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A Tale of Submission

Jesse was kind of an asshole. At least that’s how I had him pegged, right out the gate. He was a leader in the company and the first time I saw him, he was presenting to  one of my company’s divisions. No nonsense, grumpy, aggressive: my initial impressions were of a salty man who wanted nothing to do with the rest of us, beyond what his profession required. Funny enough, and as fate would have it, part of his profession required he sometimes drive visiting co-workers to the airport, when their lost luggage finally arrived. That is how I found myself in a tiny rental with Mr. Salty. It was roughly an hour’s drive and it was exactly as you might expect: awkwardly quiet.

I couldn’t think of anything to say so I was content to simply let this be a passing moment in time. But then something strange happened on the way back from the airport. We began talking. It turns out Jesse had a lot more depth and dimension than first impressions assumed. Funny enough, he had been feeling that same awkward tug to come up with something to say, the whole ride to the airport. It slowly came to light that his hard exterior was very much a product of his position.

The ride back was much more enjoyable. There was a beautiful intellectual connection I had not felt for some time. By the time we arrived back at the hotel, we both were making promises to continue our conversation later that evening. Something to note about work conferences in particular: I may enjoy the sexy times I find, but I am very smart about how those times are indulged. We made plans for me to stop by Jesse’s room for a drink rather than raise any potential drama with an in-person meetup at the bar or dinner.

I arrived at our agreed upon time and we settled into a continuation of our discussion. As you might imagine, the topics became more personal as the night wore on. We talked of relationships and eventually our views on and experiences with sex. I was candid about my open marriage. After five years in Marriage+, there’s a personal freedom and confidence to share that’s been developed.

And so I did share.

And he did, as well.

It turns out Alex was also open. There’s a certain heady buzz when the potential of the physical opens up, especially after an intellectual connection has been established. Recall, my libido (like many women) is multi-faceted. This had been a day of certain checkboxes surprisingly being checked.

And what was to come next was a new kind of surprise that checked a box I’d been wanting to explore more fully.

We were seated across from each other. He sat on the couch and I on a nearby chair. Jesse’s eyes sharpened with a playful kind of intensity: the hunger, the want for me. I felt my blood begin to race. And then he motioned his finger, beckoning me to join him. I approached. As I was sitting, he pulled me to sit on his lap, straddling him. I felt a heady kind of rush in the way he took charge. Our bodies connected. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he dove his lips to meet mine. Our kiss was electric, the way he guided the rhythm of it. And I would soon come to discover Jesse’s natural tendency towards guidance and control translated well to the bedroom.

There was a voraciousness in the way we connected, a lean into the instinctual desires that felt more intoxicating than the alcohol we’d been consuming.

“Fuck me,” I hissed.

Jesse didn’t need any convincing.

He lifted me and carried me to the bed before unceremoniously dropping me onto the mattress. In between the revving tempo of our touch and kissing, our clothes began to come off. I was already feeling the certain prickle of something new in the way he led the moment.

It’s important to understand some context here. Like a lot of confident, well-established women professionals, many facets of my life require the constant need to be in charge and to fight for respect. Sex can be such a great escape, a dive into physical fantasy; so when a man takes control in the bedroom, it’s a kind of euphoric release from all the constant pressure to perform and lead and fight to be seen. And Jesse did so with a self-assurance that made my head spin.

He had me on the bed on all fours, my ass arched up to take the fullness of his cock. Jesse was average in length but knew how to use it. A hand gripped my waist. He leaned forward and I felt him reach forward and slide his fingers through my hair. There’s an art to hair pulling in sex to make it pleasurable without hurting too much. Jesse knew what he was doing. That strong grip at the back of my head; his fingers threaded through my hair. He tugged my head up and pressed his cock inside me at the same time.

It was a rush of pleasure.

When sex elevates to a trusted power exchange, there’s an almost primal excitement in it. Nobody was performing. Neither of us were working towards the goal of the orgasm. It was about the journey, the exploration. Sex was a release, yes; but it could also be a place to play and embrace that escape.

He used his grip and his body weight to control our rhythm and place me where he wanted. First, from behind. I closed my eyes to allow my other senses room to engage and experience this new world of trusted submission. The sounds of his heavy breathing, his grunts, the slap of his thighs against mine. I felt him inside me, that pounding need. I felt his hand in my hair and also the slide of his grip from waist to breast to play with my nipple.

He suddenly flipped me around to my back. My breath let go in a playful yip of surprise and this heightened Jesse’s instincts. He gripped my wrists tight, restraining me as he slipped back inside. Our pace was measured and deep. Wherever he wanted me, he moved me. And what a thrill to be taken with such confidence and intent. I allowed myself to let go and fully give him the reigns.

Jesse had my legs over my head to get so deep it took my breath away. His dick slid inside me, fast and forceful. I’m no brat in the bedroom but I am also not a full service sub, either. I made him work for his pleasure by giving him a little bit of fight and struggle. I played the back and forth of pushing back against his dominance and fully falling in to embrace it. Rhythms of the sensual and raw sex. By the time we had built to the climax, we were both panting and his hands had been on my neck multiple times to subdue me.

He gave a final, grunting thrust. I shuddered beneath him, feeling the throb of his cock. I bore down upon the feeling, relishing the completion of our wild night of primal play.

Jesse would “come” What does the winking kissy face (with little heart) emoji mean? - Quora to have a few more nights with me before we parted ways. For me, I will always enjoy the memory of my first true dom/sub experience.

I know a lot of people like the idea of a sexy vixen submitting to them in the bedroom (and maybe even beyond in an established dom/sub relationship). For those who might be interested in the dynamic, remember, it requires demonstrated sincerity in the intent to create a safe place for the submissive to submit. Jesse didn’t just top me. He opened up and earned my trust, first. Don’t be like Nick who wanted it too desperately but forgot the build. Jesse took the time and care to support an environment of physical, mental and emotional safety where I wanted to be dominated.