Guest blog: I want to claim his cock

Image by the amazing Stuart F Taylor

Today I’m welcoming back the fabulous guest blogger ‘A’, who has written a couple of gorgeous posts before for this blog, like this one on feeling ‘little’ and cute. Today she’s here to talk about ownership, and how it isn’t just dominants who like that feeling of saying that someone is ‘mine.’ An exploration, as she explained in her original pitch, of having a really intense hunger for him – and only him. Wanting to claim his cock.

I want to claim his cock

“I want to claim your cock.”

I could never, ever say those words to him in person. I’m shy, timid, a little bit little and most importantly, his submissive.

Our relationship is a mixture of D/s, DD/lg, Predator/prey but one thing that runs throughout is playfulness. It’s so easy between us and things flow just right. It’s how he can catch me off guard so quickly and easily. I’ll be teasing him, pretending I’m big and tough but then he’ll give me “that look” or say a little something and I turn to mush. I’m pliable, his.

His desire for me fuels me. His love for me fuels me. He’s good for my brain. I get out of my head and into my body, but when I do that I want to claim his cock.

When a submissive looks at their dominant and growls ‘mine’, it means something important. It means that I’m going to exhaust myself on his cock, and that I’m going to need him to bring me back once I’m done.

It usually starts from innocent moments. The ones where you’re talking, laughing and having fun and in that moment you realise you love them. They haven’t done anything particularly special, it’s just joyous and you love them. And then his fingers are buried in your cunt, and you’re a panting, moaning mess. Those sweet, innocent moments have a habit of turning into something much more carnal. It’s where I need much, much more than just his fingers. I need his cock, I need him.

I straddled him on the sofa, but found myself getting frustrated because I didn’t have the freedom to fuck him how I needed. I told him to go upstairs and I straddled him again – this time on the bed. I sank down onto his cock and fucked him until I released all of my built up tension over him.

But I wasn’t done.

I needed to satiate my hunger for him, and my hunger for him runs deep. I told him to sit up on the edge of the bed. I needed to claim his cock. His cock was mine. He was mine. I grabbed the vibrator and held it against my clit, and I took his cock in my mouth. I was ravenous. I was insatiable. My clit throbbed, my cunt pulsed and I came over and over as I licked and sucked and choked on his cock.

But still I wasn’t done.

I tried again. One more time. One more orgasm. Just. One. More. I was a mess of sweat and saliva, and I had visions of passing out on his cock. Fuck. I sucked him harder, took more of him into my throat, held the vibrator tighter against my clit and as I did, I moaned his name and squirted with a force that left me shaking.

I love claiming him as mine. I am his, and he is mine. He owns me in a way that I simply can’t with him – I’m not wired that way.

I pushed him back onto the bed, and he chuckled and asked if I was going to take control. I couldn’t. I can’t. At least not sexually. I told him to roll over, and I stroked his back and played with his hair and he turned to mush.

It’s my “power” over him. I love claiming him.

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