I’ve never told anyone this, I said to him while driving back to his house from a bar. He’d asked one of my fantasies after he told me his. I couldn’t keep eye contact. I was worried about how he would respond to what I was going to say. Would I be judged? Would he be into it? Would I continue to feel guilty for being “bad” as I had even thinking about this?

“I think that’s kind of hot,” he said to me after I told him about the way I’d fantasized if someone suckling my breasts.

We left it at that. He periodically would mention over the next week how he thought that was hot or he’d been thinking about it. But I felt too self-conscious to bring it up again.

That is until the next Saturday. We had been talking about having a lazy day, watching television on the couch, and he had started bringing up sucking my tits while we did it. We had been furiously making out in the kitchen, and I told him I wanted him naked upstairs. He removed most of my clothes, and so he followed me up the stairs while I was in just a thong.

That first time, feeling him latch on to my nipple, and watching him suck on my breast - it confirmed the fantasy, and how I knew I was going to feel about it. It was one of the hottest things I think I’ve ever seen a man do. We had amazing sex that afternoon after he had sucked on my tits. But what happened later that night was completely unexpected.

We’ve been out at a bar, enjoying cocktails and wine and cheese in the atmosphere of a young urban crowd fueled by alcohol and life. We can’t seem to keep our hands off of each other in general. Our conversation flowed easy as did the wet kisses I put on the side of his cheek. He caught me off guard when he left for the bathroom and told me to flirt with any man who approached me, but not to give away his seat.

When we got home, we dressed for bed and acted initially as if we turn into sleep quickly. But I tentatively asked him if he would suck on my tits one more time before bed. I really just wanted to feel close to him. I wanted to replicate that intimate feeling that I felt earlier, but what we ended up experiencing I think blew both of our minds.

We’d figured out a positioning for us - he laid in my lap with a pillow under his head, and his arm wrapped around me, my hand cupping my breast and feeding it to him. After a few minutes I looked down to see his cock rock hard. I began stroking him while he suckled me. He moaned with pleasure into my breast. I decided to lean into his vulnerability and submission and said “Does my good boy like it when I stroke his cock?” I honestly couldn’t believe it came out of my mouth - I’d never really leaned into a domme role. But he responded enthusiastically, so I continued praising him as I used my spit to lube his hard cock and continue stroking him.

He took his mouth off me for a minute and asked, “What should I call you? Miss? Madam?”

I fumbled my confidence, not knowing what the answer to the question should be, but I knew I wanted this experience to meet what he wanted from a switch. “What do you want to call me?” I turned the question back to him.

“Can I call you mistress?” he asked. I grinned and told him he definitely could.

We began a new dance, testing these roles for the first time. I felt the nerves in my breast light up, sending pleasure through my body. He was dripping cum, leaving my hand covered in a mix of my spit and his wetness. I lifted my hand to his lips and put my fingers in his mouth, encouraging him to suck them clean. I would later find out he had a spit fetish and this along with watching my spit drip from my mouth to my hand to his cock drove him wild.

I then asked him if my good boy would want me to suck his cock, to which he enthusiastically said yes. He laid back, and I grabbed the nipple clamps, placing one on each of his sensitive nipples. I purred, “good boy” to him as he took each. And then I made him watch me as I moved down his body and slowly dropped my lips over his tip and down the length of him.

As I continued to work him with my hands and mouth, he unclipped the clamps from his nipples. I stopped, looked at him directly and said, “Did I say you could do that?”

“No, mistress,” he apologetically said in response.

I quickly reapplied them to him, looked him in the eye, and said, “do not take them off without permission.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Good boy.”

I went back to work on him. As I sensed he was getting closer, I removed the clamps from his nipples and reveled in his gasps of pleasure. “Don’t cum until I say you can,” I told him, and felt a rush of pleasure as he whispered, “yes, mistress” back to me.

A minute later, he said, “please, mistress can I cum?” I told him to beg me, and he began to plead. As I sensed his desperation increase I said no and removed my hand from him. He let out the most satisfying, frustrated whimper. I sat up on my knees and stared approvingly at him.

After a minute allowing him to calm down, I said, “good boy” and went back down on him. The next time as he got close and begged please mistress I popped my head up just long enough to say “cum for me.”

And he did. Hard. Pulsing over and over his cum into my mouth.