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I like being on my knees. I love kneeling before a man and taking his cock in my mouth. I love that he is standing at attention twice. He stands and sways and fights the weakness his knees. I love that power, that control. In that moment, I own him.
But there’s another side of being on my knees. There’s crawling. For me, crawling isn’t about power. Crawling is about humiliation, about desperation. It brings to my mind a million songs that talk about crawling back, crawling through something dreadful to return. But crawling as a penance…
To be ordered to crawl, to feel the carpet bite into my knees or maybe the hard smooth press of wood or rough drag of concrete. To be on both hands and knees, not in control but the one controlled. I want my breasts to hang down heavy and sway with each movement, while I know that my ass is raised and on display. To crawl to make amends, to show devotion, to find transcendence. Yes, I think I like that idea.
I want to crawl to you, as you sit comfortably on a chair or sofa. You, sitting at ease, fully clothed. Perhaps wearing a suit and tie, perhaps wearing some sort of vestment to preside over me.
want you to watch me move slowly, deliberately across the floor. I want to reach your feet, your legs and finish my penance. Only to be ordered to crawl, to crawl back across the room, out of the room. To crawl to the toy box and select a paddle or crop. To carry it back, yes in my mouth, yes, still on my hands and knees. I want to crawl, not back to you in shame, but through shame. To return with the tool of my punishment, and to offer it and myself to you, so I may reach transcendence. To stay on my hands and knees, and with each crack of the paddle feel myself shift forward. To feel my heavy breasts sway and shake with each smack.
I want to stay on my knees, until I feel purged. Until I have submitted fully and totally…
The other night I ran into her. I’d developed a bit of a crush on her since our first meeting. She was a witty woman, and charming in a shy way. She was also an adorable, pixie-like woman at just about five feet tall, with long dark hair. We had struck up a club friendship, chatting about music, the scene, and complementing one another’s sartorial choices.
So when I saw her the other night, after not seeing her for months, I decided I had to make my move. I’d had some absinthe, and the green fairy gave me courage. I found her on the patio, and when she and I were alone, I told her that I had a crush on her.
And then she leaned into me, I assumed she was going to say something. The club, even outside, was loud. Instead, she kissed my neck. She kept kissing, her lips moving down my neck to my bare shoulder. I shifted back and tilted her head up, and I kissed her back. Her lips were soft and hesitant. I think her hesitancy made me bold; I reached up and buried my hands in her long dark hair. I shifted closer to her and deepened the kiss. My tongue darting between her lips, I tasted whiskey and sugar. We sat on the patio, kissing and giggling.
She twisted her hands into my hair, tugging lightly at first, but growing more fierce. She kissed me hard. Her tongue invaded my mouth. I slid my knee between hers, and felt her smooth, silky thighs against mine. She moaned in response and melted into my arms. I pulled away, only slightly, and bit her lip softly. She entwined her fingers in mine, “We should go,” She whispered, breathlessly. I nodded, breathless myself.
We held hands, and we walked out of the club together. We hurried along the darkened streets, to her car. It was a cold night, and neither of us had worn coats. I felt my nipples stiffen more as the chill slipped over me. They had parked off the main street, on a dimly lit side street. Only a few closed store fronts lined the street. She pulled me to her car, an SUV.
We slipped into the backseat of the car. She went in before me, her short flared skirt, riding up and revealing the curve of her ass encased in black lace panties. I slid into the car after her. We locked the doors. She rested her back against the car door. Her legs, bent at the knee resting on top of the seat. She looked at me, “This is all you, baby.” She smiled. I bit my lip, and leaned into kiss her again.
It was awkward, being in a car. I half lay on top of her, which limited both of us. I wriggled back, as far as I could. I slid my fingers under the hem of her tight tank top, and before I could ask, she reached down and pulled her shirt off. I giggled and buried my face between her breasts. As I licked and nipped at the exposed flesh, she wiggled around, thrusting her breasts forward, at me as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. Her tits tumbled free, and I took one of her nipples into my mouth. She sighed and her hands tangled in my hair. I laved, and sucked at her nipples. I moved from side to side, as she whimpered and moaned. Listening to her made me wetter.
I continued teasing her nipples. Licking lightly for a moment and then, sucking her breast deep into my mouth. I trailed one hand down her side. When I reached the hem of her skirt, I paused a moment, I looked up at her, “Is this ok?”
She nodded, a bit frantically. I flicked her skirt aside, and paused my kissing and licking. I moved back enough to see her. I sat on my knees on the car seat, over hear. She lay topless, her skirt around her waist, with her lace panties on display. I ran my fingers over her legs, savoring the silky feel of her pale legs. The lace was rougher against my fingertips, as I traced along the edges of her panties. She wiggled her hips, and gave a soft moan. “Should I help you take off my panties?” she asked? Her eyes glittered in the reflected streetlights. I nodded. She shimmied out of her panties, and I was impressed with her dexterity in the small space. I moved back toward her, but she shook her head. “First, you need to take off your top.”
I smiled and slowly pulled my top off, tossing it behind me. I quickly removed my bra without her prompting. I was sitting up on my knees, and knew that any passerby would have a clear view of my naked tits. The street was empty, and the fogged over windows gave an illusion of privacy. Of course, anyone seeing the windows would know exactly what was going on.
She shifted, sitting up almost eye level to my breasts. She actually licked her lips, before licking me. Her soft tongue dragged in small circles over my flesh, avoiding my nipples. “You tease” I whispered, as her hair tickled across my bare belly. She laughed and drew her hand up to kneed one breast while lapping at the other. When she finally flicked her tongue over my nipple, I thought I could cum on the spot. All her teasing ceased as she sucked and nibbled on my nipples. It was my turn to moan and writhe.
I ran my fingers down her belly, reaching between her thighs. I could feel her heat even before I reached her vulva. She bit harder as I skimmed my fingers over her labia. I could feel her wetness seeping out. She pulled slightly back, “Baby, you need to fuck me” she panted. Her eyes met mine in the darkness, the reflected light from the street glittering in her eyes. “I need you, now” she said and moved up to kiss me. As her lips closed over mine, I slipped my fingers between her labia. I reveled in her hot, wetness. I let my fingers glide though her arousal, until I reached her clit. She gasped as I brushed my fingers lightly over her bud. “Is this what you want?” I asked her. She nodded, and kissed me again. I started rubbing small circles on her clit. Softly and slowly moving, letting her response guide my movements. I kept up the slow pace, until she started thrust her hips against me. I rubbed harder, and let her thrusting set the speed. She bit into the flesh of my breast as she came. I felt her quiver against my fingers, as her movements slowed.
She rested her forehead against my shoulder. I listened to her ragged breathing, until she whispered, “Now, it’s my turn.”