Confessions of A's Rope Bunny

Thinking of how his chinky eyes seems to be always smiling, makes me feel warm.

Our skin color contrast is a sight for me to behold.

I am getting turned on just by the mere thoughts of how his built & height towers over me.
How small & fragile I look beside him.
Or by how he can easily dominate and toss me over,
Pin me and tie me in his ropes helpless.

But what’s truly nostalgic
Is remembering how the palms of his hands feel
as he slowly hold and caress my neck
then grasps my throat arching the other fingers leaving just three placed perfectly feeling my carotid arteries,
gradual pressure placed until compression of airways are achieved.

He counts…
verbally one time,
and for sure in his mind on next occasions,
He must be looking at the expression on my face as it sours,
As I gasp for air,
as I signal for him not to stop.

He continuously asks if the pressure is still alright for me,
He checks if I am still feeling good.
He must know,
as I moan in pleasure.

Eyesight blurring
Background noise slowly diminishing to ambient then void
I tried to inhale from my mouth
a high pitch in low volume is how it sounded
as I tried sipping for air
what seemed to be my mind’s final stance in fighting for my survival.

Yet there is a gap
A misalignment
from what my mind says to how I react
I am clearly succumbing to this addiction.
I didn’t struggle,
Instead,
my body asked for more,
but then…
He releases the pressure
just in time to avoid asphyxiation.

And I will always want more
Of him
Of his warm hands on my skin
Of him holding me tight,
Of his control over my existence,

I needed more of this,
Longer time,
more compression,
Probably like that event
When he laid down and I ride him on top,
His hands stretched grasping my neck
I tilt my head upward making way for more air
While I grind my hips
gently rocking him back and forth,
Up and down,
in semi circular motions,
And a halt just feeling the fullness of his penis inside of me
I held his wrists and forearms firmly,
Not pulling it away from my neck,
Rather adding a gentle push towards my throat,
faking a resistance,
The lesser air I inhale the more I am aroused for him.

Softening my gaze,
I put my effort into conserving the air in my lungs and breathing strategically to prolong this beautiful act of energy exchange,
A sexual pleasure in pain.

The sight from his point must be of a lovely control,
Of power over my naked fragile body utterly exposed for him to violate…
Lengthening at the crown of my head shows more the height of my neck that fits perfectly in his big warm hands
Squared shoulders
protruding collar bones
and a rather flat chest with a tattoo in the middle going down my full abdominal area
I manage to cum at him at this wonderful madness of heightened pressure in my jugular veins.
But with care he again loosens his grip just in time,
so as to avoid further harm.

Exhausted,
I dropped on top of his broad firm chest,
I love how his naked body feels this close to mine,
Warm,
Warm,
Safe.

Sinking my head beside his ears,
I thanked him in a whispering voice,
I inhaled his aroma,
It is crisp and clean,
Like almost nothing
Yet intoxicating.

Oh how irresistibly sexy can he get,
For making me feel this seen and heard,
Submissive yet served,
Vulnerable yet safe.

/cl 18062023