More from Aspen

• Aspen’s Weak Spot: Roni Takes Control

  January 16, 2026

  Aspen’s Weak Spot: Roni Takes Control

  By Aspen · Bio · More Blogs · Twitter

  

  I can never resist Roni’s unspoken invitation, the subtle shift in her demeanor that signals it’s time to surrender. As she takes control, a shiver of anticipation dances down my spine. Her eyes, dark and knowing, hold mine captive as she leads me deeper into the web she’s already woven.

  With a confident tilt of her head, Roni begins the slow unraveling. Her fingers trail deliberately across my skin, igniting heat and restraint in equal measure. Every touch is calculated, every pause intentional, and I ache exactly the way she wants me to.

  I lean in instinctively, craving her warmth, her mouth, her permission. But Roni doesn’t rush. She never does. She lets the wanting build until it’s unbearable, until my body betrays me before my words ever could.

  Her presence fills the room completely. I breathe her in, the familiar cadence of her control settling deep inside me. Every second stretches longer than the last, and I realize too late that this waiting is the point.

  With Roni, it’s never about getting there. It’s about losing yourself on the way. And I always do. Willingly. Completely.

  By the time she finally touches me the way I need, I’m already undone. Because she didn’t have to ask for my surrender. She took her time… and I gave it to her.

  Curious how she remembers it? Read Roni’s version here.

  She knew I’d wait. I always do.

  Aspen

  📞 888-750-4746 ext. 899

• Come on My Voice

  December 31, 2025

  Come On My Voice

  

  Comfort doesn’t mean soft — it means I know exactly how to keep you right where I want you. My friend Harper was always a wild card, but beneath that reckless exterior, I knew her hunger for control. So when she called me breathless, ready to give in, I was ready to reel her in.

  “Harper, slow down,” I soothed, my tone a deliberate counterpoint to her racing heartbeats. “Breathe with me.” I guided her through deep, steady inhales and exhales, until her frantic gasps evened out. “Good girl,” I praised, the phrase dripping with intimacy and dominance.

  As she leaned into my words, I tightened my hold, speaking with a calm authority that cloaked a knowing edge. “You’re safe, I’ve got you. Let go and trust me.” Her tremors stilled as my voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

  “Rise up, baby,” I encouraged, urging her higher and higher on the edge of pleasure. “Show me what you’re made of.” Each word was a command, a petition to her deepest desires. “That’s it, give in…,” I coaxed, as Harper’s moans grew louder, more urgent.

  With a final, deliberate murmur, I pushed her over the precipice. “Come on my voice,” I commanded, and she shattered, her release as intense as the moments leading up to it. “Shh, it’s okay… just let it wash over you,” I soothed as the aftershocks subsided.

  As we slowly came back to earth, I whispered reassurance in her ear. “You’re mine now, Harper. And mine is where you belong.”

  She’d hang up steady, flushed, and very aware of whose voice was still echoing in her head — the knowledge that, with me, she was never truly out of control.

  ---

  Still hearing my voice?

  XOXO,

  Aspen

  📞 888-750-4746 ext. 899

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