Head on His Belly, Mouth on His Cock: My First Surrender to a Dominant Stranger

His building loomed dark, just blocks from my place. Ten years back, 25, single, horny as fuck after solo whisky nights jerking to porn. That video of a shemale slurping an older guy’s cock flipped a switch. I craved it – being his eager slut. Posted on the hookup site: ‘Newbie girl seeks mature bossy man.’ Boom, messages flooded. His stood out: 47, bit of gut, girlfriend elsewhere, ready to train a young sub.

Chats heated fast. Webcam on – there he was, rough, not hot-model pretty, but his cock? Thick head popping as he stroked. ‘Like it?’ Heart slammed. ‘Fuck yes.’ Days of dirty texts, my pussy dripping. Weekend hits, ping: ‘Come now. Ring, enter, strip naked, suck and leave.’ No more screens. Urgency burned. Shaved smooth, drove over buzzed on lust.

The Approach

Intercom: ‘It’s Anna.’ Click. Stairs up, pulse thundering. Door ajar. Inside, dim salon. Clothes off, naked, standing stiff. Minutes drag, skin prickling. Footsteps. He looms, naked except grin, hands a red lace thong. ‘Put it on, bitch.’ Voice gravel. Cheeks flame, but I slide it up – string bites my ass crack, pussy lips swell against lace. Cock – wait, my clit throbs hard. He smirks. ‘Kneel.’

First time here was tame: head on his soft belly, watching that gland pulse inches from my nose as he jerked to porn. Ten minutes, then spurts hit air near my face. Left throbbing. Now, escalation. No backing out.

The Explosion

Knees hit carpet. ‘Unzip me. Say it right.’ ‘Yes, Sir.’ Belt clinks, pants drop. Slip down – cock half-hard, musky scent hits like perfume finally real. Gland brushes my cheek, nose, lips. Swells huge. Five minutes teasing slaps, wet precum smears. ‘Suck, slut.’ Lips part, tongue swirls salty tip. Inhale deep – sweat, man, intoxicating. Hands cup balls, bob slow then fast, lips tight suction. Gags hit as he thrusts. ‘Look up.’ Flash – photo of cock stuffing my mouth. Recoil? His palm clamps neck. ‘Deeper.’ Obey. Slobber drips, throat stretches.

Twenty minutes, face slick. He pulls out, jerks furious. ‘Don’t move. Face ready.’ Eyes shut – hot jets lash nose, cheeks, lips. Sticky, thick, humiliating bliss. Flash again. Cum tastes bitter on tongue. ‘Bathroom, clean. Dress, keep the thong. Out.’ Water splashes face, but scent lingers. Pull jeans over lace – rubs clit with every step. Door shuts.

Street air cool, cross a guy – eyes flick, or imagination? Feel marked, sperm-dried slut. Drive home, thong soaked. Door barely shut, fingers dive in. Cum twice replaying gland slaps, throat fucks. Days later? More. But that night, stranger’s cum on skin, I was alive – addicted to the rush, the drop from high to ghost.