First Taste of Submission

"How old are you?" I asked.
"Forty one," BadBoy said with a shrug.
"Really?" Instantly I felt guilty at the shock in my tone. He had looked older.

He swept in and kissed me for the first time. This was no exploratory first kiss, but a hard insistent mouth to mouth sexual congress, his tongue deep down my throat, me struggling to breathe, my arms flailing.

But he continued, pushing me hard against the kitchen worktop, so hard I knew I would be getting bruises the next day.

He kissed me until my knees started shaking and I had to cling onto him to stay up. He kissed me until I hyperventilated, the room turning dark and liquid around me.

He kissed me until I came.

And then he tugged on my hair, hard, so that my knees caved in and I buckled to the floor, cowering at his feet. He pulled me up by the hair, holding me tight with his free arm. I was a quivering, shaking mess.

He tugged some more and looked straight into me with his ice blue eyes.
"Hello gorgeous," he said.