Meeting him on my knees
I’m on my knees on the bedroom floor, exactly where he told me to be. Door unlocked. Lights low. Waiting. We’ve talked for weeks, shared every fantasy, every tension—yet somehow, tonight feels unreal. Our first time seeing each other in person, and I’m already submitting to a man I’ve never touched.
My heart won’t slow down. I listen to every tiny sound in the house, wondering which one will be him. Part of me wants to hide my face, but the bigger part of me wants to prove I can obey, even trembling like this.
Then the door opens.
He steps inside with that calm, controlled confidence I’ve only ever heard through a phone speaker. Seeing him in person steals the breath from my chest—he’s even more handsome, more commanding than I imagined. My cheeks burn, my pulse jumps, and I avert my gaze without thinking.
He stops in front of me, close enough that I can feel the weight of his presence.
“Look at me,” he says.
I do—slowly, shyly—and his expression tells me he already knows what I’m feeling.
“Good girl.”
Two simple words, but they slide right through every nervous thought in my head, replacing them with something low and warm. My body reacts before I can think, my posture straightening, my breath catching, the need to please him sinking deeper
I’m on my knees on the bedroom floor, exactly where he told me to be. Door unlocked. Lights low. Waiting. We’ve talked for weeks, shared every fantasy, every tension—yet somehow, tonight feels unreal. Our first time seeing each other in person, and I’m already submitting to a man I’ve never touched.
My heart won’t slow down. I listen to every tiny sound in the house, wondering which one will be him. Part of me wants to hide my face, but the bigger part of me wants to prove I can obey, even trembling like this.
Then the door opens.
He steps inside with that calm, controlled confidence I’ve only ever heard through a phone speaker. Seeing him in person steals the breath from my chest—he’s even more handsome, more commanding than I imagined. My cheeks burn, my pulse jumps, and I avert my gaze without thinking.
He stops in front of me, close enough that I can feel the weight of his presence.
“Look at me,” he says.
I do—slowly, shyly—and his expression tells me he already knows what I’m feeling.
“Good girl.”
Two simple words, but they slide right through every nervous thought in my head, replacing them with something low and warm. My body reacts before I can think, my posture straightening, my breath catching, the need to please him sinking deeper
