My fantasies of Alex are firmly rooted in a power dynamic and subtle domination. I always come back to the same scene- I am on my knees in front of his cock. Presumably he is naked but I can’t picture it; my perspective is from below, looking up at him as he looks down at me, watching fixedly. His dick is hard, jutting out at an obscene angle, and he’s making me put a condom on him with my mouth. I manage to get it over the head of his cock, and use my lips to slide it down another two inches. Softly, almost gently, he commands "Further." And though he never raises his voice, never says a cruel word, I can feel the power radiating off of him: he is the one in control, and the role comes naturally- it isn’t an act or a silly sadomasochistic game.

"Further." he encourages me, and I look up at him with adoring, puppy-dog eyes and try to take him deeper, to roll the condom down all the way on his long and slender cock. I can’t quite do it- I gag a little, coughing, and the slightest of smiles plays on his lips as his fingers lightly play in my hair and he looks down at me from his heavy-lidded eyes with that indulgent smile. In the same way that Vince was physically incredibly sensitive and responsive, Alex barely has an erotic response- no groans, no bucking hips; all of his pleasure seems rooted in the psychological game he’s playing with me. I work hard to deep-throat him, not particularly because I want to, but because he is demanding it without having to say it, and surprisingly, I like it, the continuous tries, the slow but steady progress I make.

In the other half of the fantasy, he fucks my ass. It is slow and surprisingly gentle, but it’s the nature of the sex- anal- that gives it that particular edge of power. I am merciless to however he chooses to do it, though there are no ropes or restraints for me. I’m on my hands and knees and he lubes me, ignores my pussy completely, and slowly works in, deeper and deeper, paving way, and when he’s finally in completely, every stroke is so long I think it’s never going to end- he pulls out until I feel the head of his cock stretching, threatening to come out, but it never does- he painstakingly works back in. He never speeds up, never thrusts hard, and he does this over and over. I slip up one hand to touch my clit but it’s not frantic, either- just a warm buzzing feeling while he penetrates my ass, one that makes me sigh contentedly, feeling absolved of all responsibility and work- just a passive actor.

He doesn't come, but I do- stuffed full of him and slowly working myself back and deeper into the type of slow orgasm where everything has been primed- it's the lightest touch that sets you off, and the orgasm rolls sensuously instead of ripping right through you. Afterwards, I lay on my back on the cool cement ground and he perches beside me, above me so that I have to raise my eyes to look at him, and smokes a cigarette.