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BDSM

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  • 9.7

Jao 7 days’ dates. I don’t even know why I even went along with the idea, but I did. I went to all 7 dates which turned into all sorts of emotions. Our pasts, sorrows, romance, sexual awakening, and BDSM awakening but mostly darkness which I didn’t want to invite and I don’t know how I’m going to get out of it because I’m suffocating under it. Or am I? “I want to invite you to my hotel room,” he says. I nearly chuckle but I lift my upper lip by the corner to show him that I’m p*ss*d and not interested. I push him away but f*ck his strong. He doesn’t bulge with my hands glued on his abs, so strong, hard and I can feel each of them in my hands. “I’m not interested,” I’m p*ss*d but more like embarrassed. Pablo is built like he has been training for 100 years. Abs made of steel. “Why? Am I not your type?” I scrunch my whole face. I mean what kind of question is that? “I’m into ladies and not men, especially mafias.” I meet his gaze to show him that I mean it and I’m not scared of him. “Move - and now.” “What will you do? Punish me? Make me your slave and be my master?” Huh? What the f*ck is this man talking about? “What?” “Joking. Please, have a date with me.” Please? “I’m not GAY.” “YOU ARE.” “I’M NOT.” “YES YOU ARE.” “F*ck I’m not,” I grit my teeth and I’m ready to punch his face right now and have his teeth flying out. He breathes out so slowly to my nose and lips and makes me smell his fresh breath that I nearly roll my eyes to the back. Sh*t, what is he doing to me? “Just have a date with me, 7 dates then you’ll decide if you want to continue this or not. I will text you,” he says in a soft, manly, deep, and rumble tone. I find myself saying, “But you don’t have my di-.” I gulp the words and say, “No.” But he’s already out of the door. What am I?

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