This narrative is from my own writing, and it's real (only the names were changed to preserve privacy). My name is Jordan and I'm 26 years old, my partner is Luciana and she's 24 years old. This is the story of a night that will stay in our memory forever. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy it! I'll write the second part later.
It all started on the night when my partner and I had prepared a special dinner. The objective was to have a casual and somewhat unusual encounter. She was going out shopping during the afternoon, taking a bath, and perfuming herself at her friend's place, with the goal of having a date with me at her own home. My objective, as her partner, was to cook dinner for her and wait for her with my fantasy made real: having a date like never before. We're a couple that has been together for only six months, not much time in which we've explored various unknown and unexpected territories. He had always had this fantasy: cooking for his partner and receiving her at his own home as if they were strangers who had just met again, with the simple detail that they already knew each other well.
He was waiting for her with a wine bottle open on the table, two glasses still unserved, a chicken with sautéed vegetables in the oven, and a thousand sheets to accompany it. He was dark-haired, 1.80 meters tall, not very muscular but had a good physique. A lumberjack-style shirt open, and a black T-shirt underneath, a beige pantsuit that fit his body well, there was no greater pleasure than feeling his bulge well-defined making friction with the cock in every swing in the kitchen.
She arrived earlier than expected, curvy, very good legs, and some not very large but perfectly proportioned breasts! He thought. Before 9 pm, a WhatsApp message arrived saying Outside. Simple and direct, no more was needed. When she got out of the elevator and opened the entrance door, the aroma of her perfume flooded the building's entrance. A strawberry-scented perfume, strong but not overpowering, seemed like Some of Natura, very savory for the imagination. Not insinuating at all, she wore a brownish-gray pantsuit with black stripes, a muscular black woman who would later become a fantastic body, and barely covered her shoulders with a cream-colored shawl.
She was on fire, with a simple smile she launched a Hello and together they entered the elevator. For those who are tired of or fans of sex, it may be clumsy or stubborn to tell this story, and even fantasize about her arriving in a short red dress that invites you to enjoy the delights God gave her as breasts. But this woman is different. And so she and he did not only see but feel the games of seduction in a different way. They had their methods and particular tastes.
They rode the elevator normally for eight floors, she lived on the 8th D. Each floor they advanced, the silence and drama of suspense sighed, they only looked at each other without speaking a word. One of the many rules of this game consisted in that the first to lose himself before the desires of temptation would be the submissive of the night.
He saw her with that clothing hiding almost all her skin, with perfume surrounding him through the atmosphere, and had his first erection until he stumbled to contain himself and restrain his first sexual impulse and not lose control. First test of the elevator passed! Today I will obey all my perversities, he said to himself.
She did not omit a response when she saw him, neither physically nor mentally. She had arrived like a stranger at her own apartment, but with her jaws expectant of practicing dominance to the maximum limits known, her own and those of her partner. And although she did not want to recognize it even to herself, seeing the bulge of her companion increasing in size floor by floor generated a small shiver of the approaching night, but she, more prudent perhaps, had not yet awakened her instinct. wild near her sex, but only in all the corridors that her mind pursues towards lascivity (and indeed believes more fruitful than sexual ones).
Upon entering the department, everything changed, literally. She was perplexed with amazement, not understanding what lay before her eyes. The sofa that used to face the window now stood near the library, the bar that usually carried glasses and bottles was empty, the table faced the window giving a view of the entire city's landscape. There was a kind of aroma of palo santo in the air, but it wasn't that. It wasn't a peace and love incense, just a strong, unusual, warm condiment. She didn't know if it was that or the shock of finding the department different that changed her emotional control. At times she saw him from behind preparing dinner, right behind the bar in the kitchen counter, with dim lights barely decorating the atmosphere, with a fitted pants marking his legs. Without wanting to advance, she couldn't give up the game so soon, she perceived very slowly as he bit his lip and looked at that idyllic landscape. Unaware, her thong was wet. A black thong with three stripes on each side, it was a thread thong, fine and already exploding with its humidity, produced by her own juices. In the background, there was a faint Jazz and Lounge music to which she surrendered along with her imagination, with her eyes and lightly caressing her pubic area.
He spoke to her but she was in a trance, it was enough to take the plates and direct herself to the table to see her in her own sexual game, to feel like she was gaining ground firmly on the terrain. With a smile, he said What are you insinuating? Save that for later, when you have to obey, now come eat with me, let's get to know each other a bit before playing with our bodies. She wasn't repentant but had lost the first round, she didn't... She found herself in the total of her senses. She was turned on from within, her circulatory system had accelerated the energetic pathways that led from her brain to her sex, she only felt desire. There was no reason, game, dinner or wine. She was only driven by her sexual desire to fulfill that condemnation to which she so often surrendered.
He was also excited, but still able to manage his instincts a little bit through the art of sexual life. They dined while playing at getting to know each other, asking questions with already known answers, paused gazes and indeed uncomfortable questions that are not usually asked on a first date. But they had been having dinner for an hour when they finished the bottle of wine, many paused gazes, sighs and responses containing as much sanity as they could muster in order to avoid surrendering control to the other. Both wanted to be participants in that sexual encounter while being the owners of the power with which they would handle each other, but neither gave each other a break. When she took the last wine, she let a little wine fall from her mouth onto her lips, which stained her face little by little until those celestial wine drops fell on her shoulder and reached her cleavage. He almost pounced on top of her, excited and with his member about to explode, he breathed heavily in order not to cum from pleasure. By then, she didn't even need to touch herself, the excitement was so great that it could have ended in liters of cum without any restraint.
It was midnight when he opened the second bottle of wine, turning his back on his partner and gazing out at the city landscape while flaunting all the fantasies they had fulfilled together. He was looking to play his game and make her lose focus, so she would take the initiative and lose in the game of submission.
Do you remember the wild sex in the elevator? The one where we got dressed before reaching the 5th floor, just seconds before we were discovered? Or the night you got drunk at the bar and I took you out walking? Hugged, so you can hold me before getting in the car and start sucking my cock? Do you remember that? Or when we shared a party at the country house with friends, between the pool and Campari, I took you to the back where there was a forest, and we caught up front to see if anyone saw us. Or maybe when you tried on those dresses for a non-existent wedding and in the dressing room I practiced oral sex on you? He was serving wine while talking, unaware that he was the master of the night, turning around with two glasses of wine; he could observe one of the best landscapes the night had to offer: she was kneeling, stimulating her clitoris above her pants with her eyes half-closed, and reaching out with her free arm to undo her belt to suck her sex. It was then that the game had a winner and a loser, a master and a submissive. He, a little lost due to adrenaline, left the glasses and let himself be carried away by the image in front of his eyes: she was practicing oral sex without restraint, kissing delicately at the tip of her head, taking air and not stopping to kiss her, sucking the male member almost to the end, just two fingers short. Today you will achieve it, with that madness for kissing and that passion you put into it, today you will have it all inside, as I know how much you like it. While thinking his endless fantasy almost ready to fulfill, he lifted her up with vehemence and whispered in her ear: You lost and I gave you the blow job only so you could taste the flavor of submission, not because you wanted to suck me, but because I myself showed you the way to my victory. Give me a kiss and go to bed. He continued with his sex exposed, told her don't forget to take the two glasses, take them and don't look at my sex. She had gone crazy. Not with this last order, nor with the prohibition of appreciating. her partner's sex was going crazy since the moment she saw that cock grow in the elevator that she had desired so much. She went crazy while he was giving her his back and entered a trance state due to the music, going crazy every second until he repeated the infinite stories they had shared over the past months. She went crazy as she stimulated herself, arched and waiting anxiously for her partner's sex inside her mouth. It was hers, and she had waited long enough; she gave in. She couldn't take it anymore, preferring to lose but at least fulfilling a little of the adrenaline her brain demanded. She had eaten with fire lit, with her thong wet, with heat rising all over her body. It was already late, choosing to get lost in her lust, losing control, power, and command of the night. Losing herself between the moon and the sinful path of her most perverse dreams, and surrendering thus to the submission that condemned her to fulfill all the whims that could arise that night.
As he breathed in the smoke from his last cigarette, just before going into the room, she, due to her clumsiness and innocence of her excitement, wanted to give him a present. When crossing the hallway and opening the door to the lit room with soft red lights, similar to Christmas decorations but leaving a reddish illumination in the atmosphere, ideal for visual delight, she could see temptation and error at the same time. She was lying on her stomach without anything above, not even a bra, had taken off her backless pants that gave her a sexy secretary touch. In this position, she touched herself over her panties, already soaked with her juices and enjoying that instant of solitude in which she waited for the moment to caress eternity alongside her guy. He entered, and with violent tone and impetus, he said:
-This surpasses the rules of the game; you could only do what I told you. Get dressed quickly, but change your thong and stop getting wet. There's still a lot left for that.- and From a slam she closed the door to wait outside while the woman was dressing in a hurry with a touch of fear and excitement for what was coming. Her spare underwear was in her purse, so she had to leave the room; when she opened the door, he looked serious at her and told her to hurry up; as she passed by where he was, he gave her two slaps on her Butt that made her jump and hasten her pace. She went and came back down the hallway naked, hurried and without measuring the most satirical desires that were being ignited.
It all started on the night when my partner and I had prepared a special dinner. The objective was to have a casual and somewhat unusual encounter. She was going out shopping during the afternoon, taking a bath, and perfuming herself at her friend's place, with the goal of having a date with me at her own home. My objective, as her partner, was to cook dinner for her and wait for her with my fantasy made real: having a date like never before. We're a couple that has been together for only six months, not much time in which we've explored various unknown and unexpected territories. He had always had this fantasy: cooking for his partner and receiving her at his own home as if they were strangers who had just met again, with the simple detail that they already knew each other well.
He was waiting for her with a wine bottle open on the table, two glasses still unserved, a chicken with sautéed vegetables in the oven, and a thousand sheets to accompany it. He was dark-haired, 1.80 meters tall, not very muscular but had a good physique. A lumberjack-style shirt open, and a black T-shirt underneath, a beige pantsuit that fit his body well, there was no greater pleasure than feeling his bulge well-defined making friction with the cock in every swing in the kitchen.
She arrived earlier than expected, curvy, very good legs, and some not very large but perfectly proportioned breasts! He thought. Before 9 pm, a WhatsApp message arrived saying Outside. Simple and direct, no more was needed. When she got out of the elevator and opened the entrance door, the aroma of her perfume flooded the building's entrance. A strawberry-scented perfume, strong but not overpowering, seemed like Some of Natura, very savory for the imagination. Not insinuating at all, she wore a brownish-gray pantsuit with black stripes, a muscular black woman who would later become a fantastic body, and barely covered her shoulders with a cream-colored shawl.
She was on fire, with a simple smile she launched a Hello and together they entered the elevator. For those who are tired of or fans of sex, it may be clumsy or stubborn to tell this story, and even fantasize about her arriving in a short red dress that invites you to enjoy the delights God gave her as breasts. But this woman is different. And so she and he did not only see but feel the games of seduction in a different way. They had their methods and particular tastes.
They rode the elevator normally for eight floors, she lived on the 8th D. Each floor they advanced, the silence and drama of suspense sighed, they only looked at each other without speaking a word. One of the many rules of this game consisted in that the first to lose himself before the desires of temptation would be the submissive of the night.
He saw her with that clothing hiding almost all her skin, with perfume surrounding him through the atmosphere, and had his first erection until he stumbled to contain himself and restrain his first sexual impulse and not lose control. First test of the elevator passed! Today I will obey all my perversities, he said to himself.
She did not omit a response when she saw him, neither physically nor mentally. She had arrived like a stranger at her own apartment, but with her jaws expectant of practicing dominance to the maximum limits known, her own and those of her partner. And although she did not want to recognize it even to herself, seeing the bulge of her companion increasing in size floor by floor generated a small shiver of the approaching night, but she, more prudent perhaps, had not yet awakened her instinct. wild near her sex, but only in all the corridors that her mind pursues towards lascivity (and indeed believes more fruitful than sexual ones).
Upon entering the department, everything changed, literally. She was perplexed with amazement, not understanding what lay before her eyes. The sofa that used to face the window now stood near the library, the bar that usually carried glasses and bottles was empty, the table faced the window giving a view of the entire city's landscape. There was a kind of aroma of palo santo in the air, but it wasn't that. It wasn't a peace and love incense, just a strong, unusual, warm condiment. She didn't know if it was that or the shock of finding the department different that changed her emotional control. At times she saw him from behind preparing dinner, right behind the bar in the kitchen counter, with dim lights barely decorating the atmosphere, with a fitted pants marking his legs. Without wanting to advance, she couldn't give up the game so soon, she perceived very slowly as he bit his lip and looked at that idyllic landscape. Unaware, her thong was wet. A black thong with three stripes on each side, it was a thread thong, fine and already exploding with its humidity, produced by her own juices. In the background, there was a faint Jazz and Lounge music to which she surrendered along with her imagination, with her eyes and lightly caressing her pubic area.
He spoke to her but she was in a trance, it was enough to take the plates and direct herself to the table to see her in her own sexual game, to feel like she was gaining ground firmly on the terrain. With a smile, he said What are you insinuating? Save that for later, when you have to obey, now come eat with me, let's get to know each other a bit before playing with our bodies. She wasn't repentant but had lost the first round, she didn't... She found herself in the total of her senses. She was turned on from within, her circulatory system had accelerated the energetic pathways that led from her brain to her sex, she only felt desire. There was no reason, game, dinner or wine. She was only driven by her sexual desire to fulfill that condemnation to which she so often surrendered.
He was also excited, but still able to manage his instincts a little bit through the art of sexual life. They dined while playing at getting to know each other, asking questions with already known answers, paused gazes and indeed uncomfortable questions that are not usually asked on a first date. But they had been having dinner for an hour when they finished the bottle of wine, many paused gazes, sighs and responses containing as much sanity as they could muster in order to avoid surrendering control to the other. Both wanted to be participants in that sexual encounter while being the owners of the power with which they would handle each other, but neither gave each other a break. When she took the last wine, she let a little wine fall from her mouth onto her lips, which stained her face little by little until those celestial wine drops fell on her shoulder and reached her cleavage. He almost pounced on top of her, excited and with his member about to explode, he breathed heavily in order not to cum from pleasure. By then, she didn't even need to touch herself, the excitement was so great that it could have ended in liters of cum without any restraint.
It was midnight when he opened the second bottle of wine, turning his back on his partner and gazing out at the city landscape while flaunting all the fantasies they had fulfilled together. He was looking to play his game and make her lose focus, so she would take the initiative and lose in the game of submission.
Do you remember the wild sex in the elevator? The one where we got dressed before reaching the 5th floor, just seconds before we were discovered? Or the night you got drunk at the bar and I took you out walking? Hugged, so you can hold me before getting in the car and start sucking my cock? Do you remember that? Or when we shared a party at the country house with friends, between the pool and Campari, I took you to the back where there was a forest, and we caught up front to see if anyone saw us. Or maybe when you tried on those dresses for a non-existent wedding and in the dressing room I practiced oral sex on you? He was serving wine while talking, unaware that he was the master of the night, turning around with two glasses of wine; he could observe one of the best landscapes the night had to offer: she was kneeling, stimulating her clitoris above her pants with her eyes half-closed, and reaching out with her free arm to undo her belt to suck her sex. It was then that the game had a winner and a loser, a master and a submissive. He, a little lost due to adrenaline, left the glasses and let himself be carried away by the image in front of his eyes: she was practicing oral sex without restraint, kissing delicately at the tip of her head, taking air and not stopping to kiss her, sucking the male member almost to the end, just two fingers short. Today you will achieve it, with that madness for kissing and that passion you put into it, today you will have it all inside, as I know how much you like it. While thinking his endless fantasy almost ready to fulfill, he lifted her up with vehemence and whispered in her ear: You lost and I gave you the blow job only so you could taste the flavor of submission, not because you wanted to suck me, but because I myself showed you the way to my victory. Give me a kiss and go to bed. He continued with his sex exposed, told her don't forget to take the two glasses, take them and don't look at my sex. She had gone crazy. Not with this last order, nor with the prohibition of appreciating. her partner's sex was going crazy since the moment she saw that cock grow in the elevator that she had desired so much. She went crazy while he was giving her his back and entered a trance state due to the music, going crazy every second until he repeated the infinite stories they had shared over the past months. She went crazy as she stimulated herself, arched and waiting anxiously for her partner's sex inside her mouth. It was hers, and she had waited long enough; she gave in. She couldn't take it anymore, preferring to lose but at least fulfilling a little of the adrenaline her brain demanded. She had eaten with fire lit, with her thong wet, with heat rising all over her body. It was already late, choosing to get lost in her lust, losing control, power, and command of the night. Losing herself between the moon and the sinful path of her most perverse dreams, and surrendering thus to the submission that condemned her to fulfill all the whims that could arise that night.
As he breathed in the smoke from his last cigarette, just before going into the room, she, due to her clumsiness and innocence of her excitement, wanted to give him a present. When crossing the hallway and opening the door to the lit room with soft red lights, similar to Christmas decorations but leaving a reddish illumination in the atmosphere, ideal for visual delight, she could see temptation and error at the same time. She was lying on her stomach without anything above, not even a bra, had taken off her backless pants that gave her a sexy secretary touch. In this position, she touched herself over her panties, already soaked with her juices and enjoying that instant of solitude in which she waited for the moment to caress eternity alongside her guy. He entered, and with violent tone and impetus, he said:
-This surpasses the rules of the game; you could only do what I told you. Get dressed quickly, but change your thong and stop getting wet. There's still a lot left for that.- and From a slam she closed the door to wait outside while the woman was dressing in a hurry with a touch of fear and excitement for what was coming. Her spare underwear was in her purse, so she had to leave the room; when she opened the door, he looked serious at her and told her to hurry up; as she passed by where he was, he gave her two slaps on her Butt that made her jump and hasten her pace. She went and came back down the hallway naked, hurried and without measuring the most satirical desires that were being ignited.
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