Femdom Pegging

Here I am now single in my mid-30s. In a life that could actually be described as quite successful with respect to career, education and experiences. Nevertheless, I'm single and the company I can have bores me out, because the same games are always played, the outcome of which is usually unsatisfactory for me. I guess I'm one of those people who took a wrong turn somewhere along the path of life without knowing when and where exactly this actually happened.

Lately I've been discovering hotel bars, not least in the hope of a classic conquest, but also because they are usually pleasantly stylish and often not so crowded. In addition, there are few groups there and you don't feel like a loner if you sit there alone to enjoy the atmosphere while having a few too many drinks.

Apparently I'm not the only one who feels this way, because every thursday evening the same woman sits at the end of the long counter and drinks martinis like in a James Bond movie. You could probably best describe her as a classic beauty, dark straight hair, shoulder length, narrow face, fair skin, little make-up necessary. She always wears a dark business outfit, white blouse, no pushup and an elegant skirt that doesn't emphasize the hips.

She always just sits there and drinks, no cell phone, no book, no small talk with the staff and no other guests ever come towards her. I'm sure she's used to being looked at and is probably aware that I've been admiring her from afar for weeks. In my thoughts she becomes more and more aloof and my initial plans to talk to her seemed increasingly impossible to me, until one Thursday she suddenly seemed to notice my presence.

I can't even say what changed, or whether perhaps nothing changed at all. In any case, she looked at me for the first time from her seat when the bartender called me over to the counter to pay my bill. It was like she was looking right through me, just a look without any gestures. I can't even say for how long this lasted. All I know is that for this period I had no interaction with the bartender. I just stood there looking back. It wasn't the first testing look a woman had given me, but I've never felt so naked watching her seeing right through every layer I impemented in myself to hide the real me. Staring at the real me, seeing things that even I wouldn't know about myself.

And then suddenly, without any judgment or gesture, she averted her gaze and I just stood there, not knowing what I should make out of this situation.

Thank god the bartender didn't show any signs of noticing that, after I forced myself back into reality.

I decided to quickly forget this embarrassing moment and left the bar without another glance from her.

What now followed was a series of more of these looks, each getting more intense. When the worst happened, I was on the way to the restrooms, that look again. The question as to whether I should return the look arose not at all, I was captivated in her eyes. My motoric skills went completely lost when I tried to walk casually and relaxed. Is the current step is the same length as the last one, do I move my arms far enough, or maybe too far? Internally I felt like I was staggering like a drunk when she finally looked away and released me again.

This went on for a few weeks until she suddenly started to no longer notice my presence.

So far these looks had only unsettled me and I tried to mentally prepare myself better every thursday, to deliver a less pathetic performance. At this point I had long since given up all hope of ending up with this woman, but she continued to fascinate me.

However, I didn't expect how much I wanted to be noticed by her by now.

Every thursday without one of her eyes on me was torture and I wondered what I could have done wrong, apart from my rather obvious weakness towards her. Looking back, I have to say that at this point I was no longer able to clearly assess the situation and everything from then on was already set in stone. Nor did I reflect on the sexual desire that her ignorance triggered inside of me. Or that perhaps these looks were conscious of her from the start and served a specific goal. At least that's what I like to think today, because we've never had a real conversation and I probably wouldn't be able to have one to this day.

I guess I just want to convince myself that I had any meaning to her at all.

After every evening of torturous ignorance, I literally masturbated myself into sleep and my orgasms were more intense than before. Without pornography or fantasy of a sexual act in mind, just based on the desire for her attention. But masturbating couldn't satisfy my desire, something else inside me longed for her to touch me.

Here again no reflection, or as it is generally the case in my life, simply driven by my circumstances without even having a goal
wanting to exercise control over my environment or my surroundings.

I guess that's just my nature.

This game, I assume, continued like that until that evening, which changed everyting. Back in the hotel bar and brutally ignored again, I wanted to make my way home. Again with an erection that tormented me subconsciously, but consciously I didn't even notice it. That's when I met her smoking in front of the hotel bar and she captivated me again, this time without any interruption. I just stood there like a deer in headlights. However, this time, after a while, her otherwise neutral look took on a somewhat more aggressive look. The longer this situation lasted, the more I was able to free myself from these shackles and I became more and more aware of the strangeness of this situation.

I didn't know what to do, it was getting harder and harder for me to hold her gaze, I lost my voice and I was starting to sweat.

As I couldn't stand it any longer, I shamefully turned my head to the side, because I still didn't want to turn away from her, in a defensive manner. At that moment I imagined to have recognized a hint of emotion in her facial expressions, in the form of the corner of her mouth pulled up just slightly. She then turned around and left, only to turn back around after a few steps, knowing full well that I was still standing in the same place watching her go and gestured for me to follow.

What now followed was the strangest walk of my life.

I followed her of course, but somehow I didn't dare to catch up with her. 1000 thoughts race through my head every second, but I couldn't reproduce any of them now. I guess subconsciously I decided not to catch up, because I lacked the courage to take control of this situation, or to take responsibility for what was going happen.

Just like I have always done in my life.

This walk ended in the bedroom of a coolly and functionally furnished modern apartment.

Looking back, what amazes me the most is her competence, how did she know exactly what to do.

If she had come at me directly and aggressively, I would definitely have had a panic attack, but instead she came behind me and nibbled on my neck, giving me goosebumps. This feeling of vulnerability, presenting my back to a stranger like that, intensified when she opened my pants and pulled them down, and then nestle her hips against my ass. Normally, at a moment like this, I would be eagerly waiting to finally get her hands on my cock and again without me even being aware of it, I was already about to burst.

This probably went on for a while and the panic gave way to my excitement, while my cock continued to be completely ignored, which only made me hornier and hornier.

I don't think I've ever felt such intense excitement.

She skillfully maintained the initiative by continually playing, nibbling, stroking and pinching me. So I always just reacted, there was no reason to take the initiative. She maintained the feeling of vulnerability by starting to work my ass. Starting with gentle stroking and kneading of my ass cheeks, she worked her way more and more clearly and directly. The stroking of her fingers sent shivers down my spine. I don't normally have any erogenous zones back there, but allowing a stranger behind me access to that spot like that, only turned me on even more. Nevertheless, I became more and more restless. My painful erection needed relief and the urge to thrust something could no longer be suppressed.

This must have been the moment she was waiting for, she grabbed my cock and pulled it forcefully back towards my body by the foreskin. I swear to God I would have had one of the most intense orgasms of my life in that moment, after that weeks of agonizing desire before, if she hadn't carefully but firmly pushed her middle finger deep into my ass at that same moment. What followed was a battle of sensations between my cock that wanted to explode and my ass that didn't want to lose its virginity. I couldn't breathe and my mind was just blown away.

The panic that slowly arose in me was tamed with a reassuring "shhhhhhhh" in my ear and the slow, hard and painful jerking of my cock kept me at bay. My breath came slowly back and my mind cleared up. However, not to a point that I realized the absurdity of the situation, or that I became an active player in this game. I continued just to be the playing field. And so her finger began to slowly fuck me, while she jerked me off painfully slowly, much much too slowly.

This must have gone on for a while and little by little the horniness subsided and my mind was able to free itself. Inside me the wish to get out of ths ridicolous situation arose. So I began to free myself, which she reluctantly allowed and I turned to her. She just stood there looking at me like she was in the bar.

The facts that I just had a finger deep in my ass and that my erection was no longer so painful helped me to resist her ban,
which raised the question of how this situation should proceed.

Looking back, I have to laugh that the idea of ​​taking the initiative or simply to leave never crossed my mind.

Instead, I wanted to avoid a confrontation. I wanted to find a common ground with her, on how we can make this pleasant for both of us. However, this question was taken away from me when she came to me and gently but firmly pushed me back towards the bed and then pushed me further and further. Which ended with me lying under her on the bed, with my legs spread like a slut. I just couldn't muster the strength to resist her.

However, I was worried about spreading my legs for someone, who had stuck her finger deep in my ass just a moment before.

What followed was probably the most miserable and shortest wrestling match in human history.

My attempt to gently get her off me and then under me was met with a powerful grip on my cock and a passionate kiss. Her way of kissing wasn't aggressive, but demanding. I found it increasingly difficult to reciprocate, or to keep up with her until I eventually stopped my wrestling match. I allowed her to cross my arms over my head, hold them there with one hand and gently kiss the side of my face, that I had turned away under her pressure, in a peace offering manner. Her hand slowly moved from my cock down to my ass but this time she was content with just massaging my asshole, which I supposed was to help me to get used to my role in this interaction. The hand that was holding my arms moved to my cheek and her thumb stroked my lips, while her lips were close to my ear and again that "shhhhhhh" came as she slowly pushed her finger back into my ass again. My breath was caught again, but she turned my head towards her and kissed me. This time not a passionate kiss, more of a sincere, almost loving kiss. I've had a lot of kisses with too much tongue, with too little tongue, forced kisses because that's just how you do it, honest kisses, embarrassing kisses, but never kisses with such joy, curiosity and enthusiasm, which helped me tolerate this foreign thing in my ass. The feeling of surrender and vulnerability again completely blew my mind away.

This continued until she pulled away from me.

I wanted to lift my upper body, but she pushed me back onto the bed and instructed me to stay there with just a finger gesture. She was now only wearing her underwear and as she left the room. I realized that I had hardly explored her body so far. I don't know how long I lay there and tried to make sense of what had happened so far, but again the idea of ​​leaving didn't occur to me. The excitement I felt outweighed the shame at my rather pitiful performance so far. My heart was pounding and adrenaline was coursing through my veins and I was wondering the last time I felt so alive.

I turned to the door when I heard her comming back and when she entered the room the blood froze in my veins. She stopped a few steps behind the door and turned to me. Now this almost magical, beautiful, quiet woman was equipped with a huge strap-on. Huge is perhaps the wrong word, as any size is far too big for me, when it comes to strap-ons, but that's how she stood there. Again she cleverly kept her distance, because if she had come directly at me with the thing, I would definitely have fled out her bedroom window. But she just stood there. Probably knowing full well that I would try to find a compromise again. Knowing full well that I would still try to be close to her. So she just waited, this time with a rare emotion visible on her face an expression of warmth, confidence, certainty and also a bit of malice. Maybe it was pure malice at that moment and I just didn't want to recognize it as that.

This stalemate situation became increasingly unbearable for me, a thousand thoughts crossed my mind and the panic was only suppressed by her distance from me. One of those thousand thoughts took control over me and I wanted to open my mouth to say something. Looking back, I can't say which one it was, but that doesn't matter because my voice immediately gave out. Nevertheless, that put an even bigger smile on her face, because she took it as an invitation to come closer. She got up at the opposite end of her big bed and moved towards me on all fours, almost like a predator, which would have been great without that giant strap on dangling between her legs. The dominant part of my masculinity cried at how this woman could crawl towards me so confident of victory, in order to fuck me with this thing. The part that longed for excitement and feeling alive could hardly wait for her to arrive and my normal self just went blank. And so I guess I just looked like a deer in headlights again.

What happened next is another one of those events in this interaction that I will never forget.

She slowly crawled over me, starting from my legs, but this time I closed them at the last moment and just lay under her with big eyes and squinted thighs. Undeterred, she continues to crawl up to me and I felt the dildo brush over me and come to rest under my balls between my legs. My cock was completely ignored again and she played with her tongue on my nipples, which are super sensitive but also feel super uncomfortable, when other people touch them. With my obvious discomfort, she just found another tool to control my behavior, which she playfully took to the extreme. I wanted to push her away, but somehow that didn't seem right to me, so I was only able to let out a frustrated, slightly tortured sigh.

She had apparently already given up on the idea of ​​fucking me in missionary and was now lying on my side, with her strap-on over my cock and stomach. What now followed were tender kisses, her hand stroked my cock and body, refusing any contact with my glans, while I was slowly humped from the side. She skillfully and slowly built up my lust, which had vanished due to the shock, until it became unbearable and again, refusing to give me any salvation.

People have 3 instincts in their brain for stressful situations, developed long ago. Run, fight, or play dead. The thought of taking control over this situation no longer occurred to me, so the fight was not even an option. And so she built up the pressure, my painful erection yearning for a touch, the torture of my nipples, the angry strap-on humping me more and more intensely. Like always, everything increased at a slow pace, that simply overcame my instincts to flee, like a predator slowly creeping up. This left my prehistoric brain only to just play dead. She knew it, my subconscious slowly realized it and so for her it was just a matter of time, waiting until I accepted that reality of our interaction at that point.

The thought of turning on my side, of being able to press my painful erect cock blissfully into the cold mattress. The thought of escaping from her slow but demanding kisses, that I could not withstand any longer. And the need to escape that overstimulation of my nipples made offereing my back to her seem like a small price for finding salvation.

Of course she quickly caught up with me and so I ended up as little spoon. The reward I recieved for my compliance came in form of a gentle but cathartic jerking of my cock. Her strap-on, now in his new home between my legs slowly fucked me dry. That slow jerking of my cock, the feeling of being at mercy of the lurking danger between my legs gave rise to a new, unknown feeling in me a type of horniness, but not the normal type where you want to dick someone down, where you want to have your cock worked on. This type of horniness came from the depths of my soul. It was a desire to be deeply touched, but in some abstract way. And so, without ever going to openly admit it, I began to accommodate and cooperate to her dry fuck. I wanted to follow this unknown feeling to its core, to explore it and the closer I played along to the woman behind me, the closer I came to my goal.

Again, I was denied any salvation from her. She didn't let me get any closer to this new feeling, changed the pace of her dry fuck, avoided me and my moans, which I wasn't even aware of then, till I sighed in frustration.

That's another aspect of this meeting that I can't get out of my head. She first made me her plaything and then even made me beg for it.

The frustration disappeared as all the air suddenly left my lungs, as she suddenly applied her strap-on and slowly pushed the thing into me, without giving me any time to reconsider. All thoughts were blown away and I heard that "shhhhhh" behind me again. At the same time her arms wrapped around me tightly, in a protective manner. She led my now upright oriented and shocked head back into the pillow with her cheek, as she continued humming that "shhhhh" into my ear. I was instinctively concentrating on getting my breathing under control and again no flight or fighting instincts arose in me. A feeling arose in my head that I could not describe by words. Perhaps the best way to describe it is to be completely caught up in the most exciting thriller, action movie, porn movie and horror film simultaneously, or perhaps mabe like the first skydive. This feeling slowly receded, but only enough to allow other thoughts to emerge slightly over the border into my consciousness. This feeling came from my ass, which had subconsciously made its dissatisfaction with this foreign thing known from the very beginning, and which now slowly began to move in and out. From this point on, I no longer noticed the person behind me. I only had this thriller in my head, the unpleasant foreign dildo in my ass and my mind was just looking for a way to reconcile both of these feelings. Then this unknown feeling of horniness before came to my mind, this feeling of vulnerability, of wanting to be touched, so I concentrated on that. After some difficulties, I was able to easily surrender to this feeling again and I groaned with every movement of her. This woman skillfully guided me deeper into this feeling by punishing too quiet moans and too little devotion with harder thrusts. I lay there and was fucked like a dog in heat getting deeper and deeper caught up in this feeling.

I can't even say how long this situation lasted, I also have no idea how long a woman has to fuck a man with a strap on until she is satisfied.

After some time, the strap-on no longer felt extremely uncomfortable, but rather neutral and the chaos in my head of thrills and the desire to be touched became mixed with classic lust and my stiff cock bounced with every thrust from her. I realized that it was time to end whatever this situation was and I knew wouldn't get that satisfaction from her, so I took it in my own hands. However, she didn't make it easy for me, by fucking me harder and harder, making it difficult for me to direct the chaos in my head towards the normal lust in my cock. And so these feelings in my head, the thriller, the feeling of being at her mercy, the feeling of being touched so deeply and my horniness increased until I completely lost my mind again.

I wasn't even consciously aware of my orgasm, my mind was simply blown away and only came back in the last throes of what was the most powerful orgasm of my life. When the twitching of my body subsided, I realized that she had stopped fucking me, but she was still balls deep inside of me.

Suddenly post nut clarity hit me like a tidal wave and I was able to think clearly for the first time in weeks and I had only thought, what the hell am I doing here!!!!

Immediately afterwards my flight instinct kicked in and I wanted to free myself from her and that thing in my ass.

The fact that she only reluctantly allowed this and I had to overcome her to free myself was probably the crowning conclusion of this interaction for her. I still find it difficult to accept this to this day.

So I lay there in the most intense shame of my life. Knowing her eyes were on me, I instinctively reached for a blanket and tried to hide myself. I was paralyzed with shame and just continued to lie there.

She thought she deserved a cigarette, which I noticed from the sound of the lighter.

I can't report here anything other than being ashamed, I didn't want to leave the protection of my blanket, so I waited. I didn't want to be seen by her.

This probably went on for a while.

What does she think, is she satisfied, amused, both?

These thoughts came to an abrupt end when she left the bedroom, dragging my blanket behind her, without looking back.

Now alone in this room, my flight instinct seemed to have no problem in gaining the upper hand. I jumped into my clothes and went for the door.

I came to a stop in front of the door she had left open, in fear of running into her in the apartment. So I crept into the apartment hallway and noticed that she had already opened the apartment door, apparently as a signal for me to leave.

Looking back, I wonder if that was grace on her part or just the final kick of my manhood from her.

A few moments later I was standing on the street in front of her house and started walking aimlessly for hours. Calling a taxi didn't even occur to me because my brain was busy with trying to evaluate something for which it is not designed to comprehend, because if it could I would not have ended in this situation.

A few weeks have passed since that day, sleepless nights, I'm massively behind at work and every thursday I stand in front of this bar, on the other side of the street and I wonder what it was that happened.