He pushed my head down onto him and let me gag as he groaned.  He pressed just hard enough at my throat that I felt his power.  He flipped me over and gestured for me to ride him.  As things started to heat up, my brain began to race.  Would he let me cum?   Was he committed to this?  Would he tell me no?  If I asked, would he laugh?  Would he say yes?  Or would he care enough to deny me like we had talked about?

I knew that asking was another step in letting him learn about me.  I knew how much it would hurt if he laughed.  I knew I could deny myself but needed to push myself to trust him.  I finally asked quietly.  With a little chuckle (that made my brain scream) he said, “No you can’t cum!  Don’t even think about it.”

The relief flooded through me… he was in charge…


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