My partner and I have a strict set of rules when it comes to freeuse and BDSM. The most important one? I’m only available for freeuse when I’m wearing a specific pendant. As long as it rests against my skin, I’m his to take. Safe words are non-negotiable, but beyond that… anything goes.
Wearing the pendant puts me in a constant state of anticipation, leaving me soaking without him even touching me. Last weekend, I wore it all day. Every teasing glance, every casual brush of his fingers sent waves of heat through me. But he didn’t touch me he let me simmer, let the need build to an unbearable intensity.
The first time he finally laid his hands on me was in the car on our way to dinner. His fingers ghosted over my thigh, creeping up just enough to tease the soaked fabric between my legs. I nearly came from that alone. By the time I stepped out of the car, I was already dripping.
Throughout dinner, every near-touch, every smirk on his face sent shivers through me. The unspoken possibility of him dragging me to the restroom and using me however he pleased had me squeezing my thighs together in desperate frustration.
By the time we got back in the car, I was a trembling, aching mess. I begged him pleaded for relief but he just grinned, continuing his slow, torturous game, his fingers pushing me to the edge over and over.
The second we got home, he scooped me up and tossed me onto the couch like a ragdoll. My panties were gone in an instant, and he plunged into me without hesitation. I squirted the moment he entered, my body completely overwhelmed after a full day of pent-up need.
That night, he used me relentlessly, unleashing the desire he had so cruelly restrained. By the end, I was left in a quivering, breathless heap marked, claimed, and completely satisfied.
