First bdsm experience

Added: Atiya Roman - Date: 13.01.2022 04:57 - Views: 10748 - Clicks: 4180

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements. This is my first attempt at writing erotic fiction and is based on a true experience of mine. Comments, critics and suggestions much appreciated. I approached the bar with some trepidation. Barring Date No 1 this was probably the only other time I had felt nervous before meeting someone. This was a different kind of nervous though, it was more apprehension. I realised I was actually really looking forward to this date, which was never a good idea.

I liked approaching first dates as a casual opportunity to meet someone new. That way I was unfazed. I have friends who work themselves up before a date, thinking he could be the man of their dreams and therefore they need to make the best impression possible. I, on the other hand, have been on enough dates over the last three months to realise he is unlikely to be the man of my dreams and if he was, he would accept me, flaws and all. In all likelihood, this date won't make it past drink 2. I am brutal, this is true.

But I don't want to waste my time, or theirs. This time, however, it felt different. He had contacted me initially and I'd been intrigued by his profile. It listed the usual -- job university professor , loved London been here 9 years , wrong side of thirty just and enjoyed art galleries not my scene. The two details that caught my eye, however, were his slightly more elaborate use of vocabulary eschew, salacious, enthrallment and his point about liking to be in control. I was intrigued. His first message was fairly standard, but before long we got onto the conversation about sexual preferences.

Perhaps preference was the wrong word in this case, it was more of a 'lifestyle' with him, as I was to learn later that evening. He asked me what I was like when I got a bit more serious with a guy. He said he could be very dominant in bed so it was important for him to be with a girl who has a submissive side.

I replied with a quip about having to take control in most other aspects of my life so was happy with a guy to take control in the bedroom. I hadn't even met this guy and already he had me excited. The questions escalated to him asking me about my experience with 'kink' and I was honest and said I had very little but was open minded. Soon after, we arranged a drink. Tonight was that night. As I approached the bar, he sent me a text letting me know he was sat on the terrace. The bar overlooked the river and as seems to be the trend in recent years, we were enjoying a sunny April.

It was a lovely evening. I walked around to the side and saw him sitting there, drinking a glass of wine. He jumped up to greet me and poured me a glass. He did not ask me if wine was what I wanted which at some stage a few years ago might have annoyed me. But I was embracing spontaneity for the first time in my life. And I had realised there were many more important things to worry about in life than someone assuming I wanted a glass of wine as opposed to any other type of drink. We chatted and drank wine as the sun slowly set behind one of the bridges. He was engaging and I found myself attracted to him although I have a feeling a lot of that was down to the fact he exuded confidence.

He was not cocky but he seemed like a man in charge. He knew his place and his direction in life, a fact I find extremely attractive. After a couple of glasses of wine he brought up the topic of internet dating. Asked me why I did it and how I was finding it. I explained that I enjoyed meeting new people, I didn't like the types of guys that approached me in bars, and so far I had had a positive experience, despite not meeting anyone I really liked. Blah blah. His turn. He described how he liked the anonymity of it.

He looked me square in the eye and said very slowly and deliberately -- 'You could come home with me tonight, and nobody would ever know'. Feeling emboldened by the wine I replied that I could. But I was unlikely to, having never slept with someone on a first date before, nor had a one night stand with someone I had met in a bar.

He raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his wine. I took the opportunity to ask him about his reference in his profile to taking control. Therein began my first ever serious conversation about BDSM. He talked about attending fetish clubs and enjoying anything which highlighted a disparity in power between two parties. He asked me if I had a submissive bone in my body but before I could respond, he looked me straight in the eye and told me he was going to kiss me. I felt totally under his command as he placed a firm hand behind my head and drew me into him. He kissed me hard, pushing his tongue without any trepidation into my mouth.

It was like no first kiss I had ever experienced and I felt a stirring between my legs that told me I was very attracted to this man, and very turned on. After far too short a kiss, he grabbed my hand, pulled me up off my chair and told me we were leaving. I didn't even question him as I grabbed my jacket and bag off the seat next to me. We walked along the river towards Tower Bridge to catch a cab back to his.

At one point he grabbed both my hands, pushed me over to the wall lining the banks of the river and kissed me hard. He knocked the wind out of me as he grabbed my hair and titled my head backwards. He nibbled down my neck and I felt my legs turn to jelly.

I then felt his hand move from my hair and travel down my check, across my chest and over my left breast. Before long I felt the coolness of his hand against the part of my stomach where my top met my jeans and he slowly slid his hand inside my trousers.

We were on one of the most popular stretches of pavement in London, connecting London Bridge with Tower Bridge and despite the fact it was gone 11pm there were still plenty of people milling around. His body shielded most of me from view so unless anyone took more than a passing glance, the fast walking Londoners and slower paced tourists would have remained oblivious.

He flicked his finger over my clit in such an accomplished manner that I moaned softly into his mouth as he kissed me. I attempted to raise my hands to his face but with his free hand he gripped my wrists and pinned them to my side with surprising strength.

We continued kissing as his finger moved over my clit and he sucked and bit my bottom lip. Finally I was permitted to come up for air and as I gasped for breath he removed his hand from my trousers and grabbed my waist so I moved away from the wall. Before I knew what was happening, we were walking quickly back on the path towards Tower Bridge, climbing the steps and hailing a cab. In the taxi he did not touch me. He did not look at me. He engaged the taxi driver in meaningless conversation about some road closures on the north side of the river.

I longed for him to reach out to me; to squeeze my leg, to take my hand. Upon reaching his place, we hopped out of the car, he settled the bill and proceeded to let me into his flat. It was a typical bachelor's pad; a large TV and speaker system and huge cityscape prints on the walls.

What was out of the ordinary was the level of organisation. When he opened the cupboard in search of wine glasses I caught a glimpse of all the glasses lined up in rows by type and height. In the living room not a DVD or CD was out of space and from what I could tell, they were organised by genre, and then alphabetised. There was not a speck of dust on the black gloss furniture. After carefully pouring two glasses of wine he picked them up and I followed him to his bedroom. He set about putting on some music and drawing the curtains. Even in his bedroom not a thing was out of place.

He leaned against his desk, glass of wine in hand and ordered me to undress. Still he had not touched me since we moved away from the river. I bent down to unzip my boots and discarded them next to his bed. I undid the jeans that he had been inside not twenty minutes ago and slid them down my legs. I pulled my top over my head and stood there in front of him in my underwear.

He did not flinch. He showed no of appreciation or arousal and that immediately set me on edge. I felt slightly uncomfortable and longed for his reassurance. After I'd removed my underwear and my bra he ordered me to tidy the pile of clothes I had left at the foot of his bed. As I put my boots together and folded my jeans and blouse he moved behind me and placed a hand on the small of my back.

I felt myself tremble at his touch but stood up straight and strong after I'd finished arranging my clothes. He indicated for me to lie on the bed and I did so. He quickly undressed, folding his clothes as he did and sporting a reasonable sized erection.

As he kneeled over me, I opened my mouth and he slid his hard cock into my mouth. I was given no warning as he pushed it further into my mouth. I gagged slightly, surprised by the invasion into my throat. He was in total control, fucking my mouth. After a few minutes he withdrew but maintained his position over my face indicating for me to keep my mouth open. I did as I was told. He slowly dipped his balls into my mouth and I massaged them with my tongue. He did not make a sound. He did not touch me. Climbing off me, he reached over to a book shelf and removed a condom from a small black lacquer box.

First bdsm experience

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