Whisper to me what you desire

I wasn't looking for someone random. I wanted a woman who knew what she wanted — not just affection, but also tension, guidance, a game where every word counts. So I signed up for the dating site bdsmclub.com.

Jessica wrote first.

“I'm not here for fun. But if you can listen and lead... maybe I'll let you discover me.”

I knew right away that this wasn't going to be a normal relationship. We started with conversations — long, unhurried ones. About boundaries, about pleasure, about touch. Every sentence she wrote had a greater effect on me than other people's photos. We set rules and listened to each other.

When we finally met for the first time, we already knew more about each other than many people do after months of being in a relationship.

She was wearing a red bodysuit that hugged her body like a second skin. She had a thin black rib-bon around her neck. Her gaze was confident, but her lips were slightly parted — as if to say: Sur-prise me, but read me well.

-“Don't start with domination. Start with curiosity,” - she said, looking me straight in the eye.

-"I want you to get to know me like a map that can't be memorized the first time around."

I started with her neck. My breath close to her skin, without touching her. Her body trembled slightly.

I ran my finger along her collarbone, slowly, deliberately.

I kissed her as I had promised — consciously. I ran my tongue along her jawline, then down to her intricately formed cleavage.

Jessica sighed and grabbed my hand, guiding it between her thighs.

She was wet, hot — and without panties.

-“I like it when you touch me slowly. But I also want you to tell me what you want to do.”

I leaned toward her ear.

“I want you to open your legs wider so I can taste you before you get even naughtier.”

She did it without a word. Her scent was intense, her taste addictive. I licked her deeply, rhythmi-cally, until she began to shake her hips and moan softly, as if she didn't want the neighbors to hear what we were doing.

When she was trembling, she pulled me close and said,

-“Now I set the pace.”

She sat on me, slowly guiding me inside her. She was tight, pulsating. Her movements were confi-dent — not crazy, but sensual. She moved her hips like a dancer, aware of every millimeter.

-“Look at me, all the time. I want to see how I turn you on.”

I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her breasts moved rhythmically, her nipples hard, her body sweaty, on fire. Jessica wasn't a woman you took — she was a woman who let you into her world on the condition that you understood the rules.

When we finished — together, loudly, without shame — she collapsed onto my shoulder. We were breathing heavily but calmly.

-“Now you only know a fragment. Next time it will be deeper. Harder. If you deserve it.”

I smiled. I knew this woman wasn't an adventure. She was a process. And with each passing night, I would discover more of her — layer by layer, from a whisper to a scream.