The Submissive Side of Lust – Part 7

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“Stop struggling, you can’t get away.” It’s an understatement. I weigh less than half of what you weigh. You’re straddling my chest with my arms crossed over my head and my legs are fastened to the bedposts. For some reason for the first time I feel really exposed. It isn’t the fact I was wearing next to nothing when I started this game or the little show in the kitchen. It wasn’t bending over and shaking my bottom with my womanhood exposed or even having my legs tied to the bed like this and it isn’t being thrown over your shoulder when you carried me into the bedroom with your hand on my squeezing bottom. It’s laying here with you straddling my chest. It’s having my arms up like almanbahis şikayet this and how my chest and breasts are pulled taut. My breasts are small to begin with but being stretched out like this makes me look even smaller. For the first time I start to agree with my inner schoolgirl. I have a desire to hide behind her, an overwhelming need to cover up. My inner schoolgirl quietly wraps a quilt around me and is hugging me tightly. “Are you okay?” I make a halfhearted attempt to squirm underneath you but it accomplishes nothing. “What’s wrong?” you ask as the energy seems to get sucked from the room. Again, I try to pull my arms down. It’s with a sense of urgency and anger. almanbahis canlı casino I try rolling side to side to throw you off, struggling against your weight and your hands on my wrists, trying to thrash my legs but the shackles don’t surrender. Tears starting to fill in my eyes and overflow onto my cheeks. Without hesitation you move off my chest and unfasten my legs. Like a rubber band pulled tight and then release I turn onto my side and coil up pulling the quilt and sheets up in front my breasts. Lying down in front of me you slide up tight and put your arm under my head and over my side. Pressing my head against your chest and feeling the tenderness of your hand on almanbahis casino my back. “Are you okay, did I hurt you, I’m so sorry.” The thoughts in my head are completely irrational. I know they are. It’s not anything you’ve done or said. There are no marks on me exposing a wound. There is just emotion. “Please talk to me, what did I do?” With tears in my eyes all I can do is press my head against your chest. “…hold me” is all I can mutter as tears start to leave their wet trail down my cheeks. “Oh, Michelle, I’m so sorry, please talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.” I say nothing; just press myself against you keeping my arms pulled tight up against my chest, almost as if it’s a wedge between us. ************* After what seemed like hours of complete silence and no movement I shift and look up into your eyes. “I love you.” I say. “Michelle what happened?” “Make love to me.” “Michelle, what’s wrong? You need to talk to me.

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