After I got to give you my favorite blowjob ever, we discussed how we felt about it, like healthy adults. While not equally as thrilling, I felt this was just as important in making progress toward my end goal.

I went first and told you that I felt amazing. I felt the most natural and euphoric, hypnotic, buzz while kneeling before you. The physical difference in our positions meant so much to me. I essentially described the entire event to you as something that contributed to my euphoria, and before letting you talk I expressed that I want to push this further.

But “push” wasn’t the right word. I want to explore this further. I want to surface this part of me. And I want to learn you. This part of you that is still a mystery to me after all this time. Small bits and pieces have shown through, but I hope that by exploring my own urges, I can bring more of yours to light.

You tell me you feel similarly, though are still nervous about a more explicit dynamic. Of course you are. It’s new. But nobody told you to grab my hair, suffocate me with your cock, or cum on my face, so I feel assured that you are naturally inclined toward the same situations I am. Our conversation could have been more productive, but progress is progress.

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Something I’ve always dreamed about is waiting. Waiting while restrained on our bed. Waiting in lingerie for you to come home from work. Waiting until you decide it’s time to have me.

I have today off, a holiday my job recognizes and yours doesn’t. I spent most of it doing usual things like sleeping in, running laundry, and picking up prescriptions. As late afternoon drifts in, I find it harder to motivate myself to move off the couch and clean something.

There is a password locked note in my phone that contains a short list of accounts. I copy the first username and enter it into the search bar. I never was someone who looked at porn, only read it every now and then, but I’ve worked on my relationship with sex and explored visual formats. Not to mention it was increasingly challenging to find new reads.

For an hour I scroll through the recent posts from these accounts, and follow rabbit holes through their reposts and likes. I just barely touch myself, stimulating my emotions more than my body. Eventually, I have one hour left until you get home.

Even if I decide not to do what I want to do, I should shower. Carefully avoiding my hair and face to preserve my makeup, I make sure I’ll look good for you when you get home.

Shower done, I stare at my closet. I have a corset bodysuit, but is that too much? If you aren’t in the mood when you get home, I want to minimize my embarrassment. I decide on a light blue dress that makes my boobs look nice. I hardly ever wear this out because of how it falls barely below my ass, but it might be perfect for this.

I don’t put anything else on under the dress, and check the time. I have ten minutes, but a lot left to do. I make our bed as quickly as possible, putting every pillow on it to declutter the room. I pull our box of sex shit from under the bed and set it on top. I unlatch the lid and lean the lid against my dresser. I hurry to the bathroom and pick up my clothes from the floor, and your pajamas from the morning. Back in our room, I sit on the bed and decide where I want to wait.

I’ve tried being flirty after work before but don’t seem to be very good at making it obvious. I already feel a little unusual wearing this dress, and omitting a bra. Picturing you walking in the front door sighing and tossing your laptop bag on the table, I decide to wait in our bedroom to give you a few seconds to decompress.

I decide to kneel next to the bed. I am facing the door of our room, but have my head turned down. I try a few different positions with my arms before deciding to hold them behind my back, hands clasped, as that feels most natural to me. I sit my butt on my heels but keep my back straight, hopefully looking as small and graceful as I can.

I have no sense of time anymore as I left my phone on my dresser. Instead of worrying about that, I focus my brain on imagining your reaction when you get home. What do I exactly want to happen? I didn’t think I’d get this far. Images fly through my brain at light speed of what could happen. Some of these images are beautiful but others are made up of humiliation, and not in the fun way. Actual, real, humiliation in front of the person I’m most comfortable with.

I can’t dwell any longer as I hear the front door open. You set your stuff down, as I envisioned, and look into my office. When you don’t see me, you call my name but enter the bedroom before you’d expect an answer.

A scenario I did consider briefly is what unfolds. You stand there for a while. Probably at least 20 seconds, but it feels like 10 more minutes. It’s enough time for me to get antsy enough to lift my head right as you ask What’s this? We make eye contact and I exhale a giggle as a nervous response to fill the silence. I inhale and go to speak but you hold your hand out suddenly as to indicate not to. I’m only two steps away from you, and you clear the distance instantly. You reach down my dress as I maintain eye contact, squeezing my breasts and then pinching my left nipple, fast and hard. I wince and let out a small squeal which makes you smile before letting go. Heat rises to my face alongside a smirk of my own that I struggle to hide.

You walk over to the box on the bed and I hear its contents moving around. You walk back over to me and instruct me to turn around. I do. Your hands reach over me and put our blindfold over my eyes. You exhale and grab something else off the bed. You cuff my hands together before wrapping our ballgag around my face. I think about how every time we try any bondage, you always use the ballgag. I get butterflies thinking about you finding me hot with it in my mouth.

You grab my right bicep and push me face down onto the bed. You lift up the skirt of my dress and quietly laugh in amusement to see nothing underneath. It’s a level of blatancy I’ve never tried before and I’m elated at your response. You grope me for several moments before grabbing something else from our collection. You cuff my ankles to what I know is our spreader bar and pull on them hard to ensure they’re in place. They are.

We’ve gotten to this place before, without it being set off by me waiting for you. I don’t know what effect I want my waiting to have on you.

With my legs forced apart you can use one hand to spread me open. I hear the unmistakable sound of a lube bottle, followed too closely by you pushing something sharp into my ass. I’m very tight, but prepped, and it takes you a few pushes before opening me up. The buttplug slides in smoothly as I groan and immediately I feel full. As you let go of my thigh, it gets bumped and I sharply exhale a surprised moan. Any movement stretches me in a new way. I get nervous knowing you might fuck me with it in and exacerbate that pain.

I half-shout-half-moan as you grab the jewel end and pull, until you are sliding it halfway in and out of me repeatedly. I let out a defeated groan and move my hips in a futile attempt to make it hurt less. You see this and slow your pace, drawing out the painful stretch. Despite the pain, I’m getting wetter and it’s only a few seconds before you’ll notice. “God, you’re soaked from that,” you say as you shove a finger inside me. I can hear your smile, I think. You make a point to bump the buttplug a few extra times as you remove your hand from between my legs.

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Your weight shifts off the bed and you move toward my head. You reach around my neck and undo the gag, removing the blindfold as well. I barely get time to look at you as you tap my cheek with your dick. I instinctively open my mouth and try to wrap it around you but am met with you stepping back, slightly laughing. “So eager,” you mumble mockingly in a low tone that makes my face heat up. I am eager, I think proudly.

I don’t think for long, though I know those words will haunt my brain for a long time. A “please” flows out of my vocal cords. You push yourself back toward my face as I once again lean in to catch you with my mouth. I stick out my tongue and eagerly run it along your length. Once you decide I’ve done that for long enough, you grab my hair just behind my bangs and pull me away. With your other hand you push my thighs and turn my body over. Now on my back, you pull my head off the side of our bed and fill my mouth. Entirely controlling the pace, you thrust deep in my throat a few times before holding yourself in me. You run two fingers down the front of my neck, stimulating yourself. You squeeze my neck around where your tip begins, and fuck my throat shallowly to make the most of the tightness.

My blood is rushing to my head from being upside down, and that feeling is amplified by my limited oxygen. If my hands weren’t cuffed underneath me, I’d grab yours and hold them on my neck longer to urge you to keep manipulating my body for your pleasure.

You take your hand off my neck and relocate it to my chest, grabbing hard as you pick up your pace. You’re pulling yourself almost entirely out now before plunging down my throat over and over. I feel a sharp pain travel across my chest as you twist my nipple. I gasp in pain as you start pulling entirely out of me. You look down at me catching my breath, and catch me extremely off guard by firmly smacking my cheek.

Before I finish regulating my breathing, I’m flipped back around to a prone position. You climb on top of me and unceremoniously drive yourself into me. Every thrust pushes your full weight against the plug in my ass, and god, it hurts so much. I’m borderline screaming and contemplating safewording or begging, when you pull out and rest your dick on my ass. You lean forward and reach for something to my right before pulling my head back and forcing the ballgag back into my mouth. You lock it tighter than before, or at least I think you do. Maybe I just hope you do. You re-blindfold me as well before removing your weight from my back.