine, then moved to the corner of my mouth. He eventually had his mouth all over my neck and my ears. For the first time in my life, I was being kissed with a tongue, lips, and breath.

He breathed into my ear softly while he spoke. "I can't stand those men watching you, undressing you, and wanting to fuck you."

"They weren't. I was just dancing like a madwoman."

"You are wrong. They wanted to fuck you, doing to you what I'm doing now. And I don't like it."

"You are jealous?"

"No. I'm possessive. There's a difference. Turn around." He spun me around against the wall so my back was facing him. He held my hands in his against the wall at his chest level.

"I need reassurance that you are mine," he said as he pulled my skirt up.

"You already know I am. For now."

"For now? I get to decide for how long. Say you will not fuck anybody else," he demanded as he rubbed my clit with his engorged cock.

"I won't." I tried to sound casual, but his cock felt so good. I was already dripping wet even before he pulled up my skirt.

"Say it again," he ordered and rubbed me more vigorously.

"Ah… I won't fuck anybody else." I was breathless and too distracted to say the words properly.

"Forever."

"I….I don't know about that."

He pulled away his cock from my clit. "Forever," he said demandingly.

"Josh, don't stop."

The fucker said nothing but got on his knees. In his black suit.

He ate me up like there was no tomorrow. Like it was his last time licking a pussy. His tongue made long strokes between my folds, the entrance of my pussy, and my clit. At that moment, I believed that I could be with him forever.

"Forever…." I said between my panting. I was getting close. The pressure was building almost to the point of "too much." I had come from penetration only once before. I had to be incredibly turned on. Usually, when a dick entered me, the orgasm died.

Josh got up, turned my head with his hand and kissed me roughly. Then he bent over and bit my shoulder enough to make me yelp. At the same time, he thrust his cock into me with one smooth motion, making me gasp and scream, both in surprise and the unexpected surge of orgasm that overwhelmed and soaked into me. Wholly. Powerfully.

When I was done, he said, "We will not make love. We are gonna fuck." With that, he thoroughly and undoubtedly fucked me harder, rougher, and more completely than I had ever been fucked before. He plunged into me again and again, holding my ass firmly with one hand while still locking my hands in his. I screamed and called out his name, both with pleasure and pain. With one last stroke, he stiffened, stilled, and his entire body jerked with the longest come I have ever witnessed. His cum actually started dripping with him still inside me.

He relaxed onto my back, his head resting against the wall. He stayed inside me, panting and still filling me with his cock. He let go of my hands, so I tried to move away from him. He steadied my hips.

"Where are you going? I'm not done with you yet."

Then I felt his cock grow inside of me all over again. We fucked two more times in the changing room. Let's just say our relationship lasted more than a month. In case you are curious, yes, I am just as bossy, and he is just as gentle most of the time. But I know he has a ferociousness that rears its head occasionally. When it does, the high is unbelievable. I'm still chasing that high.

Leave me a message if you want me to continue the "two more times" story :)

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