The Romantic Dominant
Jul 20 · 8 min read

“Oh no! Dear God! Fucking TRD is back with another baseball reference.”

Easy there, Miss. Just hold your horses, be patient and stand there in the on-deck circle touching your kitty, while I run my finger with precision along your curve, trying to find your seam. But it’s just a matter of time now because we both know that Papa’s “up-and-in” is the kind that clears dugouts.

Obnoxiously confident and assured that the count is in my favor, your bases are empty, little one, and you’ve been riding the pine for far too long now. It doesn’t help that today I’m throwing heat, and you might as well be swinging chopsticks because soon enough, I’m going to take your orgasm, grip it in my palm, and feed it right back to you with the big leagues written all over it.

My arrogance, obnoxious as it may be, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to carve you up little lady, and there isn’t a lot you can do about it now. You already started reading, and when you did, I snatched your curiosity, and now I am just making the ball dance on the corners, laughing inside to myself while I watch you swing and miss.

Don’t believe me? Hmm.

Go ahead…get comfortable. That top button in your jeans sure is annoying, isn’t it? Digging right into your waist?

Go ahead. Nobody likes that feeling, do they? Now unzip. Lean back. And slide into home. I mean, since you are ‘getting comfortable’ and all…

Ready? Good.

Now step into the batter’s box, little lady…

And so it goes…


Image Credit: PxHere

Two souls, with every reason in the world to rip each other’s clothes off, meet at a park one night. The sky so vivid, I have the thought that I could reach up and pick the stars from the sky. Fireflies bounce in the periphery and the birds in the lake just float on, waiting for life that the morning will bring.

Nobody else is around — just you and me. I think I hear a car passing by on the road across the water, but only every 20 minutes or so. The trees are thick and I have you all to myself, no matter how public this feels.

The heat of summer among us, feeling the warm remnants of the day still lingering on the soil beneath our feet. We both stand here in unspoken nervousness, just making conversation, and a park bench under a dim light serves as our furniture. Currently it serves as our couch, but in reality, both of us are aching inside for it to become our bed.

The sexual tension is something so thick you could cut with a knife.

I look into your eyes and see a giddy schoolgirl behind the alpha badass, and somehow it puts my mind at ease, just knowing even though I feel nervous, I can still have this effect on you. I tell myself, “soon enough, the two-by-fours bolted to steel is where I’ll put you down onto your back, pull those shorts down, lift your legs back, and bring heaven to your clit.”

“Soon enough,” I convince myself. I have to tell myself this or it will never happen, and I have to have it happen. I have to. I want you so fucking bad.

I can see the moment unfolding before it happens, almost like a daydream happening, scenes playing out in my hopes and wishes, picturing you where I take your body and make it mine. Picturing, where my lips and tongue consume your clit, and it feels so vivid I wonder if it’s real or just fantasy.

“Enough of this shit,” I tell myself. “I’m a grown man for fuck’s sake. What am I nervous about?”

That’s all the “take-a-knee pep talk” I need to allow myself the courage to grab you by the belt loop on your shorts, and pull you toward me. My nonverbal communication shouting at you as loud as I can shout, that I own you already.

This is not by accident.

It was no mistake that my first move of intimate contact is one that reminds you that I am not like other men. I am assertive; I move toward you with self-assurance. You didn’t come for a weak man, and besides, if you are that opposed to me devouring your pussy, you can use your big girl voice.

I kiss you and it takes me all of two seconds to know you want me just as bad as I want you. I know now that all those jitters were for naught. The game is on, Princess, and you are going to find out the hard way what I am made out of.

My hand moves up your body and doesn’t stop at your cheek, but rather you find yourself in an iron grip on your neck, squeezing romance right over your throat as my tongue meets yours. I don’t even have to check to know your kitty is soaked from my gesture; I know you and I know you are flooded.

Your hair is yanked with the passion of a romance novel; your neck, squeezed with viscous adoration for the woman my lips can’t seem to leave. My god I am going insane inside for you.

“Fuck I want you,” I think.

“Fuck.”

I reach down between your legs, ignoring my inner voice that asks if it’s too soon, all so I can feel your warmth as I slide my hand under your panties, to feel your bare, wet, aching pussy. Two fingers running along your lips and clit, and then I grab you by the meat of your cunt to send the signal that I’m claiming you. Like a beacon, flashing red, signaling that I’m not here to be a coward.

As my mouth meets your kitty, I hear your first moans and it does more than vindicate me. It shocks me to my core. It forces me to take a moment while trying my damndest to keep the pace going so that it feels good for you, but I am now consumed in your sounds, still attempting to dig deep within myself to keep pressing on, and keep pushing through, until I can see those legs shake. I look up at you with those beautiful closed eyes. I study your movements, taking note of every tremor that happens to you, like fireworks being shot into the sky, just maintaining my rhythm until I can see the grand finale.

“I need this,” I tell myself. I need that quiver like it’s an oasis after a long walk across Death Valley. I’ll stay here for a week if I have to, and to be quite honest, I can’t think of a place I’d rather stay for a week.

Facedown, inside your garden. Tasting your lust for me.

I take a moment for myself, drop my mouth down but just a couple of inches, and dive my tongue as deep inside your hole as I possibly can go. Rapture is found as your salinity covers my taste buds. I soak in your sweet salt, embracing the rawness of you, drenched in your wetness, my beard completely saturated now, feeding myself more fuel to keep on.

I recharge — strictly from the juices dripping from your now throbbing kitty. I move slightly back up top, making your clit go wild, and I slide my fingers inside you, motioning your G to come out and play with me.

My other fingers stretch you and reach deep as I keep your G in contact with my pointer finger and I take a moment, gaze up, and just get even more emboldened seeing the havoc I have created in you.

Your sounds are driving me insane; your body, moving away and into me at the same time.

I hear you saying the words I am aching to hear.

I am dying for them.

I am working, towards a goal, and I will never stop working, to hear those words.

You say them.

“I’m cumming.”

I respond, “cum for me. Good girl.”

I stand up and grip your hair and pull my cock out, and I see the thickness you are about to force into your mouth is something you approve of. Immediately, I have the most intense sensation come over me. Your mouth is one of aggressive softness; I am beside myself, trying to make sense of it all.

Up and down and up and down, each time is like a shock to my psyche. An intellectual man, I am consigned to not much more than a single-celled organism, with the only cohesive thought I can muster being, “fuck, this feels amazing.”

I stand up to take ownership of your mouth, fucking it with aggression, and the gagging and choking sounds are to die for. Staring down at eyes that never stop looking, it’s as though you know already how badly I need that eye contact, and like a good girl, you give it to me.

Eyes fixed on me, gagging, choking, saliva everywhere, tears beading down your eyes from the intensity of my thick cock pushing into your mouth, over and over with not one break or let up.


I lean back onto the chair again, and tell you, “fuck me with your cunt.”

Almost like a stripper, you drop your shorts to the floor, pull your ass cheeks apart, press your lips over the head of my saliva-soaked cock, and drop all the way down to meet your cervix.

I just sit there.

Telling myself, “I never do this. I never allow this.”

Whatever, your insides feel even more amazing than your mouth, which I didn’t think possible. I can see as you bounce up and down, beating the head of my dick into you, over and over, me yanking your hair and pressing a thumb into your rosebud, you have the keys to the car for the moment, and you are gonna drive this cock as fast and hard as you can.

You have your permission to run with it, and you take it.

Finding that groove and beating your kitty away on my cock you cum again, the third time now, the first from my mouth and the second from when you touched your pussy as you choked on my dick.

Image Credit: PxHere

“Fuck this,” I tell myself. “I am going to fuck her good and there is no way in hell I am going to allow myself to cum without breaking a sweat.”

Yanking you by the neck and hair, I lift you up and shove my cock inside you.

As deep and hard as I can manage, each time I press into you, I can feel you budge, hitting your end and knowing damn well that I making hard contact with your A-spot. I don’t even need this confirmation from my dick because I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your moans.


Pressing into you, over and over and over, mother nature catches up with me and I empty my cum inside your kitty. I hold there for a while, making sure you get the slutty sensation of it running down your inner thigh, feeling your try to tighten your grip over my cock, knowing all too well that you are spent.

I then press you down onto your knees, and you stare at the cum soaking my cock, mixed in your wetness, and I say it again. “Be my good girl?”

The words are like a firing pin to you.

You devour our liquid sin glazing over my overly sensitive dick. You do it with pride.

You do it like a Good Girl.

Sensual Enchantment

Celebrating the enchanted nature of life, love and sexuality

The Romantic Dominant

Written by

Erotica from a male perspective. Middle-aged American Dominant. Read-Enjoy-Touch. Website: www.the-romantic-dominant.com. Medium archive: http://bit.ly/2E5NQQp

Sensual Enchantment

Celebrating the enchanted nature of life, love and sexuality

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