Erika didn’t try to dominate me the way some of my previous, male, lovers did, despite the fact that she knew that she could do, if she so chose. It was what I had become used to and what I expected from her at first. It didn’t take long for me to become accustomed to the idea that while she was the dominant one in the bedroom, it just wasn’t the same type of dominance that I could have expected from a man. Unlike her predecessors, she didn’t want to tell me what to do in bed, and it took me a little while to get used to that fact, and a little longer to get her used to the idea that I would enjoy having her do that to me.

She could, with her ability, simply have pushed her pussy into my face with the instruction “Lick this, bitch,” and backed it up by waving her Wolvers or Cats Claws in front my eyes. I knew that fact, just as well as she did. It would never have happened of course, and we both knew that as well.

I also knew that if I’d looked up at her and replied, “If you want that thing licking, you can go and wash it out first,” I could be certain that she’d have gone into the bathroom and done exactly that. She’d have taken the head off the shower, and inserted that inside herself, and literally washed herself out if it was what she thought I wanted. I was quite used to the taste of my young lover’s honeypot by then, I’d just never licked semen from it before.

If any of the girls I went to school with had told me that when I grew up I’d become accustomed to the taste of pussy, not to mention actually enjoy licking one, I’d have laughed at her. If she wasn’t as big as I was, I may well have punched her lights out for the insult. Ironic really, wasn’t it?

We both played the role of the dominatrix later in our time together, but I emphasize the word ‘played’, and only for fun.