trust
“Do you trust me?” I ask him.
We sat in a hotel room, the smell of booze and take out, and fuck fill the air. I was still naked, and he had a towel wrapped around his waist, fresh out of the shower.
He looked at the items I had laid out. Nipple clamps, cuffs, a vibrating cock ring, a bullet vibe and an ass plug.
Swallowing hard, he said, “All of these things are for me?”
I kneeled in front of him reaching my hands under the towel, “Baby- I’m all for you.”
He leaned forward, reaching his hand under my hair, scooping my head into his hands and lifting my face to his, “But I’m not a sub.”
I kissed his warm lips.
It’s not about Dom or sub. It’s not about any kind of torture, submission, or humiliation. It’s not about the labels that we don’t fall in to. “This is all for pleasure honey. Just for your pleasure.”
We kissed again. This time deeper, giving his trust to me, knowing that I would never do anything that would make him want from me, anything less than more.
Nice. He’s a lucky guy.