Chocolate

“Oh I’m such an ego…”

She let her hands climb slowly over my body, let them talk to me, let my limbs fly along the walls, float on the pillows of the sofa. With steeleblue eyes she carried me over all dark depths. And I tried so much to be good, to cope with all the pain and all the crying instincts that said “no!”. Her thousand butterflies, yet unseen, lifted my body, rolled it on the side , tickled my skin. Wave after wave of this nerve tickeling drowned me in enormous impressions.

Well, I didn’t know it would all end up with me hanging on her fingertips, but I was very happy with the situation. Being in a what I define as a sub role is not an everyday experience for me. I have the impression that my appearance as top is more popular amongst people in the BDSM community. As a sub I´m also more of the shy one. I demand more focus from my dominant partner as I give up the ability and willingness to take decisions and choices of my own. As a sub, I´m only interested to serve and to be used. The two roles, even though they are opposite in their characters, complete the different aspects of my inner lust.

“I can´t stop touching you …”

And this wonderful and beautiful woman really used me, enjoyed my body after her own taste and showed her appreciation so well. All my hours at the gym seemed to have fulfilled a new meaning. All these tons of iron that has tormented my body through all these years paid off in a couple of hours in her god given arms. I like to think about it that way. To prepare and work on my body as that bit of chocolate meant for the dominant woman to eat. Yes, I was happy, being her bit of chocolate.