"You can park your in my driveway, in front of the Tesla". I was surprised. When I asked where to park, I was expecting John to suggest somewhere anonymous and unassuming. Somewhere nearby with plausible deniability. Like the store. Or a public parking. It was after all a small town, and people talked. I thought he also would like to avoid this, but maybe he had moved past this fear.

The last two times I met up at his house I had brought an old guitar-pedal, so that if I met someone I knew, I would tell them that I was meeting someone from facebook to sell it. The first started very nervously, but ended with me confidently riding him. We had to stop several time due to his cock being to big for my inexperienced ass. But in the end it was quite enjoyable. The second time was much better. We had figured out the chemistry, and we were more comfortable being intimate. On all fours, with him behind me, I had moaned like a girl. It surprised me. He said several times that he loved it. It ended with him coming inside me, laying on the side, with his hand firmly around my neck, and my earlobe in his mouth. I had never felt so sexy.

Since then, over a year has passed. I had started dating a girl. Despite having a respectable job as an analyst and being fairly good-looking, I had always felt like she was out of my league. In fact, I thought she was adressing someone standing behind me, when we first started talking during a new years eve party. The fact that she kept showing interest in me felt kind of unbelievable. Her intense, loving gaze made me feel calm. The world could feel like a haze sometimes. I would talk, but I rarely connected. Eye-contact felt difficult. But gazing into her eyes, everything was OK. It felt silent and safe, like someone had turned the volume of the world down to a comfortable level. I would think about her all the time. But I struggled with taking initiative and standing up for her in public.

Although there were sides of me I could no longer explore, sex was good. She would put her head on my chest after. And I would hold her. I would much rather have my head on her chest, but I knew asking for it would be met with laughter. She had a lot of male friends, and was quite comfortable talking to men. I would get jealous of the easy, casual, flirty tone that friends or even strangers would have with her. I was afraid of letting her see me get talked over or losing a discussion. Afraid of being seen as boring or contributing little to conversation. Afraid of having other men laugh at me in front of her. Sometimes, after some beers, I would disappear just because of the stress. After a while she would always call me, and we would meet up. Alone. When we were alone, everything was OK.

This went on for some months. But eventually she became less and less available. She used longer and longer to answer texts and I was clearly no longer her top priority. She had found the tone with someone else. Someone like you would expect. Handsome, successful and confident. Soon she broke it off.

Months later, I still thought about her all the time. I dreamt of us being together again. Messaging her on social media as a friend, still wanting to be in her life. Driving past her neighborhood in the hopes of bumping into her. But when I occasionally did bump into her in town, our interactions were short, friendly and deflective. Her boyfriend's handshake was crushing and his gaze would, unlike hers, make me want to look away. There was nothing to do but move on. But it was not all bad. Moving on meant no longer having to pretend. No longer a need to be self-confident and socially dominant. Free to explore my submissive side once again.

I finally decided to pull up in John's driveway. I no longer cared what the neighbors might think. He had told me to take off all my clothes in the hallway, and to come into his bedroom. Feeling the cold air against my naked body felt amazing. Having him take control and ask me something unorthodox felt exhilerating. As I walked the last few steps into his bedroom a lot was going through my mind. There was so much left to explore. Things I hadn't dared ask him yet. Either because I was embarassed or because I was unsure if I really wanted it. Having him slap my ass while pounding me. Sucking him off in the shower. Having him blindfold me or tie me up. Maybe even pee on my chest or face. There was so much left to explore.

As I entered the bedroom, he asked me to come into bed with him. Instead I asked him to stand up. I got down on my knees and started sucking him off. I wanted a clear distinction of power. With him standing and me on my knees, naked and vulnerable. Feeling the cold air against every inch of my skin and buttcrack. The lights were off, but on my knees, I would have no problem holding his gaze. Preferably I would have serviced him for quite a bit longer. But John became impatient. Seeing my wanting to submit, he put his hand on the back of my head, held my hair and started forcefully fucking my mouth. His cock was big and hard to deep-throat. I really didn't like the loss of control at first. But then I became increadibly horny again. This was no longer just a submissive fantasy in my head. He was really dominating me. On his premises. I just had to decide to go along with it or not. And I did. He guided me to the bed, turned me around on my back and continued fucking my mouth. I became rock hard. On my back, with his cock in my mouth, and later when I ate my ass, I once again moaned like a girl.

The session as a whole wasn't as satisfying as the last one, as we had to stop. I was uncomfortable getting fucked without a condom this time. But I left light, happy and excited for the future. There was still so much to explore.