thatsOKsweetie

The grandest of passionate explosions are based on the finest of subtleties.

I was naturally drawn to taking the lead in sex from the very beginning, and exerting control was the first soft kink I ever indulged in. My college girlfriend and I used to make out on the couch all the time. I'd visit her at home with her family, and when it got late, once her parents left the family room for other parts, we'd kiss hot and heavy... meaning that the kisses were hot and her tits were heavy; she was a busty one.  

This was obviously before the Internet and knowledge about kink was well hidden in the dark corners of libraries and bookstores and nudie mags, so I didn't even know that what I was doing was a thing or had a term for it. Hell, I was just a kid, but it seemed to me that the best sex I could give her, with her parents in the next room and our clothes still on was to sink my fingers into her drenched pussy, bring her just shy of the perfect orgasm, and then to ruin it, making her fight to cross the finish line. I'd suddenly fuck with the timing as she approached what was about to be a smooth, rewarding vanilla O. She'd be headed in the direction of having the climax she was used to having in her bedroom, late at night while she dreamt of my handsome college boy cock. Just before she hit the peak, as she slapped her hand down on top of mine between her legs to force me into giving her the perfect school girl climax, I quickly showed her who was boss, and I taught her a different way to experience her sex as she fought my strong hand, trying to get me back in rhythm. 

I'd be stubborn as hell for the last few seconds of the buildup, and once she burst, I fell still and threw her into one or two seconds of freefall, barely stimulating that tense, confused knob of hers. Then I'd rub her like mad, just like a cheap vibrator, so she would have a sort of surprise orgasm after having given up on it once she has started bucking into my stiff, motionless hand. 

Lovingly cruel, I was in total command of that wet mess of a woman for about a minute or two, going in the polar opposite direction of where she expected to go with her schoolgirl climax, then delivering her to a new destination that was far hotter than anything her little fingers could produce when she was playing. 

Control, edge, deny and deliver sparingly. A man's job is to ensure she gets the finest in life, even if the road to get there is less than obvious.