u/FigureDrawPractice

I've always wanted a sub who was so willing to be under my complete control that she'd essentially become my little free-use toy in and outside the home.

She'd have a leash attached to her collar whenever we step out and walk alongside me in the outfit I picked out for her that day. When we arrive at my local cafe, I'd tie her up out front, leaving some part of her exposed by undoing a few buttons or pulling her panties down around her ankles; whatever I was in the mood for everyone to see that day.

When I emerge with my drink, we'd find a spot to sit down so that she could kneel on the little pad she carries around (her sole possession) and take me into her mouth while I enjoyed my coffee in a spill-proof thermos.

Folks passing by would look on in desire, envy, or disgust, but she wouldn't be allowed to stop to acknowledge any of them without my express permission. I like the idea of someone asking if they can "pet" her by twisting a nipple through a thin top or running their fingers between her legs.

If we had a particularly curious onlooker or two, I might even let them determine where on (or inside) her body they want me to cum. Either way, she'd wear that slow, sticky drip like a badge of honor during the return walk home.

This is actually based on something decades ago, but I never stopped fantasizing about what it might have been like to take things further than they initially went.

In my mid-20s, I moved to a new city and took a liking to this hairstylist I regularly saw. She was nearly 20 years older than me and had this sort of tanned, bleached-blonde aesthetic I would best describe as "surfer girl turned mombod." In addition to giving me a great look, talking with her was effortless and our friendliness would even turn flirtatious at times. To be completely honest with you, as much as I desired it, I could not muster the courage to actually make a move and ask her out. Regret it all the time.

But. There was one day that I (clearly) still think about often. It was an unusually hot day so I was wearing a short sleeve shirt and she was wearing a tank top with these very loose looking linen pants (all important to note). As she went to work snipping away and bending over to grab items from her door, it was impossible to not notice her generous cleavage. It didn't take her long to catch me looking in the mirror, but she just smiled warmly and kept working.

At one point, she stood behind me and ran her fingers through the hair at temples and it just sent this jolt through me that made me sit up. In doing so, my elbow bumped into her lower-torso. I apologized, but she shrugged it off. A few minutes later, she told me she needed to adjust the chair real quick and lowered me about two or three inches. I kept my elbow in place, hoping she might graze it again.

I didn't have to hope long. I felt my elbow against her again, but this time, I was making contact with a much softer part of her body and neither of us pulled back. I could see her breathing more heavily and could feel myself getting turned on beneath the (thankfully) dark apron they put over everyone. Afraid of ruining the moment with my expression or gaze, I decided to just close my eyes and let her take the lead while she continued cutting.

We were both completely silent and the contact between us had gone on for so long, I knew it was intentional. I remember feeling such a strange mix of arousal and not knowing what to do next. The material of her pants so thin that I could feel the warmth of her body against the skin of my arm. She kept herself there or returned to that spot for the duration of the haircut. It took an incredible amount of effort to keep my legs together in such a way that I wouldn't reveal how hard I was.

I finally snapped out of it when she started with the hair dryer and brush to clean off any stray hairs before lifting the apron. We had a sort of hurried, polite goodbye before I went to pay at the front desk and never had moment of contact like that again. All future visits were still just as friendly, but the flirtatiousness never returned. I don't know if she felt she had crossed a line and was trying to steer clear of it or what, but I'm just glad I still got to see her from time to time.

So now, whenever she comes to mind and I'm feeling in the mood, I think about what it would have been like to have kept my eyes open that day. To give her an approving nod when our eyes found each other. To be bold enough to press my elbow back into her, maybe even rotating it slightly so she could grind against me. How she might try to conceal her tiny moans from her co-workers with the noise of that hairdryer. All until she was able to quietly get herself off or excused herself to the restroom immediately after I hopped out of the chair to hurriedly use her own fingers to get herself the rest of the way there before she collapsed against the locked door, red-faced and panting.