This is the last chapter in my real life story of meeting my online Dom. Thank you for taking the time to read, vote, and send feedback. It’s greatly appreciated. To Kunal, this story is but a small token that I give to you, in appreciation for all that you’ve given to me.


Just now I’ve started to fall for you,
Don’t talk about being upset with me now.


When I woke up, the apartment was still filled with light. I felt the warmth of Kunal’s chest against my cheek. I looked up at him and let out a soft laugh. He was busy texting on his phone.

“Hello. It’s about time you woke up,” he smiled as he reached over to ruffle my hair.

I smiled back at him and stretched, working out the kinks. “What time is it?”

Kunal checked the time on his phone. “It’s 7:30. You’ve been asleep for an hour.”

“That late?” I groaned. “We missed dinner. And we were going to go to the Eiffel Tower tonight. You wanted to see it at night, didn’t you?”

“Yes. We can still see it tonight.”

“Should we eat now or after,” I asked.

“Let’s get something to eat afterwards,” Kunal said.

We got up to dress and freshen up before heading out, opting to take a taxi for the trip to the Eiffel Tower. At 8:30pm when we got there, the sun was still shining brightly in the west, illuminating the graceful skeleton of the tower. The sinuous line to get tickets for the elevator to the top was so long that the walk from where the taxi had dropped us off to the end of it was barely fifty feet.

The place was teeming with people, both in line and mulling around. The base of the Eiffel Tower and the large, open-lawn park in front of it is one of the social hubs in Paris with people not only there to see the tower, but also to spread out a blanket and have a picnic, visit with friends, relax and enjoy themselves.

The line inched forward bit by bit. I was not used to eating so late and my stomach reminded me of it when I spotted a refreshment stand up ahead.

“Kunal,” I turned to him in line. “I’m going to get something at the stand up there. Would you like anything?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t want anything.”

“Are you sure? We haven’t had anything since lunch.”

“No. I am okay.”

“Not even a drink?” I asked. “Anything?”

“Fine, I will have tea,” he finally relented.

“Great.” I strode off in the direction of the stand, leaving Kunal to hold our place in line. I decided to skip the premade sandwiches in the display case, figuring that we would be eating as soon as we were done seeing the tower. I went with a water instead, but the choice for Kunal was not so simple. They had cold tea, no hot tea, which was what I knew he liked to drink. I stood there for a few minutes trying to decide what to do. Rather than assuming he would want the cold tea and risk him being upset that I had gotten that for him, I decided to relieve him of his place in line and let him get exactly what he wanted. I paid for my water and headed back to Kunal.

“They had cold tea, but no hot tea, and I didn’t know if you’d want that so I thought you could go and decide what you wanted,” I rambled incessantly.

“You said you were going to get something for me,” Kunal said. “Why didn’t you at least bring me a water.”

“Because I didn’t know if you’d want that,” I said. The tension level immediately escalated as Kunal’s displeasure became apparent. My heart started racing. “What would you like me to get you? I’ll go back and get you whatever you’d like.”

“Don’t worry,” Kunal said stiffly. He was looking everywhere but at me. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, the one that I got whenever I had not met his expectations or done something wrong, was growing.

“Here,” I held out my water. “At least have this.”

“No. I don’t want it.”

“Okay,” I said. There was nothing else to do. I had disappointed him. I should have been more proactive in choosing something he would like to drink if they didn’t have his first choice. Instead I just shrugged off the responsibility because I was fearful of making the wrong choice. What I failed to realize until later was that to Kunal, making any other choice would have been better than doing nothing. It would have shown initiative. Instead, to show his disappointment in my behavior, Kunal was choosing to ignore me.

Here I stood in Paris, waiting to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, one of the most iconic, romantic spots in the world. I wasn’t expecting romance, but to be with someone who was purposely ignoring you was not how I pictured this moment. The minutes dragged on as we slowly moved forward in the line. I snapped pictures of people and the interesting design elements of the Eiffel Tower. Every so often I would talk to Kunal and see if his disappointment with me had thawed. His resolve was as strong as the steel beams of the tower itself. He would answer me in short, clipped answers or with the smallest hint of an acknowledgement. He did not look me in the eye. I pushed down the feelings of anxiousness that kept trying to creep in; the panic that he still wasn’t talking to me; the worry that I would never return to his good graces. I focused instead on trying to have a good attitude.

We were almost to the ticket counter and it was ten o’clock, an hour and a half after we had first joined the queue. I could tell Kunal’s patience was wearing thin. He didn’t see the benefit in waiting in line to go up to the top of the tower anyway. For him it was good enough just to see the Eiffel Tower while standing on the ground. I had convinced him that he had to go up; had made him wait in line all this time, only to promise more waits for elevators as we ascended; and I had made a huge error in judgment with the tea.

As we stood under the tower, a collective sound of excitement went up from the huge crowd gathered on the lawn in front of the tower. It was at that moment that we realized that the the Eiffel Tower had started to “twinkle.” Every night after dark, at each hour, for just 5 minutes, millions of tiny lights on the tower light up, creating a breathtaking sight. I looked at Kunal and he gave me a hint of a smile. I smiled big in return and breathed a sigh of relief.

I can’t say it was easy from there. It was still an ordeal to take the elevators and wait in the other lines to go up and then to come down. Kunal was still not letting me off. He was still rather terse and kept to himself. I quietly enjoyed the views and took pictures, making sure I watched him to see when he was ready to go. But he was more solicitous of my well-being, making sure I was okay and asking if I needed to sit or rest as we waited.

By the time we finally got back to the base of the tower it was just before midnight. We waited the few minutes to see the tower sparkle. Up until that point we had been under or on it the two times the light show had occurred.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I said as the millions of lights danced on the tower.

“Yes,” Kunal answered. We just stood there, each lost in thought as we watched the spectacle. As the twinkling lights dimmed for the last time that night, the crowd applauded one last time and thoughts turned to home.

“It’s so late,” I said, looking at the time. “What are we going to do about dinner?” There were no restaurants that were open in there area.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kunal said. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to the apartment. There might be a place open near there.”

We waited in yet another line that night to get a taxi, but this time it was very different. The silence between us wasn’t one imposed by a Dom upon his sub, but a comfortable one of peace and reflection on the shared experiences, both trying and tremendous, that we had just had. When we got back to the neighborhood, there were no restaurants open. Too tired to care, we went straight to the apartment, changed to get more comfortable and lay in bed to talk about dinner. It had been a long day. Kunal put his arm around me and we drifted off to sleep, both exhausted from our excursion.

It was one thirty in the morning when I woke up, got out of bed and went to get some water. Kunal started stirring. “You haven’t eaten anything, Kunal. Do you want me to fix you some dinner?”

“Yes,” he replied, “but aren’t you hungry too?”

“No. We had a big lunch. Maybe I’ll eat a bit, but I know you need to eat.” I have never cooked a meal for anyone at one thirty in the morning, but I was more than happy to do it now. The ice had completely thawed between us. I was glad to be back in his good graces and able to fulfill his needs by cooking for him. At that moment, nothing made me happier.

Kunal finished up his meal and I washed and dried the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. He kept a close I on me from his vantage point on the bed. He was too quiet and I was wondering what was going through his head.

“Come here,” he said as he got up from the bed and stood beside it.

“Okay.” I walked out of the kitchen area and stood in front of him.

“Get down on your knees,” Kunal commanded in a calm, measured voice.

“Yes, Sir.” He had never told me I had to call him Sir, but in this moment I could call him nothing else. I slid to my knees at his feet.

“I want you to suck my cock,” he said, merely as a formality. We both knew what I was doing on my knees.

I reached up to slide his shorts down, his cock bobbing to attention as it was freed from its confines. He kicked his shorts aside and stared down at me. I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and licked my lips before gliding them over the head of his throbbing member.

“Don’t use your hands,” he said.

I quickly dropped my hands to my side as I licked and sucked on his swelling shaft. I welcomed the intrusion as he slid deeper into my mouth, filling me. My tongue caressed the underside of his cock.

“That’s it. Deeper, Belle.” Kunal tangled his hands in my hair, grabbing the back of my head and putting pressure on me to take him in deeper. “A little further,” he urged. I eagerly pushed forward with his encouragement.

“You greedy slut,” he hissed. “You want all of my cock?”

I nodded emphatically, unable to say anything with my mouth stuffed full of his throbbing length. Looking up I saw the fire in his eyes.

“You’re going to get it then, you little whore.” Kunal shoved his cock deep into my throat in one thrust. I fought desperately against the urge to gag, my eyes watering. He let me go a little and I took a breath before swallowing almost the full length of him. He thrust over and over, fucking my mouth, going further and further with each thrust until my face was pressed up against him. Tears streamed down my cheeks as my body tried to expel the invading cock. Kunal wouldn’t give in until he had what we both wanted.

He groaned as his climax neared, bucking his hips against me as he held my head. “I’m going to come,” he hissed. “Take it all, Belle.”

I struggled to swallow fast enough as my mouth began to fill with the copious amounts of cum shooting from his swollen cock. I reveled in the moment. My knees ached from being on the hard floor. My jaw was stretched to soreness. I had streaks down my cheeks from the tears that came while gagging. My mouth was filled with his cum. I swallowed everything and sucked his softening cock. My tongue circled his shaft as I slid back on my heels, letting him slip slowly from my mouth. I looked up at him with a smile.

“Good girl,” he said, stroking the top of my hand.

I got to my feet and leaned up to give him a soft kiss.

We got into bed and I curled up next to him. Another day of our adventure had passed.


It was five days into our trip and there I sat, still wearing the same outfit – washed several times, but the same one, nonetheless. After numerous delays and promises, my suitcase was supposed to be delivered by 9pm that night. We were stuck in the apartment waiting for it. At 6pm the delivery van showed up and you would have thought I had won the lottery with all the jumping up and down and squealing I did. I was ecstatic at the thought of having options for outfits.

“Kunal, I want to wear one of my dresses tonight.”

He smiled at me, knowing how excited I was. “Good idea. We’ll get dressed up to go out.”

I ran into the bathroom with my clothes in hand, having already showered while we were waiting for the suitcase to come. I slipped into my maxi dress, the deep v of the neckline perfectly framing my ample breasts. The hem skimmed just above my meticulously manicured toes as I slipped them into some black sandals. I shrugged on a little sweater to ward off any evening chill and gave my dark brown hair a little toss to shake out the natural waves that cascaded down my back. I looked in the mirror to check my makeup. “A little gloss and we’ll be good to go,” I said to the reflection.

Coming out of the bathroom, a dark purple dress shirt, black slacks and swanky black dress shoes greeted me. I’m a sucker for a well-dressed man and Kunal was impeccably dressed, but with a relaxed, confident air about him.

“Let me see. Give me a twirl,” he said with a conspiratorial grin. “Finally I don’t have to look at you in that same outfit. This is definitely an improvement.”

My smile was wide as I give the requested twirl. “I’m so happy!”

“Yes, let’s go show off your clothes.” Kunal headed for the door, opening it and ushering me out to begin our evening.

Paris is the city of endless museums. There seems to be one on every block. During our one week stay, Kunal and I didn’t even see a fraction of them. But if you go to Paris, there are certain things you have to see. Along with the Eiffel Tower, you must take a trip to the Louvre, former palace to French kings, and current home of the Mona Lisa. This was our destination for the evening. It was one of the nights each week when the Louvre was open late. We strolled through the labyrinth of rooms, gazing on priceless works of art and pieces of antiquity.

After a few hours, we had our fill of culture and took a cab to a small little restaurant in a quiet part of the city. There couldn’t have been more than twelve tiny tables in the place and we were seated right next to another couple. It was so close I could’ve eaten off the plate of the man next to me. The atmosphere fit our mood, lending itself to hushed conversation and reflection on the day’s events. We closed the place down at 11pm and started heading back on the long walk through the neighborhoods and across the river to our apartment. The city was illuminated by store lights, the lights of cafes as they were starting closing, and light from people’s apartments that filtered down to the streets below.

As we came to the river, the dark waters of the river beckoned. We walked down the steps to the wide walkway along the Seine, now transformed for the summer into Paris’ very own beach. People were clustered in groups or pairs, eating, talking and laughing as they lounged in the sand. Kunal walked along beside me in silence, both of us taking it in – the people, the pale, yellow moon glowing just above the horizon in the distance, the beautiful buildings, illuminated so their glory could be appreciated even at night. There was a serenity woven amongst the gentle hum of activity.

The steps we walked up to the pedestrian bridge were lit only by the moonlight. Clusters of people stood or sat on benches or along the bridge itself, talking, sharing wine and cheese. A group of friends sat to one side: two guitar players, a singer, a man with a hand drum, and one with a huge upright bass. Their impromptu performance was done only for themselves, but it fill the immediate area with its mellow beats and melodies.

We spotted a bench, surprisingly empty in this popular hang out spot. By unspoken agreement in the moment we were drawn to it. Sitting there, each wrapped in our own thoughts, we were lulled by the smooth music. It was a time where everything comes together to create something that is indescribable. Every perfect moment must end eventually and become a memory. I turned to Kunal. “We should probably head back.”

“Yes,” he said. We both reluctantly left that magical spot and walked toward the left bank and our home away from home. By the time we got back it was well past midnight. We shrugged out of our clothes, me into pajamas and Kunal into a pair of shorts, and slipped into bed, easily falling into a comfortable sleep.


The morning sun filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows of the studio apartment, the curtains unable to shut out all the light. My eyes reluctantly opened the smallest sliver as I reached a hand out to the side table, groping blindly for my cell phone to check the time. It was already nine thirty in the morning. I dropped the phone back on the table and turned my head towards Kunal. All thoughts of sleep were banished as the sight of him made my heart start to race. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was sleeping peacefully. The crisp white sheet was down around his waist, contrasting starkly against his light brown skin. I wanted to run my fingers through his dark, wavy hair and kiss along the curve of his perfectly formed ear. I watched his chest, made darker by the black chest hair that covered it, rise and fall with each breath. Everything about his body begged me to touch him.

I tentatively reached out my hand and stroked a few fingertips across his shoulder. I didn’t want to disturb his sleep, but I had to be close to him, to have some part of me in contact with him. Those connections with him: a word, a smile, a look, a touch, breathed life into me. He stirred and looked over at me, a smile spreading across his face on seeing me awake.

“Mmmm. Come here,” Kunal said sleepily as he pulled me over to him and tucked me against his side. I fit my body to his, my head cradled in the crook of his arm. My eyes were level with the undulating curves of his chest, muscles rippling just beneath the surface of his caramel skin. I watched my pale, white fingers glide along the hill of his ribcage and dip into the valley of his sternum, amazed at the texture of the hair: crisp, yet soft. There was just the right amount. I lazily stroked the curves and ridges and sighed peacefully as he lay there dozing. Pressed against the warmth of his skin, I breathed him in. His scent was exotic, spicy, alive; filling my head. It cleared out all rational thought and seeped into every corner of my mind, driving my insatiable desire for him.

My tongue darted out to lick at his nipple. He sucked in a breath and I smiled to myself. The tip of my tongue swirled around his dark nipple again before I kissed it, sucking gently. My had glided across his chest in search of the other nipple, circling it. Kunal pressed me against him, his hand sliding up my back to tangle in my long, brown hair.

“Are you my kitten?” Kunal asked in a husky voice.

I moaned my answer against his skin as my tongue swiped across it. I began to kiss my way up his chest, clinging to him, moving from his side to lay on him. My kisses were urgent, laced with desire, licking here, nipping there. I kissed a path up his neck, gently biting the underside of his chin, my sensitive lips scratched by his stubble. His hand had found its way under my shirt, caressing my bare back, coaxing me to continue my journey. His other hand slid down to cup my ass as I kissed up over his jaw to his lips. My admiring fingers stroked his shoulders and ran down along the strong curves of his arm muscles.

Kunal toyed with my eagerness, feeding it, pushing me to a place of greater desire, firmly kneading my ass and grazing his hand along the side of my breast. All the while I kissed and licked at his lips, silently begging him to let me in, to deepen the kiss. Without warning he sucked my tongue gently into his mouth, just the tip. I let out a groan and became putty in his arms.

July 2018
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