🔥🔥🔥EROTIC STORY❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥⚫️SUBMISSIVE (part 1) ⚫️ A mutual friend introduced us at a birthday party, warning me quietly: “don't get excited about this guy, he likes some weird stuff”. Little did she know that this comment ignited a little heat of interest in me, the kind that burns you until you're all messed up! Another thing she didn't know (that I kept secret) was my b side: I'm a submissive woman (in bed, never in life). I like the smell of leather, of men's feet stepping on me, of worshiping a cock before going down on me, of spankings, collars... I like to submit my entire pleasure to the delight and control of the other. Even if she didn't tell me anything, I would recognize some signs, for example, a small key hanging from her bracelet. Or her extremely polished boots. How many languages had passed through there? As I asked myself this question, I imagined myself on all fours, slowly running my face down her legs until I stopped at her boots, making my breath dampen the leather before rubbing myself all over them. This was a technique of mine to "polish" the feet I was going to kneel before with desire, and going over this script like this filled me with imagination and desire. I watched from afar the way she moved, her opinions, her large hands, surrounded by the hair on her arms making a super charming arch on her wrist. I gradually got closer as the night went on, noticing that her gaze was reciprocal to mine, and I found my cue when one of her friends joked, calling her house a dungeon. "Dungeon? What do you like, huh?" she said on impulse, and at that moment the table fell silent, which suddenly made me super shy. His gaze fixed on me for a few seconds and he sat up straight in his chair, pausing dramatically before answering. A friend next to him broke the silence and replied, “I don’t even want to know,” which caused a general laugh that distracted the group and changed the course of the conversation, leaving only the two of us with this suspended question. “What do “you” like?” he emphasized, returning the question to me and letting our game begin there. I absolutely could not say this out loud, and since the clues were more than clear that he was into BDSM too, I wrote it on my phone and handed him the device showing my answer: “I like to submit myself to someone who knows how to dominate. Is that your thing?” He stared at the bright screen and gave a satisfied laugh, suddenly causing all the chaos at the table around us to be suspended, leaving two smiles of those who want to get up to mischief. “I can do it, let me show you…” he handed me the phone and walked around the table to the chair next to me, now pulling out his own device. I was already tense about what would come out of that screen when he opened the notepad and asked what my limits were. (Pause) Those who submit also dominate as much or more. You are the one who sets the rules, the agreements... you are the one who chooses a dominant and says yes to him. In this case, I am the one who hunted down the dominant in question. Do you realize how much power there is in the yes we say? As I typed my restrictions (fluids only saliva or semen, non-negotiable condom, low tolerance to pain, sessions only at my house), he tucked my hair behind my ear and made me shiver with that. His eyes ran from my typing hands to my face, which let out a mischievous little smile of tension at this closeness. I finished typing and came across his complicit expression, now closer to me saying “Yes ma'am, I agree to everything and record this moment well because it is the only time you will hear a yes ma'am coming out of my mouth, understand?” — I understand… — I barely said that and we advanced towards each other, exchanging an intense kiss that tasted like a preview: his hands grabbing the back of my neck, lightly squeezing my hair, my tongue being guided by his in a delicious dance of who was in charge, who could, and who obeyed… who allowed themselves! In that first kiss I submitted to his guidance, feeling a strong and precise grip. It doesn’t always happen with dominants, sometimes the session is intense and the kisses are lukewarm. A kiss like his puts me in a state of incredible desire, so much so that I felt a contract sealed there: I would be capable of doing anything he wanted. When we separated, breathing deeply, we watched our friends’ comments about the unlikely couple that happened there, we exchanged contact details and he said goodbye, whispering in my ear: — Next Friday night, at your place. I’ll cook, you serve me. — He gave me a kiss on the corner of my mouth, picked up his coat and left, turning the corner, leaving me with my eyes glued to his hurried steps, already imagining what was to come. To be continued…