As I Travel North

The Romantic Dominant
Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay

Pacific water from the bay across the state highway cools the midnight air.

Air, that which has shifted direction. It now races toward me and I can feel the briskness, wishing I had remembered to pack a jacket. I stand here sleepless yet again, iPhone in tow, typing away for the readers. I think how the Pacific Northwest summer night feels akin to how Mark Twain once described those summer evenings a hundred and fifty years ago in San Francisco.

Behind me, just twenty feet away, behind a locked heavy door lies a girl.

She is momentarily stretched outright, bound to a California King, in more ways than one.

Yes. My orange sky, forever, and when I said “forever,” I fucking meant it.

I step outside for some fresh air, quickly dressed commando, and now I can feel the head of my growing cock beginning to bulge, abutting the inseam of the jeans I wear.

“I always love the way no underwear feels for my dick,” I think. “Always hate how it feels for my balls though.”

But I won’t be jogging or running right now, so I’ll brave the potential uncomfortableness and allow my dick to punch into my inseam just a bit more. It feels good, after all, as I grow uncontrollably, captive to the thoughts of what will happen soon.

Captive, to the reality that I know between her legs, she is soaking wet right now. She couldn’t control it if she tried. Her heart is pounding; her mind is racing. Her gorgeous little kitty, slick and starting to develop a needy throb.

“I know she must be getting nervous,” I think.

“She’s been like that for over 20 minutes now.”

This thought alone sends me from semi-status to rock hard, and I reach down and grab my cock, remembering again how good it feels to become solid. To grow. To become warm. I can feel the blood rushing to my cock, and I wonder if other men realize it, or is it just me, but I know that just getting hard in and of itself feels pretty damn sensational.

I think to myself, “How wet is she? Has it escaped her lips yet? Is it running down and reached her rosebud yet? Are the bedsheets wet? I didn’t permit that, so let’s hope for her sake, she didn’t spill onto the bed.”

“Should I be stern if she soaked the sheets?”

“Should I rip them off the bed, corner by corner, and make her suck on her own wet spot?”

“Will she like that?”

“Why am I asking? We both know she will just get wetter and smile as she does it.”

We both know, she just giggled to herself as she read this, telling herself, “Daddy, you know me too well.”

Now I am at full mast, looking around to see what other travelers may be out. I contemplate putting my hand inside my pants, over the hair, under the button, all the way down and grabbing a nice solid tug on my thick, veiny, God-sure-was-good-to-me kind of cock.

“It wouldn’t take long to cum right now,” I think.

My whiskey has a few sips left and I decide to take them all at once. “The keycard barcode faces right,” I tell myself, as I walk back towards the door.

Just then, I walk back into the room and see a red blindfold over the eyes of my toy, a woman with her legs and arms stretched, looking medieval.

“Red. Always Red,” I think.

“It’s like a signature by now.”

I look down to see my prize sprawled out before me.

Natural breasts sinking down into her chest, appearing like a Michelangelo to me. A glistening cunt in full view of me and a newfound excitement beaming out of her infectious smile as she hears the door close and knows Daddy is in the room now.

“I was right. She now sits in a wet spot,” I think.

Her pretty little ass, completely soaked, shining bright light a diamond right back at me, and it makes me almost audibly sing Rihanna, but I know it would kill the mood and make no sense to her anyway, so I mute myself.

A glistening rosebud, almost screaming to me as if to say, “Daddy, I am all lubed up for you. Come fuck it! Hurt me! Fuck me and make it hurt.”

If I had the willpower to peel the corners back from the bed and make her taste herself soaked in cotton, I definitely would.

But willpower escaped my body the moment I closed the door.

I see your kitty and all I can think of is running my tongue symmetrically up your lips, to your clit, drinking up your liquid lust for me on my way toward your pretty pink bean. Pressing my upper lip against the north side of your clit, and the underside up against the tip of my tongue, and like the magic only Daddy can do, rhythmically taking what soul you had left and snatching it right out of your body.

Fingers up inside you, exploring you like it’s the 1400’s and I am braving the storm, not coming up for air. Your clit, my North Star, keeping me grounded as I find that little ball at your cervix and press under it, tapping away and peeking upward and thinking to myself they need a new word for “ownership” because what I am doing to you right now will change you for life.

Your orgasms are like tick marks in my head, / / / / and — , crossing you off and peering into your soul as I do it. You are thinking, “my god, I can’t take anymore.”

I am thinking, “it sure feels nice warming up.”

Deep inside your saturated ass, I press two thick fingers and reach deep. You are full in both holes now and I still have a free hand. My mouth has found its rhythm and you feel like you are facing the beaches at Normandy, taking fire left and right, every direction, nonstop, with no signs of letting up.

I stand up and look toward your covered eyes. I pull my drenched overworked fingers from within you. The meat of my palm now has an ache from the relentless “come here” that enslaved your O spot.

Reaching down to pull my thick, hard cock out and positioning myself between your legs.

I drop the weight of my cock upon your lips. Lifting it up a few times and dropping it down onto your pussy, over and over, so you can feel the weight of what will soon be inside you.

Sliding back and forth but not inside you, my cock resting between your lips, back, then forth, then back, then forth, again and again, teasing your needy little hole while the head of my cock runs along your extra-sensitive bean.

You are dying for me now.

I know it and I use to my advantage.

You are internally impatiently just pleading now, to have your cunt stuffed so you can feel that full feeling you have been thinking about since I bound you to the bed.

I ask you, “who owns you?”

Like a needy little slut, with no hesitation, you say, “you do Daddy. Fuck! You do! Fuck fuck fuck! You do!”

“You’re goddamn right I do, Kitten.”

You are craving me it a way that makes a week of edging seem like nothing. Craving me, like never before, which is saying a lot. I can hear your “lordy mama” expression with a thousand exclamation points behind it, that only you say, but you aren’t actually speaking because words are an impossible feat for you right now.

I know I want to make it hurt a little.

I run the backside of my hand across your lips and pussy, wiping you up the best I can quickly. I don’t use any spit on my cock. I want myself dry when I press inside you.

The tip of my dick now at your lips, pushing inside you, pulling your lips a little inward and I know it’s just a little pain, not much, but it’s that thought you are having that I’m after. That thought, where you cannot wait until I’m completely inside you because it kind of hurts, just a little, and you know your juices inside you will soon save you once you have coated me.

Pressing into you all the way back I recognize you know it’s that little bit of pain I seek. But I am fully inside you now. You have reached safety. My head kisses your cervix and stays there awhile.

Reaching out my hand over your neck I squeeze for two reasons: one, to frighten and elate you, and two, so I can have the leverage to pull your needy little cunt into me as I fuck you like a rag doll.

Thrashing away with unused lungs and a low heartbeat, I pounce your poor feeble little overworked body and your orgasms crush you like an avalanche. “Suck it up, little one,” I think to myself because my motor is just getting revved and I have a lot more fuel in my tank.

I ache to see those thighs grip me at the waist in a spasm, and once they do, I’m taking your ass and you can count on feeling that hurt-ecstasy sensation. You shiver and I pull out and choose the next hole in which I own.

Pressing hard, I wait for the pop inside your ass that acts like a signal we have entered you safely. I hold steady and see you adjust, then straight back deep in you and I rest my hardness and watch the pain turn into pleasure.

I pounce away on your little bum and wait for the orgasm to take hold of you and I see you scream as only these backside orgasms bring.

My time is up and your orgasms are in the “I lost track a long time ago” category. I fill your ass with my seed and watch you sink into the bed in ecstasy.

Yeah, Kitten. Go ahead. I know you want to.

Rub that little kitty for me now and feel one take over you.

Permission granted.

Oh, I forgot to tell you — I Love You.

The Romantic Dominant

Written by

Erotica from a male perspective. Middle-aged American Dominant. Read-Enjoy-Touch. Website: Medium archive:

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