Setting the Timer

The Romantic Dominant
Jun 26 · 3 min read
Image by Delaforet from Pixabay

“Just lay down, and lean back,” I said.

“We are going to see how long you can handle this. How long you can handle me — touching you.”

As your pants dropped to the floor and your back hit the bed, my hand began exploring you and I took a mental note of how wet you were at the beginning.

“Not quite seeping through your panties yet”, I thought, yet I had a mission to see you drenched, completely saturated just from my touch.

“I will not speak a word; no kissing or touching you any other parts of you,” I thought.

Determined to see you completely soaked, glistening and dripping through your cotton, I had my goals set and I wasn’t about to slow down for anything. I wanted to see how badly you could ache for me, and I wanted to see physical proof of it.

“I can be here all day,” I told myself, and I had planned to. “Not often do I get opportunities to test your desire for me, and practically quantify it,” I thought.

Immediately, I felt the warmth and the moisture between your legs; by the one minute mark, you were already leaving remnants of your lust for me, doused in your own lust, just dying to be filled as I toyed with you.

A couple of minutes into this and you were already using your words, although I strictly told you not to, begging to me with your pleas of “I can’t take it anymore. Just fuck me already!”

“Tiss, tiss,” I thought to myself.

“She just bought herself another five minutes.”

By ten minutes in, you finally figured it out that I wasn’t budging, looking like you just sprinted a 5K, with beads of sweat cascading down your wet neck, although nowhere nearly as wet as the now soaked pair of panties that cling to you like you just went swimming with a shirt on.

I break my own rule, like I always do, and decide to whisper into your ear the words, “you are being a good girl. You are making me very proud.”

Your submissive soul comes to life in a hurry, and when you hear this, you dig deep to find the complacency that you are dying to reach. “I can do this a little longer,” you tell yourself.

Meanwhile, my hand keeps pressing between your lips, then rubbing your clit, then your wet lips again, then your clit, faster and firmer, picking up the pace, all until I see you just about to cum. Just about to release. Just about there, when your knees are about to fold inward, so of course I ease back a little, snatching that orgasm right away from you that felt so close you could taste it. The sexiness in your moans and your pouty face are enough to make my dick punch into my jeans.

I bring my soaking wet fingers to my mouth, then place them between your legs again, then your mouth, then back to find the wetness between your legs one more time, stuffing your panties deep inside your pussy as I reach for your G.

“Fuck this,” I think.

“She’s been a good girl and I just can’t take it anymore.”

I pull out my hard cock to find precum already graced the inside of my boxer briefs. Pulling your drenched panties off, I could ring them out they are so wet, but instead, I wad them up and stuff them in your mouth at the exact same moment my cock presses deep inside you and the sounds you make are ones that would Mozart envious.

Pounding away inside you, it’s like fucking a glass of water you are so wet, driving myself hard and deep over and over and you cum immediately from the built-up tension I’ve drawn out of you.

I brought you to a boil and then turned up the heat, and the magnitude of your orgasm could not be more intense. Thumbing your clit as my dick beats away on your insides, your muffled screams from your panties in your mouth are still loud enough to wake the neighbors.

I finish by unloading my cum inside you and kiss your stuffed mouth with raw passion.

The Romantic Dominant

Written by

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