The woman on her knees; it’s almost a staple image of the D/s scene; particularly in the CMNF sub-genre.
But, as much as it can play towards submissive tropes, it is not a depiction of weakness; in fact it is often quite the opposite.
To be greeted in this fashion, is to be greeted by a woman who knows what she wants. Yes, she is attentive to my needs and desires, but her nakedness and readiness imply a hunger and need of her own. The woman kneeling is in control of her wants; her nakedness is a statement of intent. She is ready, she is willing. Yes, she wants me to take pleasure in being with her, but it is very much a statement of the urgent need of her pleasure.
She may employ the language of meekness. She ask things in submissive terms like “Would Sir like His cock sucked?” In reality she is saying “I want your cock in my mouth. I want suck it and then I want you to fuck me, to take me and give me the climax I need”.
My state of almost full dress is as much a declaration of her power over me than any dominance of mine. Her need is such that she doesn’t need me to be naked, she just needs unfettered access to that part of me which will feed fer desire and sate her need.
She knows, as she strokes and teases my length, observing the way my cock twitches the sounds I make, that she has ignited my passion. As she wraps her lips around me and takes me into her mouth, drawing me deep into the back of her throat, she knows that in those moments, she is the one that is in control; she know that my responses are entirely of her making.
Like the siren of legend, she has enticed me and drawn me to embrace, knowing that much of my own pleasure derives from that which I give her.
Her fingers tease me, her mouth delights and claims me.
There is, however, a price to be paid. With every stroke of her lips, with every lick of her tongue, with every touch of her fingers, she calls forth the animal inside me; the animal that will soon be inside her.
Positions change. She may still be on her knees, or she may now be beneath me; either way I am inside her. We have reached the endgame. The room fills with the sounds of our bodies; skin collides and slaps against skin, breathing becomes rapid and laboured, moans and gasps escape as the sensual overload builds to consume us.
A familiar tightening of her cunt and a long, gasping moan announce her climax. A final surging thrust culminating in a warm explosion inside her confirms mine. We collapse, spent; a sweaty, euphoric mess of tangled limbs and satisfied dishevelment.
“How was your day?” she asks.