Yes, Daddy. No, Daddy.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written a date recap, for many reasons. 80% of the people I’m dating or have dated aren’t super interested in having their stories up online for the world to see. Even if nobody really knows who they are, it weirds some people out, so I tend to either write about that only slightly, or not at all. I skip the details to keep everyone comfortable as I’d rather have them focused on enjoying our time together, and also because sharing details sort of weird me out a bit. I’m not a sex blogger. I’m a relationships blogger. I don’t talk about cock or pussy and what I’m doing with them usually.

But, with the addition of my new role as co-host of Tell Me Something Good, a monthly sexy storytelling slam, here in Toronto, I’m learning to become much more comfortable with sharing details of my dating life, as long as the other person is ok with it as well. (Consent is sexy!) I’m learning to share some of the sexy, juicy details, because it seems that people like to hear this stuff. And hope I can continue to get better at it and keep my lovers happy at the same time.

So, without anymore rambling, I want to tell you about my NSFW date the other day with James / Daddy. I’ve decided to call him James because he is my James Deen. Cute, handsome, funny, dorky, but with a wonderful understanding of how to play with power exchange in a way that makes me melt. It’s unfortunately quite possible that we won’t have any more play time as he’s evaluating everything in his life right now, and seeing if that will fit. It would be an understatement for me to say that I hope it does continue because I can’t even deal with how sexy he makes me feel and how sad I would be to lose that intimate connection with him so quickly after finding it and finding my place as a submissive girl once more.

Look away if you don’t like stories about cocks in throat. This is not your normal Samantha “relationship advice” blog post.

I picked him up on Wednesday morning. The entire drive over, about ten minutes of eternity in total, I felt like throwing up. While my brain didn’t feel anxious, my body was ready to make everything as difficult as possible for my comfort levels. I was more than just a little excited, having chatted with him so much since we first saw each other, a week prior. My mind was buzzing with all of the things that I wanted to say to him on the drive back to my place. I was going to tell him how excited I was to see him. How I felt about the sunshine. How much I had missed him. What I had for breakfast. How nervous, yet turned on I was, about the sex we were going to be having soon. How I had to say out loud “Ok, here goes” to myself, in the car, when I turned down the last street to pick him up.

When I arrived, he was waiting outside in the sunshine. He looked so ridiculously handsome, I felt a wave of happiness rush over me for making a hot decision. When he got in the car, I was ready to start gushing, typical Samantha ramble that usually comes out of my mouth when I’m nervous, but I never had the chance. As I was looking at him with a big, dumb grin on my face, he looked at me sternly and said, “From now on until we get to your place, you’re only allowed to say ‘Yes, Daddy’ or ‘No, Daddy’. Do you understand?”

I shivered instantly. I had called him Daddy once in a message (and strangely in my head, often when I thought of him), but didn’t think I’d be saying it so soon. I thought I would at least have the ten minute drive to prepare for the fun and sexy “training” that we had been discussing lately. But, I was obviously wrong, silly girl. I turned the car around to head back toward my place, and began to feel everything at once.

To start with, I was upset that I wasn’t going to get the time to talk to him in the car, annoyed that the thing I had been really looking forward that entire drive over to had been taken away. On the other hand, here was this other much larger thing that I had been wanting for at least a week, suddenly happening all around me. As I drove down the street he was pinching and flicking my nipples, licking and sucking them occasionally, while I stayed focused on the road. When I looked to my right to see his handsome face, he told me that it was my job to keep my eyes on the road. It was torture. All I wanted to do was steal quick glances, to see his jawline, his lovely eyes, his thighs that I wanted my hands on so badly.

So, naturally my hands tried to travel from the gearshift to his legs. I wanted to touch him so badly; something about rubbing thighs while driving makes me crazy. The feel of the jeans underneath my hand as I slowly move my fingers up to the crotch. But instead, he decided to make me crazier by forcefully grabbing my hand and putting it back onto the gearshift. My job was to keep driving, to keep us safe, to pay attention to the road.

“Yes, Daddy.”

And then, when I would be least expecting it, he would grab my hand and place it on his large, hard cock in his jeans. Every moment was on his terms, every word I said controlled by my surrender to his simple, yet meaningful instructions. It was brilliant. It was perfect. I was ecstatic.

When we made it back to my place and went inside, I was finally able to look at him as he removed his jacket and shoes. James is a totally hot guy; I love his style, his eyes, and the stern look he was giving me at that moment. I hadn’t been allowed to talk in the car and wasn’t about to make an assumption that I was off the hook once at home, so I just stood there like an idiot, eagerly anticipating whatever was coming next.

“I’m going to go and use the bathroom, and you’re going to go the place where I am going to fuck you, and then you will get naked.”

“Yes, Daddy.” (squeeeeeee!)

Geezus, are you kidding? At that moment, I would’ve done anything he said. I would’ve probably taken off all my clothes on the spot and crawled upstairs, feeling incredibly exposed but devoted as I did it. But instead I quickly grabbed a glass of water and head upstairs to do as Daddy asked, while he had a quick pee.

Taking off all of my clothes without him in the room was less satisfying than I had hoped. One of the things I really like about him is how comfortable he makes me feel in my own skin – it helps that he tells me how much he jerks off to my photos! – but on that day, I had specifically chosen my new bra and underwear set just for him, I wanted him to see that extra bit of effort I had made on his behalf. It was a silly thing really, but I was excited to show off for him. I decided in a momentary act of defiance to take my time at least removing the underwear; I don’t like my body or my ass but he says he does and I wanted him to see how good they looked in these panties.

That backfired, obviously. When he came into the room he said to me, in a disappointed tone, “I said completely naked.” I rushed to take them off because in that instant it didn’t matter what I wanted, only what Daddy wanted. I suspect that if it hadn’t been our first day of in-person “training”, I may have actually been punished for that, but luckily not this time.

He told me to get on the bed, on my knees facing him, with my head down on the mattress. This is one of my most favourite poses to begin with, one where a lot of my fantasies of being taken from behind start, so I was eager to do it. He told me “Tits on the bed” and I tried, I really did. But I wanted to look at him from behind. I wanted to watch him take his clothes off slowly. I wanted to look up and admire his body, his beautiful cock; I wanted to take it all in. Metaphorically speaking to start with.

As he stood at the end of the bed and positioned his cock in front of my face, I reached out to touch it with my tongue. I always assume that when there’s a cock in my face, attached to a person I really like, that I’m going to put it in my mouth, right? Wrong. I was in trouble for that, and he made sure to let me know he was disappointed with his words, a slap across the face (heaven!), and his hands on my throat. It’s hard in those moments to stay focused, but I suppose that’s what “training” is all about. Learning to let go of control completely. Learning to not make a move unless I am told to. It’s an unbelievably powerful feeling to give that position to someone, to surrender your every breath to their every wish.

He fucked my throat so intensely that I swore I was going to throw up. (I didn’t.) It has been a while since my gag reflex has been truly tested with such brute force, and so I’m out of practice, but I think I did a good job. I go deep on the other cocks in my life but that’s different because I’m controlling when and how deep, for the most part. This was different as every thrust was me becoming a hole, all for him. A hole covered in spit and tears, with smeared makeup running down my cheeks. This was a moment of allowing this man, my new Daddy, to use me to make himself feel good. This … was a very good moment.

He fucked me with his hands for a while, and I know that one of these times he’s going to make me squirt all over the place because he’s ridiculously good at that too. I didn’t have a clitoral orgasm – honestly there wouldn’t have been enough time –  but he pounded my g-spot into orgasmic submission with expert precision. I had a moment of wanting, needing, him to stop, but he kept going because a) he gets off on torturing me a bit and b) he knew I would enjoy it if I pushed myself.

He was right.

When it was time to fuck, I was so excited to finally give myself to him. He first fucked me from behind and I gladly found the rhythm and backed into his movements. We moved so well together, whether it was slowly in a moment of pause, or quickly as he entered me so deeply that it felt like he was going to come out my throat. He fucked me like he owned me, just like I was hoping he would. In that moment I was his girl, ready to do and be anything for him, and he was my Daddy. He even made me bleed (and was super cool about it).

After a while he said that he just wanted to fuck and not be Daddy. And that was totally fine and great too. We don’t always exist in those roles, in fact more often than not we don’t. He had flipped me over and we were looking into each other’s eyes, deeply and intensely. I felt every thrust go through my entire body, feeling occasionally overwhelmed at the intimacy levels between us after such a short period of knowing one another. It was a super turn on feeling him touch me passionately and with care, similar to the more controlling dominance of before, but with an added layer of sensuality and intimacy.

When he came in my mouth and on my face, I was ecstatic. As he wiped off the drips from my lips, cheeks, and chin, I felt perfectly taken care of, perfectly safe, and perfectly sexy. Then came one of the best bits, where we lay there postcoital, naked, cuddling, and chatting. There was no Daddy. No babygirl. Just James and Samantha, being human with each other. I like those moments of humanity. I like not knowing when the switch is going to happen. I like being instructed but I also like being free.

I found out after the fact that he was in a bit of a weird brain space after cumming, due to some heavy stuff in his life right now that I guess the clarity of an orgasm made room for in his mind. He apologized for it and thanked me for being cool after the fact, but having not known him very long, and especially not in person, I honestly noticed nothing at the time. I guess he normally goes for round 2 right after and didn’t this time, something I’m not very used to on other dates, so it went right over my head if he was a bit “off”. It was our first time together, after all.

After a little while we sadly both had to get on with our days, so I drove him back. This time around though I was allowed to talk and I was allowed to touch. And so I did both of those things with a big goofy grin on my face, and that grin has barely left my face since.

I really hope that there will be more play dates and more of these stories to tell. It’s so powerful to feel sexy and safe in that way again and to choose to give that level of trust. It’s not something I give away easily.