I’m kind of a vanilla person. By Reddit standards, I’m basically not even a flavor (you guys are wild), but even by non-internet standards. I’m sort of on the tame side of things. I like sex, I’m horny a lot, I enjoy trying new things, but without a little pushing, I think I’d probably just enjoy doing the sort of standard things. I’m kink shy, I suppose, but not necessarily kink averse.

It’s something my FWB has teased me about a little. Not in a mean spirited way, just grinning while pointing out that I’m not one to branch out in bed. It also wasn’t him like pressuring me to do any specific thing, more like poking fun while implying “you could branch out with me, if you wanted.”

I watch porn, so I’m aware that kinks exist. I know what kinks are, but I just always shied away from trying anything. I couldn’t deny though that choking was something that always stood out a little. It seemed hot to give up control like that, to submit to something sort of objectively “bad” and find pleasure in it. I’d never tried it before, but it was in my mind as potentially some spice to add to my sexual stew.

So eventually I plucked up my courage, I was, after all, a strong independent woman capable of exploring my kinks, and told my FWB I wanted him to choke me. I told him outside of bed, to gauge his reaction and tell him I had a safeword, the product of compulsively researching the intricacies of any new thing before trying it. He was, unsurprisingly, on board and hinted that it’s something he’s done before.

The next time we found ourselves in my bedroom, I told him I was ready to try it. The sex played out like normal, we made out, gave each other oral, and got into it. I love being on my back with him like kneeling between my legs/leaning over me, not quite him-on-top-of-me missionary, but close. And that’s what we were doing, he was holding my thighs up as he thrusted into me and I played with my clit.

Then I felt one hand let go of my thigh and run itself up my body, between my boobs, and brush against my throat. Then I felt his fingers around my throat. Then I expected to just feel him squeeze like that, but instead he sort of pushed his whole hand up into my neck, I’m probably not describing that well, but hopefully you get it.

And just like that, I suddenly couldn’t breathe as easily. I gasped and sucked at the air, trying to get it into my lungs as he slowly increased the pressure. I could feel the denial of oxygen so sharply. I gripped his forearm with my free hand and in that moment, his strength crystallized before me. I knew he was a strong guy, often he’d fuck me hard and I’d feel his muscled body working into mine. He’s not like a super ripped gym bro, but he’s athletic and strong. Clearly stronger than me.

Gripping the iron hard muscles of his forearm as he presses into my neck made it so stupidly clear how much stronger he was than me. How I was submitting to someone who could throw me around if he wanted. How soft and delicate I was compared to his strength. I cummed. I cummed hard. The mix of the physical choking and the mental submission feeling made me lose it so completely.

As I convulsed in climax, he let go and I gasped loud and hard, both because I was cumming hard and because I needed air. I was shaking as I felt him pick up speed, trying to join me at the top of this mountain. Moments later I felt his body jerking as he did.

He rolled off me after a minute and we just laid there. Panting, looking at each other, then smiling and giggling. I got up to check my neck for marks, none thankfully, it was definitely not turtleneck season.

“Not so vanilla now, am I?” I asked him, feeling suddenly more experienced, more worldly.

“No,” he laughed, “not vanilla. Strawberry I think.”

I threw a stuffed animal at him and fell back into his arms.