The notification pinged on my phone, pulling me out of my late-night scrolling. A like on one of my stories. I clicked on the profile. Her bio was sparse, but her photos? Intriguing. I sent her a quick thank you note, expecting nothing more than a polite reply. But when her message popped up, it was anything but ordinary.

“I prefer reading over watching porn. Your stories… they do something for me.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly after that. She lived in Leongatha, an hour’s drive from me. When I suggested meeting for coffee or dinner, her response was immediate.

“Let’s skip the drinks and dinners. Come over. My parents are out of town.”

Direct. Bold. Exactly my type.

The drive felt like an eternity, my mind racing with anticipation. When I pulled up to her place, she was outside, cigarette in hand, pacing nervously. Her loose track pants and oversized t-shirt did little to hide the hints of what lay beneath. She smiled when she saw me, her blue eyes catching the glow of the porch light. Mesmerizing.

“Hey,” I said, stepping closer. “Nervous?”

She exhaled a plume of smoke, her lips curving into a smirk. “A little. You?”

“Not anymore,” I replied, closing the distance between us. My hand reached for her neck, fingers wrapping around her delicate throat. Her breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she looked up at me. Those eyes—god, those eyes—were locked on mine, wide with a mix of curiosity and desire. I didn’t wait for permission. My lips crashed against hers, and she responded instantly, her hands gripping my shoulders as she kissed me back with equal fervor.

Her track pants and t-shirt were gone in seconds, revealing the leather bodysuit I’d only seen glimpses of in her photos. The straps crisscrossed her neck, the material clinging to her curves like a second skin. Absolutely stunning.

“Come inside,” she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement.

She led me into the kitchen, offering me a glass of water. I drank it quickly, my eyes never leaving hers. Setting the glass aside, I moved towards her, backing her against the cabinet wall. My hand returned to her neck, my other slipping between her legs. She gasped as my fingers found her, already wet and eager.

“Look at me,” I commanded, my voice low but firm.

Her eyes snapped open, locking onto mine as I worked her with my fingers. Her moans filled the room, each one sending a jolt of heat straight to my groin. When her body tensed, her orgasm washing over her, I made sure she kept her eyes on mine. The way her pupils dilated, the way her lips parted in a silent scream—perfect.

“Bedroom,” I ordered, releasing her neck.

She led me down the hallway, her steps unsteady but eager. The sight that greeted me when we entered the room was almost too much to process. The bed was surrounded by toys—whips, feather ticklers, blindfolds. A submissive’s paradise.

But I didn’t want the toys yet. I wanted her.

I pushed her onto the bed, positioning myself between her legs. Her leather bodysuit was peeled off, revealing her sheer lingerie beneath. My cock pressed against her entrance, and she gasped as I pushed inside. Her body was tight, warm, and inviting. I started slow, savoring the way she clenched around me, but soon I couldn’t hold back. My thrusts became harder, faster, and her screams of pleasure only fueled me further.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her nails digging into my back.

I didn’t. For twenty minutes, I pounded into her, each thrust eliciting another cry of ecstasy. She came again and again, her body writhing beneath mine. When I finally pulled out, she was a trembling mess, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

I reached for the blinds, tearing off a strip of fabric to use as a blindfold. She didn’t resist as I tied it around her eyes, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. The feather tickler came next, its soft touch tracing patterns along her skin. She squirmed under the sensation, her gasps turning into moans as I switched to the whip. The sharp crack of leather against her skin made her cry out, but she didn’t ask me to stop. She loved it.

When I entered her again, it was unexpected. Her body convulsed as she came instantly, her nails raking down my arms. I kept going, losing myself in the rhythm of our bodies. When I finally pulled out, I used my cock to roughly rub her clit, and she squirted, her pleasure soaking the sheets.

The dildo was next, and then her ass. Tight. Incredible. She came again and again, her body trembling with each climax. When I finally pulled out, she was a wreck, her breathing ragged, her body limp.

“Wash me,” I ordered, pulling her to her feet.

She led me to the bathroom, her hands trembling as she cleaned me off. But I wasn’t done yet. Back in the kitchen, I had her lift one leg onto the pantry bench, taking her from behind. The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed through the house, her cries of pleasure music to my ears.

By the time we were done, the sun was beginning to rise. She collapsed onto the bed, her body spent.

“I can’t move,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

I kissed her goodbye, slipping out as quietly as I’d come. The next morning, I got a text.

“I think I’m starting to feel sick. Guess I’ll have to call in tomorrow.”

I smiled. This was just the beginning.