When my fiancée and owner has a date that turns into a sleepover, there’s a routine we follow. It’s not dramatic, it’s not sad, it’s just logistics. There’s only so much room in a double bed, and I’m not the one she’s sleeping with. So when playtime ends and sleep time starts, I make sure her date has water, a blanket, whatever he needs, then I take my obedient ass to the couch.
That’s my role. I know it. I’m good at it.
So imagine my surprise when I woke up very suddenly to her weight pressing down on my face.
I was half asleep, confused, still trying to figure out what time it was when I heard his voice. Calm. Casual. Like this was the most natural thing in the world. Telling me what he wanted me to do while he took her from behind.
And here’s the thing that matters. I didn’t move because he said it. I moved because she did. She shifted, guided me, let me know this was happening because she wanted it to. Because it pleased her. Because she enjoys putting me exactly where she wants me.
I obeyed.
It was awkward. Messy. Way more complicated than porn ever makes it look. Bodies in motion, limited space, trying to focus on doing my job while not getting in the way. There’s a lot going on when one person is trying to give their full attention while another is setting a pace that doesn’t exactly account for precision.
We didn’t last long in that configuration. A few minutes at most before reality caught up and it became clear this was not the optimal setup. So everything paused, everyone laughed a little, and the whole situation migrated back to the bedroom where there was room to do things properly.
Still, waking up like that? Being pulled straight from sleep into service? That sticks with you. It’s one of those moments that reminds me how fluid my role is, how quickly I can be repositioned from “out for the night” to “actively involved.”
I went back to the couch later, body buzzing, brain fried, fully aware that even when I think the night is over, it never really is.
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