What About My Collar, Blaine?

I didn't know this kind of attraction even existed. Most people only have one thing that attracts me – if that. And once my curiosity is sated, my interest wanes.

But with you, that is not so. I felt connected to you on so many levels, so quickly.

I answered your ad. It was witty, well-written, and concise. You weren't one of those guys who vomited up a word salad in his ad. That was nice. And, of course, my favorite parts were your references to entropy and the Latin phrase you used to close out your ad.

But I answered YOUR ad. The ball was in your court from the beginning. You had the power to respond or not. I am glad you did. Our first few chat sessions were banal, yet the highlight of my day. Your brain attracted me straightaway.

I kept myself separate from others – a participant observer in life. I have held my emotions in check for so long, I didn't think I could be delighted with someone. But I was pleasantly surprised that you delighted me. Even your neurotic typo-fixing tendencies delighted me.

When I told you I'm black and you didn't care, I was relieved. The guys I grew up with bailed if I ever hinted at being anything more than study buddies. Or the girl they got relationship advice from. But you didn't bail. You thought it was funny that I thought it would matter to you.

I am still trying to figure out how text messages about pants-stealing robots led to our first voice-to-voice connection. Your voice is so hot! From the first sentence, you had me hooked. We fell into conversation easily. It's like we had known each other for years.

And when you told me you were a Dominant during our first phone conversation, I thought I was going to cum in my pants right then. For you to tell me that was so hot, I almost passed out. I hope my eagerness to learn more about that side of you didn't come through too much those first couple of phone calls. I wanted to play it cool for a little while longer.

Somehow I think you already knew. Even over the phone you stripped away all of my defenses. You so easily reached inside my outer shell and revealed the vulnerable femininity hidden inside. And you didn't try to capitalize on my vulnerability.

I was scared to death to meet you in person. What if this was really just another internet fantasy, doomed to fizzle with the reality of face-to-face contact? But it didn't fizzle. The attraction only grew stronger.

When we first met, I was sure I was no man's slut, down to fuck the first night and whenever he wants. I was wrong. I would have fucked you in the mall parking lot that night; damn my compact car!

Your strong, capable artist's hands were all over me. I was grinding on your cock while you massaged my ass through my jeans. My nipples pebbled under my sweater when you grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back. You exposed my neck and then bit down. Hard. You had my pussy twitching and you hadn't even touched my clit. I wanted to be a slut for you the very first night.

Your sexy voice on the other end of the line kept me awake plenty of nights. You made a trip to the home improvement store sound so sexy. You painted pictures with your words of the contrast between my brown skin and the white rope you preferred. Me, facedown on the bed, bound spread-eagle. I pictured you using your big white hand to spank my round ass. I could feel the juices dripping down my thigh as you talked to me. When you commanded me to cum, I did. I felt the aftershocks from that orgasm into the next afternoon. It's a wonder I didn't crash my car.

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You made me realize I how much I want to be an implement of your pleasure. The texts you sent about using my mouth...you don't know how much I wanted to be near so you could use me.

I have been thinking about your hand gripping the back of my head. I am on my knees. Your cock is in my mouth. You use my mouth for your pleasure, holding me where you please with your fisted hand. You guide your cock down my throat while I take you all in. I can feel your balls on my bottom lip as you press my head all the way in...you fuck my mouth hard, then harder. Only able to take what you give, I pulse my throat to increase your pleasure. I anticipate the moment you will cum. I can't wait for you to cum - down my throat, on my face, on my tits - wherever you please.

But it is your other hand that does me in. Your first hand still fisted in my hair, you move your other hand to my chin, wet with saliva and cum. You raise my face and look into my eyes. You trace my face with your other hand. Your eyes follow your hand, from forehead to chin. Your eyes, wistfully triumphant, return to mine. "We're not done," you say.

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I still want that collar you promised me.