“You know I won’t lead,” she said. “Or initiate…”
There was a pause. She waited for him to respond.
“I don’t want you to lead.”
She read his words as if it sealed the deal.
Questions pop into her head. Scenarios.
Leaning back into her pillows on her bed, she spread her legs and touched herself.
“What are you doing,” he wanted to know after a while.
She smiled to herself and turned her phone toward her nether region.
A quick click, then another one, fed her arousal already seeping through her body.
She glanced at her images. They’re a little shocking, taking up her whole screen.
This is what he would see if he was here, she thought to herself and debated if she should send them to him.
There was one from above, showing her fingers disappear in her flesh. And another one, from the opposite direction. Displaying her pussy, swollen and moist, from an angle that she’s only seen in porn clips.
But unlike some porn, she didn’t think of herself, of her pussy, as vulgar. She actually found it rather erotic, despite the in-your-face quality of the shot.
This is what I look like, she thought to herself. This is what men see. What men want.
Reaching a comfort level with parts of her body she doesn’t usually see from that angle has been a journey of self-discovery.
It has also led to a deeper understanding of her own sexuality. Her needs, her desires, and her issues.
She thought she had a lot of issues.
Men told her she had issues…
Shaking her head at her own naivete, she reviewed her pictures again.
Then, she picked the less obtrusive image and clicked send.
“Hm…” he typed. “Wanna lick you.”
She imaged what it would feel like, for him to actually do that.
Lick her. Willingly, not as some sort of obligatory expectation that led nowhere for her.
Born out of desire, and arousal.
She played with herself as she imagined him looking at her photo.
He’s probably stroking himself, she thought and decided to shock him with the other image as well.
A stream of words flooded her phone almost immediately.
Kiss you. Lick you, suck…finger…
Maybe he’s cleaning up, she pondered as she re-read his words from earlier, fantasizing what it would be like to be with him.
After a while, a new message popped up.
“You ever been tied up?”
The question surprised her. Partly because she suspected he wasn’t really the type to be into kink, and partly because he already knew what her answer was going to be. He knows how inexperienced she is in sexual matters.
But she humored him anyway.
“No,” she typed.
“What about light restraints,” he probed her further.
“You mean scarves?”
She has overcome her shyness about these topics some time ago, driven by an insatiable need to understand more about what she’s been missing.
“Yes, not tight,” he responded.
She imagined herself in this position. Hands restrained, maybe legs too, and at his mercy.
“There’s something about you in a submissive role.”
She read his sentence a few times, wondering if he had experience with submissive women. Was it him who declared women to be aggressive, or was it something she read someplace?
It was unfathomable, to her, to even consider herself in a sexually submissive scenario. And yet…
She let her thought carry her away into a subspace of erotic daydreaming.
“You want to tie me up?” she finally asked him directly. “With scarves?”
“Yes. And maybe a blindfold too,” he added. “Part of the submissive appeal…”
She tried to process his image of her. Bound, maybe blindfolded, open and available. His hands, his tongue on her, roaming, licking…
There it was. His declaration about her emerging, submissive mentality, it reassured her in ways she hadn’t considered.
He understands, she thought. He gets it.
Dare she admit it to him? Or, more importantly, dare she admit it to herself?
Discovering her submission as a state, rather than an act, has been a journey for her.
Taking the first step to acknowledge this about herself may allow her opportunities she hadn’t deemed possible before.
Question is, what is the next step? And when?