He couldn’t believe he did it.

He’s checked in 4 more times since the first.

Once from a crowded lobby where he’d said it’d only been a quick check-in.  He’d felt a “flutter of excitement”

The second time was for insurance in case he couldn’t check daily like I’d initially asked of him and he instantly hardened as he began to text me the update, he said.

He only got to mentioned staring at my profile in his third note during a very long and very busy day of mine.

And the fourth was from his bustling shared office — his cock had been “pressing [him] to steal away glances” as he could — and it got engorged from our exchange, but he didn’t think he had anywhere private enough to take care of it.

The Neighbor used to ask for things to do, little subby tasks, but he would inevitably fail despite him agreeing to the terms and the tasks beforehand.   That meant I was left with punishing him, which ultimately is what he wanted in the first place I suspect, so I wasn’t dominating anyone: he was topping from the bottom and I was left with the shit end of the stick.

I hated every second of it and couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong; it highlighted my insecurities with him and make me feel inadequate in an area where I’d once felt competent.  It was a colossal mistake to keep trying…

But this man, this boy, he seems so different already.  I hesitate to be hopeful, but I will admit to experiencing a sense of calm, a gentle lick of joy as I see him go to great lengths to meet my expectations.

It is a wondrously quiet thing for me to experience as all the vanilla men in my life either drop off the face of the planet after days of warm exchanges, pander to me until I push them away, or rocket off into the outer limits of some crazed hysteria revolving around unresolved childhood traumas.

This kinky, submissive man is cool as ice and he’s melting in my hand.

    Checking into CS. Today i can’t stop looking at your breasts. My goodness.

    Mm
    And?
    What’s happened?

 Well i’m by myself in my office so i’m playing with myself a little. Someone could come in though so i have to be careful.

    Can you lock the door?

    It’s locked. I share an office w 4 other ppl and we all keep long hours, so hard so get privacy. Some of them are still here just in a meeting right now. I can hear them when they unlock the door so i’m ok with what i’m doing. But i prob can’t take it out right now.
    I’ll run to the restroom. It’s not very private but i can at least take it out and hold it for you if you’d like

    Mm yes

    Ok i’m here. Holding my cock. It feels heavy in my hands :)
    Stroking gently to that photo

    Wow
    I’m doing mommy things >:)
    While imagining you

    Haha should i stop?

    No, it’s ok.  Was at sports class with all the moms lol Headed home now
    Pretty sure I was the only one there with a good boy stroking himself to me across town

    Hahaha
    Do you have an honorific you’d like me to call you?

    Are you hard?

    Yes and stroking

    Yes.  Call me Ma’am and Miss
    I don’t care if they’re capitalized or not.  I imagine you saying it

    yes Ma’am :)

Mm fuck
    Gets me every time!
    And you?  What gets you?  

    Do you prefer one or the other?

    I prefer Ma’am, but also like Miss

 good boy, but i also like to be called slave or pet or slut. Haha i’m def blushing now
    Any of those work?

   I like boy and pet and slut – in that order – and also each deepens the meaning and is dependent on the context
    Boy feels right for now.  Pet later, possibly as things progress and for certain things, and slut for when you really are my little slut

 Ok sounds good! I mean i’m stroking my cock in the public restroom, flushed red, Miss… pretty slutty  
    :)
    i mean you can call me anything you like, sweet or degrading, if there’s something you like. i’ll like it more if it’s what you want
    those are just things that have got my blood running in the past

    I want to call you my little pervert right now ;)

    :)

    Perfect little slutty pervert playing with himself in a public restroom bc I want him to >:)

    that text is going to make me cum, Ma’am

    Can you hold on another minute?

    yes Ma’am

 Can you cum by the time you count to 50?
    Sooner?
    What if I counted down?  Could you cum that way?

    doubtful. i take a long time. i always fail at those countdowns

    It’s ok

    I can try

    Mm

    I wish i could! I could try if you like, ma’am

    Yes

    Are you going to count?

    From what number shall I count down?  What do you need, pet?

    Try 50

 Ok
    Imagine me laying on my bed
    50, 49, 48
    42, 41

    Yes

Imagining you
    36, 35, 34
    In a stall
    29, 28, 27
    Jeans unbuckled
    24, 23
    People in the halls
    20, 19
    Your hand wrapped tightly
    15, 14, 13
    My breath held
    10, 9, 8
    Your hand moving
    5, 4
    Your cock so hard for me
    3
    Hot and dripping
    2
    Aching to spill for me
    1

Came
    haha too soon

Hardly

    It was hard to gauge exactly

    Seemed fucking right to me
    I drew out the last 10 ;)

    I can’t believe that worked

    Oh yeah?

    That was so hot

Mmhm
    It was :)
    Very

    Haha all those texts are still coming in. My service is slow!

According to my thread, you came the second I counted 1
    Lol
    So you were reading my mind, apparently

    I got 1. The late ones were all out of order

   Lol
    How funny
    So you came from even less  from me!

    I can’t believe i did that tho, good thing no one came in

    Good thing indeed
    You were a perfect little slut :-*
    I loved it
    I feel warm all over

    :)

My wish is his command.

I told him to text every time he checked out my profile on CollarSpace; a first little test of our roles and how well we play them.

    just checked out your profile on CollarSpace

    Mm
    Did you get aroused?

    and texting you about it made me hard

    Yesssss
    So your cock is throbbing for me

    yes it’s pressing so tight against my jeans

    Omg
    What a good boy you are
    I’m pleasantly surprised by this

i would love to come show you the effect you had
    it would be embarrassing to walk out in public with my jeans bulging out though. i’d have to use a book to cover it

    I would pay good money to see that
    And to touch it
    Feel the fabric warmed by the heat of your skin and flow of your blood
    Mm

    oh please yes

    So very hot
    As a little reward… I’ll tell you… I’m going to cum to this
    I’m going to read your words and cum

 oh yes please cum!
    my cock is pleading with my jeans for release

    Are you somewhere where you can take it out?

    yes

    Then do
    Take it out and stroke it
    I’m about to cum
    And imagining you somewhere stroking to me will make it more than I can stand

    i took it out and it flopped heavy into my hand and i started stroking earnestly

   Mm good boy
   I just came for the first time

    i want to help with the second so badly. i’m aching for your summons

    My summons?

    if you asked me to come i would come. i’m swept up in the thought of it

    Yes, and be loud as you dare
    Mm imagining you cumming right now has me so aroused
    Think of your face buried in me, barely able to breathe

    just came so hard

    Me too

    haha again?

    That very moment your text came through I’d finished
    Yes

    excellent

    Vibrators are beautiful inventions

    hahaha

    As are words ;)

    yes, that was fun

    Mm indeed
    You like that little reward?  Lol

 haha. yes, very much
    thank you :)

    You’re welcome

He gets on his knees.

“Do you want me on my knees in front of the fireplace?” he asked sweetly.

“I’m not sure,” I answered, thoughtful. “I plan on being out late tonight and drinking.”

“Well, ok. Just let me know.” I gave him the customary swat out the door and clicked the lock behind him.

::

When I go back a year and read my posts, my yearning for something is palpable. I wanted connection, love, trust, passion. I was locked in a terrible embrace with fear of loss and all it entails and The Neighbor was a complicit partner.

He was uncommunicative and distant. He liked to taunt me, torture me and basically flog my ego until I would literally beg for parts of him, at which point he might deign to humor me. Or possibly not.

What I didn’t know then, that I’m beginning to understand now, is that my offered position of subservience kept him away and it never had the potential to draw him nearer like I hoped. He wanted me on top. Always. Somewhere near his marrow he is some kind of submissive.

He needs me to be in charge, confident and independent, not simpering and desperate for attention. He needs me to think of him and his pleasure first. I need his trust and for him to need me.

Since the sun has risen on this slumbering side of me I feel taller — I’m the tallest 5’5″ woman you know — and I am no longer scared of him walking off. Maybe I’ll walk off instead.

And now my stark, raving fear has gone away like the steam from a kettle. I am gentle. I am strong. I am changing. I make the decisions.

The shift isn’t perceptible to the outside. It’s a private contract we’ve signed between each other. When he calls me “Ma’am” in public I swell with pride and excitement. The rules are making themselves known with each step; I could never have laid them all out myself.

One thing is clear: I’m more in love with him than ever.

::

“I’m coming to get you. Text me the address,” he said, his deep voice clear and vibrant.

It hadn’t been the plan at all, but he’d been texting me all night asking my whereabouts and my ETA and things weren’t going according to plan.

Apparently, he was coming to rescue me from the hipster-clogged streets and over-extended taxis. I would soon be in his kneeling arms after all.

Thirty minutes later he pulled up in his dark luxury car at the end of the street and my friend and I hopped in, to be greeted by his boyish face dusted with whiskers and split with a smile.

We lavished thanks on him and he was gracious and kind as he dropped off my friend. When she was gone, the silent whisper of the car taunted me to rub the bulge between his legs. My white knight in a black car was aroused.

Moving shadows played across his face, his thick hands gripped the steering wheel, and I continued to make him grow.

We parked and climbed the stairs. He fondled my bottom and I giggled. A pat and a tickle. A love and a whisper.

A minute later, naked and pressed against him my body flexed and received him. Ever ready, always wet at the slightest glance, we both exclaimed as he pressed deep inside of me.

“I’m not going to look away,” I said, more to myself than him and my lashes fluttered.

His broad shoulders over me, his arms locked and flexed, his beautifully shadowed face nodded approval. Then he began to move.

The flower of my passion opened like the hussy that she is and I dug my nails into his flanks to draw him ever closer. His tempo increased and he hitched my ankles up to his shoulders and pile drove into me.

Bloom after bloom of little g-spot fireworks peppered me from the inside and I coasted for a minute like a rag doll. I begged him to stop, said I was going to die, but never truly cried uncle. The torture was too sweet.

I grabbed his head and pulled his face down to mine and kissed him passionately.

“Ok, stop. Stop for real,” I panted. He instantly stilled and waited. For me.

“Get on your knees,” I whispered. “I want your cum on my tits. Now.” He raised his eyebrows for a second, but didn’t hesitate. Slowly he pulled out and kneeled to my left. This wasn’t the kneeling man I’d envisioned earlier, but this was a beautiful man.

I leaned over and grabbed the Hitachi and the head buzzed noisily on my clit as his hand became a blur above me.

“Oh my god, you are so hot, Hy,” he gritted out. I closed my eyes to imagine the sight we made: a creamy and muscled man, with dark hair across his chest, his tree-trunk legs spread wide and kneeling, his hand fapping at his enormous erection like a teenager with a box of porn and me, a thickly curved woman on her back, breasts large and plump like domes of Jell-O, knees slightly splayed, breath heavy, eyes closed beneath her dark and staring lover.

My revery was broken by a lusty, “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum on your tits.”

“Cum on my face,” I offered.

He exploded and cried out and I closed my eyes as semen rained down on me, landing on my breasts, my jaw, and my cheek.

He fell forward and giggled a little. I pressed the wand down harder and concentrated as the jizz’s magic heat began to cool on my skin. He laid down beside me and made little patterns in it over the swells of my breasts and the flat stretch of my chest. He followed the trail up to my jaw and kissed some off of me.

My build jumped forward and I chuckled that a glob was under my eye. Carefully, he wiped it away and closed his mouth over mine. My pussy clenched and I inhaled the fragrance of his seed and remembered the look in his eyes moments before and I came long and hard in his arms and to his words of encouragement.

::

I am not the boss of him — I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t really want to do, but my loss of fear has opened me up to the possibility of being something else for a change: myself.

Dominance and submission, compersion via swinging, good old fashioned vanilla, a blowjob and a handjob. It doesn’t matter what I do so long as I’m real, so long as I’m me.

And me — I think — is a horny, self-esteemed, loving, curious, bashful schmuck who is no longer afraid of losing someone because she’s sorta found a little more of herself.

Fancy fucking that.

Don’t wake me up.

In the bright light of morning, our debauched fun last night is irrefutable. I was boss for most of the night, then it was his turn. I am the upperclassman by default and it comes surprisingly easily.

Don’t get me started on the open bottle of lube, the tired-looking Hitachi, the dirty dishes, and empty popcorn bowls scattered about the apartment. It’s goddamned beautiful.

Whimsical glass butt plugs, garters and stockings, wrists and ankles bound, candle light, exclamations of beauty and lust, an obedient man/a domineering woman//an obedient woman/a domineering man, kisses and whispers and fucking and sucking, slurping and swallowing, eating and drinking, cuddling and touching, talking and laughing.  On and on and on it went.

And when I thought I could handle no more he begs me for one last thing.  “Can we please watch Bubba Ho-Tep now??”  He’d been so good, I couldn’t refuse him.  Curled into his lap, his soft belly my pillow, I dozed and started from time to time.

“Wait,” he said as the end credits rolled, “I want one more thing.  A goodbye fuck.  Come on.”  And he grabbed my hand and dragged me into my room which, bathed in warm candlelight was the crime scene of passion: silk scarves pooled like blood, pillows lay about the floor like broken bodies, and the ties on the bed a hint of how it’d all come to pass.

Then he fucked me one last time, took my breath away, and kissed me all over as I lay in the wet spot he’d made me create 2 hours earlier while wrapped up in restraints.

Finally, it was late.  “We have a race to think about,” I said.  “I’m fucking exhausted.”

He kissed me again and I wrapped myself in a white robe, gingerly stepping over the toys and pillows and scarves and walked him to the front door where I kissed him again.

“I’ll text you early tomorrow,” he said.

“Ok,” I waved at him and yawned.  “See you tomorrow. By the way, that was goddamned fantastic.”

“Yes.  Yes it was,” he agreed and he finally left.

I’m immersed in a libertine’s wet dream.

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There was a man here first, then a woman. She had never been in a 4-point restraint before.