True Sex Stories: The Best Fuck Ever

Our best fucks happen when I am open: open to whatever is there, open and tuned in to the moment and to James.

We talked about what we might do, and he asked me what I was hungering for. He asked in a what are you interested in and how might you inspire me kind of way.

I kept trying to think of something specific, and I kept coming up blank. Then I shivered as an idea flashed through my mind. That's it. I wanted to go to that space. What space? That very submissive space. That space where he can explore and be inspired. Where there is no safeword – not by denying myself one, but by opening up to whatever is there, by riding and feeling it all, by just being and letting him lead and do.

It wasn't until later, when I lay on the floor for him to massage my back that he became inspired by my naked vulnerability. He emphasised it by gripping my wrists as he nuzzled my neck and slowly bit my shoulder. My body shivered in delightful response.

He leaned back and laid a single smack on my ass. My usual bratty reaction flamed and I started to retaliate, but then he caught my eye and my mind returned to our conversation. I decided to focus on the sensation instead of reacting to it.

We looked at one another and there was a palpable shift in our dynamic. There were no words going through my head; that part of my brain was fading out, and I was just sensing and feeling. Oh, and submitting. It was frickin' hot.

His erection had made its way through his boxers. He pulled off the rest of his clothes and asked me if I wanted to fuck. He asked because he likes hearing me say yes.

"Yes please."

It was his hand in my hair that pushed my lips to the head of his cock. He controlled my movements entirely: back and forth, back and forth. I just opened my mouth and accepted it. He pushed me down further and I tried to open my throat so I could get more air. His other hand came around my face and pinched my nostrils together. Instinctively I gulped air on the next upwards motion, and then he pushed me down again with a gurgling sound.

"Time to pull out your tampon," he said. I like it that he wants to fuck me even when I am menstruating. He placed his fingers around my nipples, and as I started to slide down he increased the pressure and pulled. I was wet and slick and he entered me easily.

We fucked. He led in the way that he does when I give him the space to do so. It is an awesome space. There was no safeword because I didn't need one. I was safe. I trusted his judgement entirely. I let go of any need to second guess. It is an edge of a kind – and yet it isn't.

He prepared to slap my face, and I felt myself instantly recoiling and then consciously reopening. I struggle with face slapping. He asked me how it was for me, and when I said "Borderline" he moved on to something else. In that moment I learned again that opening myself up – even to sensations that I don't think I want – is important. Not all the time, but sometimes I should just let go and be open to what is there.

He had me smack my own ass. (It hurt my hand more than my ass.) He took over, gently at first, and then building up to harder and harder impacts.

He had me pinch my own nipples. "Seven out of ten," he said. I slowly increased the pressure and wondered if I could get it that high. I got there, just, and then he told me I had to momentarily squeeze at eight before I could let go.

I loved how he would position his mouth ever so carefully, taking a big mouthful of flesh from my shoulder or the back of my neck, and then slowly increasing the pressure. I loved anticipating the intensity that would make me cry out. As the moment arrived it satisfied me and made me wet with desire. Today I had no impetus to pull away: I was there to experience everything.

His nips to the front of my throat were a stark and beautiful contrast. I shivered as the edges of his teeth grazed my vulnerable tissues.

He gripped me by my hair and fucked me. He gripped my by my throat and fucked me. He gripped me by my nipples and fucked me. He gripped me by my hips and fucked me. He made me come and come and come as he pressed his cock hard against my g-spot and my cervix while grinding his pelvic bone against my clit.

It doesn't get any better than this.

He fucked me until he came too, and then we held each other with a deep sense of connection. I pushed myself up to see his face and was overwhelmed with emotion; it was like my love was spilling over and flowing out as tears. I have never before cried after making love. (Plenty of times during, of course.) Our love has a fierce side, but it is balanced by the tenderness he shows when he holds my sobbing self.

As we lay cuddling my thoughts went something like this: I think that might have been our best fuck ever, even beyond all the other amazing sex we have had. Why? Was it my submissive headspace? I don't know. I just know this was something more, something better.

Yeah, it was the best fuck ever. Until the next time.

Republished with permission from SapioSlut. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Sex and Submission.