Note: I feel like a lot of “training” stories tend to be dom training sub, and wanted to explore my frustrations with that not always being realistic when delving into a dynamic as a couple. This is just going to be a collection of scenes that I imagine panning out. Someday.

I can do this, I tell myself, trying to work up the courage. I remind myself that I have no reason to be nervous, and that even if you say no, you won’t think any less of me. I feel so secure, but I’m still so vulnerable.

I pull my mouth away from yours and plant kisses down your cheek and jawline, followed by slower ones on your neck. I’m straddling you and can feel that you’re starting to get hard. Thank god, I think, my confidence rising.

I sigh and push my upper body up with my arms and meet your eyes. My lungs forget how to function for a second as I try to speak. After a second the words come out, a little too quickly. “Can we try something?”

“Can I please kneel in front of you and suck your dick?”

It seems so basic and something that every couple has done and probably does regularly, but we haven’t, at least not in recent memory. I’ve been too gentle with my desire to be submissive. It doesn’t start when I get turned on and end when I orgasm. It’s pervasive. It’s me blushing when anyone is nice to me at all, and deferring to authority. In real life, I have to push through and establish myself, stand up for myself. It takes a lot of emotional energy. I want to be able to indulge in it. And I adore you. I’m tired of hiding my desire to worship you.

Not that kneeling for oral is submissive on its own, but I’ve thought too much about what it would represent for me emotionally, sexually, symbolically. That I am serving you. That I’m prioritizing you. That I’m trusting you.

My question catches you off guard for a fraction of a second, before you quietly but firmly whisper a yes. I lift my ass up off your hips and kiss down your neck and upper chest as I back off of you. I swing my legs off the bed onto the freshly vacuumed floor. Of course, I wanted our bedroom to be spotless for something so vulnerable and special for me.

You lean up and I time my descent into a kneel with your rising. I didn’t specify if I want you to sit or stand. Should I have initiated this on the sofa? You stand up and I dare myself to look up at your face. I must look so cute from this angle, with no risk of double chin or weird angles, and my eyes wide. I’m too in my head. I remember my goal.

My eye contact is enough for you to recognize my submissiveness flowing, so you bring your left hand up to the back of my head with more assertive force than I anticipated. You can decide what I do next, or force me to perform for you. I feel like I equally crave the potential embarrassment of showing how slutty I feel, and the helplessness of you using me however you decide. Without pushing or pulling my head in any direction, you suddenly increase your grip on my hair causing a medium amount of pain. I wince and lean forward, fervently kissing under your navel and removing your towel. My body temperature rises as I start to feel that strong urge to worship you. The one that I usually push away or overthink, unless I’m drunk. As I lower my mouth, I latch onto your skin for longer, leaving maroon marks where only we can see them.

I kiss my way up your shaft and put your tip just inside my mouth, tightening my lips around it. I gently suck on it for a second before opening my mouth more to swirl my tongue around. I make sure to flatten my tongue over the top, but form a point for your slit and frenulum. After a good few seconds of alternating these sensations, I lick as much of your shaft as I can in two motions and reach my right hand up to grasp you.

I resume sucking on your tip as I start to jerk you off. I quickly find a rhythm with my mouth and continue this motion as if my mouth and hand are connected. As pull you further into my mouth and throat I lift my fingers to let me go deeper.

I love you. And I love having your cock in my mouth. I get slightly embarrassed by my spit spreading everywhere, but I know that’s a good thing and will feel better for you. My mind drifts to musings I’ve seen people write online about girls drooling, and how pretty it sounds. I stop worrying and stop myself from subconsciously preventing my spit from dripping down my face onto my tits.

I haven’t looked at you in a minute, so focused on doing this right for you. When I glance up, still pumping you in and out of my face, you’re already looking down at me. I feel like your face is neutral, but I can tell you are slightly surprised by either my enthusiasm or my endurance so far. It has been a minute since I’ve gotten to suck your dick as anything other than a minute or two of foreplay. Another drop of spit slowly leaves my face as I maintain eye contact. It’s lukewarm as it connects with the top of my right breast.

I push my role a little bit and you’ve had enough of me staring at you. You grab my hair tight and push me down onto you. In surprise I let go of you and try not to choke as you slowly but firmly push my face against your abdomen. I’m so grateful for you and your forethought to only push one inch at a time, and I’m able to take you fully without gagging (too much).

You hold me there and I don’t count the seconds but wish I did. I’d love to work on improving how long I can deep throat you for. I try my hardest to impress you by not reacting when I start to run out of air, trusting that you’ll know when to pull me back. Despite this, I’m not good enough and end up twitching against you and reflexively trying to pull away. You hold me firm as I struggle for about 3 seconds before letting me come up for air. “Such a good slut,” you say to me.

I’m distracted by your praise for a moment and feel my face heating up in slight embarrassment. Embarrassment that I feel my core twitch in excitement as your words repeat in my head. I think I even feel myself shiver a little bit.

I snap back to the situation I’m so gleefully in and establish a rhythm again, ensuring time to hold you in my throat periodically. You hold my head against you once more in an almost identical manner as before. I can tell that this time, you’re more worked up.

Once you pull me back I take as much of you in my mouth as I can without your forceful hand and bounce my head at a steady pace. I try to lick you as I move, but am more focused on feeling your tip pass between my lips and gag reflex. I breathe through my nose and increase my speed slightly. As you get closer to orgasm, I know I don’t have much time to consider if I would rather you finish in my throat or on my face. Both are wonderful.

Not that it’s even up to me, I remind myself, right before you subtly moan and pull yourself out of my mouth. You don’t pull back far though, and rub your cock on my cheek a few times. Thankfully, I’m not too slutbrained to forget to close my eyes. You softly moan again as your cum hits my face, with a lot of it dripping right into my mouth. I don’t swallow immediately as I part my lips to let more drip in as you paint it across my face. I look up at you and watch your heavy breathing, feeling so much adoration for you and pride that I was good enough.

Still looking at you, I scrape what didn’t drip down into my mouth and swallow, making a point to lick and suck it off all off of my finger. While doing this, you meet my eyes and sigh. I kiss your stomach a few more times and pick up your towel to wipe my spit off of you.