Fiction : the femdom place
I like to be masked when I suck a cock. I feel ... less submissive, less exposed.
I put my hand under his balls, reddened, swollen, heavy, so sensitive that he hardly knows how to differentiate pleasure from pain when I caress them.
I think of the injuries we caused. They are there, under this tender and thin skin, on the surface of these fragile orbs, warm and soft.
I weigh it all, I lick his penis slowly, up and down, then tickle the tip. My tongue discovers his penis, which gradually hardens and is proudly discovered.
I take it in my mouth, little by little. It's hot, it's good, it's wet, it's hard, masculine, virile, proud despite the outrages. I love to feel my lips curling around the swollen, irrigated veins.
I take it all in my mouth, I start back and forth, very slowly, then faster and faster, changing the angles of my head. I use my tongue, I take care of him. It's infuriating to say, but I feel in one of my roles as a woman. If the others knew that. But I am sure others feel the same way.
And in a way, I feel in my place, comforted, peaceful. Eating this cock makes me wet, I need to feel it inside me, I need to cum.