There's something about a guy with a willful side. It's hard to articulate it, even for me. Most people recounts acts of submission, even relatively minor, as sexually gratifying for reasons that don't delve any deeper than the word itself: Submission can feel sexy. It's an indescribable intimacy—not being taken, but allowing someone to take you.
That's not how it feels for me, though. It doesn't have really anything to do with how I feel at all. It's his sheer will; a man so turned on he knows what he wants and he'll make it happen. Right now.
"Come here. Bend over, baby." Not a patience request but a command, one hand helping me off the floor or the bed and the other one planted firmly in the middle of my back, firmly pushing me forward until just my hands are on the bed. A groan as he enters and starts pumping frantically. Somehow, whether or not he's already touched me, I'm so turned on I've already matched his level, panting as he continues to push into me. One hand slides up my back gently to plant his hand on the back of my neck.
I have no idea where he's going to come when he's past the point of no return, but I know he'll get exactly what he wants. Because in this moment, with him, whatever it is, I want it too.