Was It black…Was it White?
How did it begin? Did I make the first flirtatious move? Did you drop a seductive tease on my wall?
Beginnings are meaningless, when two Dominant women create a caldron of ingredients that they only understand. A brew inspiring passion.
I threw stones in tranquil lakes and streams. As each stone rolled across the water. The ripples grew.
Who will let the tide flow stronger? Who will pick up the stone? Who will firmly press their hand against a back and lead?
You wrote a story….adding me to your writings. I was taken by such an experience. You embraced me, and my Dominant persona through powerful prose.
We both loved long laced gloves, suspenders, garters, and retro-Cuban heeled back seamed stockings. You teased about making sure my seams were straight.
So we danced. We parried. A chess match between two Masters. Who will choose white? Who will choose black?
A kiss stirred deep, and we knew! Rolling in erotic bliss, each took control. Each took pleasure in gaining the hill top, and grinding into pleasure. Then a strong advance, a firm grip on the small of a back, and a twist of control.
Screams…endless waves of twisting pleasure… two Dommes taking and giving… barreling in endless lust.
We danced. We shared. We kissed. We face fucked. We became us. We smiled and knew.
I stirred in a dream. Was this tango real? Was each step a lead, by each, to an endless brew of bubbling volcanic explosions. A never ending dance where each movement creates a new step, that neither understands, yet both must take?
I awoke to another post on my wall, and we danced and danced and danced.
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