Switch

I wrote Malcolm a letter a couple of weeks ago.  Things hadn't been going very smoothly for us, again, and it just felt like it was time to write out the challenges, and see if there was any hope of fixing any of them.  Our relationship is rocky, usually with me getting fed up at being last in his life after baby mommas and brothers and sisters, and usually after he lets me down repeatedly.  The bright spot is that neither of us has ever doubted the level of love the other has.  I know he loves me, and he knows I love him gobs.  But when is love just not enough?

So, it was at the last party that I decided that although I loved Malcolm to distraction, and hadn't quite figured out what to do about the problem he is, that he was an absolutely horrendous boyfriend.  I decided to call it quits, and just call a spade a spade...we were friends with benefits.  He's a fabulous friend, and a decidedly superior benefit.  But I couldn't seem to make the jump to call us boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.

He really hated that.

The problem for me is that he is the ultimate lover.  Really, unless I take great time and pain to train someone new, it's all a step down.  And most men aren't all that interested in learning a woman.  They want quick satisfaction, they want to leave their mark on the runway, and they want to get the hell out.  Sad, but all too true.  So I can literally fuck myself sick with hundreds of others, and never really get the quality of orgasm that he gives me...and gives me consistently and EVERY time.  It leaves me feeling unsatisfied, and it makes me voracious for sex.  It makes me want to be his filthy nasty whore.

He knows that, too.

We worked each other up over sexting all day, and couldn't wait for a decent time.  I put my daughter to bed, accommodated for her care for the evening, and virtually ran to him.  He's not unlike a spider in a web, watching me pull at my bonds to him.  He gives me a certain amount of slack, then, when my anger fades and I start to tire of fighting him, he starts winding the cord tighter and tighter, until I'm back in his lair, and he's waiting to devour me.  It wasn't much different this night.  I stood there defiantly, like I have hundreds of times before.  I hurled obscenities at him.  I told him how many men I had fucked in his absence.  I told him I had REVELED in my sexuality without him.  He laughed, wrapped his hand in my hair and pulled my head back.  As he paused, millimeters away from my lips, he whispered my shame to me; "Not one of them made you cum like I do."  He covered my mouth with his, and forced his tongue into my mouth, fucking my mouth with it like a promise of all the other holes he'd fuck very soon.  When we came up for air, I told him that I hated him for that, so he wound my hair tighter in his hand, and said "They'll never know you the way I do.".

He made me suck his cock deep in to my throat, never letting go of my hair.  He set the rhythm, he determined how deep or how fast.  This was his show, he was Dom, and he wasn't going to relent until I knew who I belonged to.  Period.  He raised his hand to discipline me, and he bent me over the bed so that he could fuck me like the slut I am.  He demanded I tell him who I belong to.  Not tonight, I would not cave tonight.  "FUCK YOU!" Slap, Smack. "WHO DO YOU BELONG TO BITCH?"  "FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!!" Slap Smack Backhand.  "TELL ME WHO DO YOU BELONG TO WHORE?"  "ABSOLUTELY NOBODY FUCKER!!"  The discipline increased in intensity, designed to break me, designed to make me heel. He even slammed his cock into my ass without prep, knowing it is excruciating to take his massive cock like that.  But I was too enraged, I could not submit, not this night.

He rolled me over, and fucked me missionary, fusing our mouths together, kissing me until breathing was as much a being a part of him as fucking him was.  He moaned, and said "FUCK ME your pussy is SO DAMN GOOD!"  "Isn't it though", I said to him.  "How much do you love my pussy?"  "So much" he said, his eyes rolling up as I tightened and contracted over him.  "Who do you belong to, Malcolm?"  He stopped for a moment, and he actually broke. "You, I belong to you.  I am your slave, I would do anything you asked me to do for you.  I would lick your body, drink anything that came out of you, make you cum until you were satisfied."

And so we switched roles, with me becoming the Domme, and Malcolm becoming the sub.  It's awkward, most days, but it works for us, for now.  It won't last for long, his need to assert his dominance will return, and when it does there'll be hell to pay.  But for the short term, I'm enjoying my new power.