bendingsubmission:ilikeitsexy My first submissive partner had a sweet spot, at the union of her lo
bendingsubmission: ilikeitsexy My first submissive partner had a sweet spot, at the union of her lower back and the top of her ass. I say sweet because I often found my fingers lingering there for lengthy amounts of time for unknown reasons. It wasn’t as though her skin felt better there, just a place I gravitated to regularly. I don’t know much about chakras, but I’d be willing to bet hard cash one of them lies here. We came back from a party one night. She slipped out of her dress and spread herself across me like this. l love a woman who makes a natural habit of sliding out of dresses while leaving her heels on. As I stroked her hair, my fingers found their way to that sweet spot. This time, out of curiosity, instead of just drawing small circles, I slowly added a little pressure. When I did, she arched her back slightly. Interesting. I increased the pressure again. A small moan. Back of the throat. Almost a purr. Fascinating. More pressure. A deeper moan, and her legs flipped up, crossing themselves. The legs and the heels and the sight of her were having an effect. I felt myself growing stiff against her cheek. She did as well. Ran her tongue and lips along me through the fabric. More pressure from my hand in response, like kneading bread. More insistence from her mouth that my clothes come off, in the form of her teeth against me. We continued this little exercise of escalation, until I could feel her agitation. I was always more patient. She told me of the warmth running from my hand through her. Told me the warmth was making her very slick. Said I should investigate. As tempting as that was, I responded by bearing down. I wanted her warmer. Wanted to see her drip. Told her so. Her response was gorgeous. A little gasp. The one that comes from being pushed past willful, to wanton. She began slowly fucking the air, where she wanted my hand, quietly pleading for fingers to fuck her. Taking a firm grip of hair at the base of her skull, I leaned in. Told her it would be so easy. To bury them. Deep. Only a matter of moving my hand a few inches. But I wanted something else. I wanted her to come. Just from this. So I told her. The moment I said it, a little tremor raced through her and left in a something between a breath and a moan. Tight circles with both my middle fingers deepened. Her nails raked the sofa slowly. I told her to hold on, with her teeth. The moan was muffled as she sank them into me. I tightened my grip on her hair, and pinned her sweet spot with pressure. The tension in her body escalated, drawing it so taut there was no motion. No moan. No exclamation. For a moment I thought I’d lost her. Too far. Then I heard her toes curling against the leather of her shoes. I knew she had snapped. Silently. Then the first buck. Christ, the first buck. Involuntary. Her spine breaking loose and dancing, wracking her body in the sweetest, deepest convulsions. I slid my hand down to her ass, cupped it and ground more out of her. Always more. I would pull it from her like gold. I don’t know how long she shook. I do remember in the middle of it, I felt pre cum running down my thigh like a river. It felt better than coming. I remember being acutely aware this was our gift to each other. I would be patient. Find the secrets on her skin. Unlock them. She would entrust them to me. Show me her true self. This would make us whole. We didn’t move for quite some time. I stroked her hair while the aftershocks rippled through her. We both knew words would feel cheap if they left our lips. -- source link