Virginity Lost . . . Again

As of this past Saturday my non-existant sex life has become null and void.  Altho, I have a feeling it will become quite active again as of the following day.

I had a date.  A date that was suppose to be a mini-golfing extravaganza w/ a friendly wager involved.  However since torrential downpours and poor planning on his part did that activity in, we opted for movie watching.  At my place. 

 No good can come of a man and woman watching a movie where there is a bedroom a few feet away.  Unless you consider awkward getting to know you kisses and even more awkward, “Is he going to fuck me?” questions running thru my head something good.  I suppose in the end, it was good.  Good in the fact that my born-again virgin status has left me for the  time being. 

It started off innocently enough w/ him showing up on my door at about 9:45 in the evening.  He selected a movie of mine to watch since we seemed to have had mixed signals about who was going to be renting a movie.  Popped in the movie and away we went.  It wasn’t like the movie theatres where you yell at a person behind you yacking away about nothing or making those movie going sounds, “oooooh,”  “ahhhhhh,”  “NO! Don’t go in there you fucking idiot!!”  But we only managed to shut up for about 20 minutes of almost 2 hour movie.  The time in between the quiet he spent picking on me.  Or mimmicking me, as he says.  Either way, it was fun and I can’t complain.

After the movie ended the very inevitable, “Are we going to fuck?” resounded thru my head loudly.  Loud enough for me to make the first move and bust out my Bite Me necklace.  I love being bitten, so this helped get his mouth in the right position for kissing me.  We played around w/ that for awhile before I worked our way to my bedroom. 

He had me pushed up against my bed.  My bare breasts in his hands.  His mouth doing torturous things to my neck. My hands stripping him of his shirt. We climbed aboard the bed and he wasted no time in getting my pants off, his fingers up my cunt and his mouth on my clit.  I like a man who goes down on me from the very beginning.  (Altho, I do like a man who’ll eat my pussy like a champ after he’s pumped me till I’m frothing and laps up all the juice he helped to cause.)

After a few raging minutes of me trying unsuccessfully to avoid his mouth and the pleasure he was giving me, he came up for air.  He kissed me.  I do so enjoy tasting myself on a tongue.  I can lick and lap at it all I want w/out fear of feeling like I’m depraved that I want to taste myself.  

I unbuckled his belt.  I freed his cock.  At this time, I learned the man does not own a shaving implement to help control the landscape.  However, I did not let this deter me. I forged on and pushed his pants down his hips.  He then moved to the side and frantically tore his pants and SpongeBob Squarepants boxers off.  I, of course, did the obligatory kissing down his body before I greedily swallowed his cock.  I love the taste of cock.  Especially since I’ve deprived myself of it for so long.  (And have been deprived of it by another.)

I bobbed, I weaved, I swirled.  I sucked, I fucked. I stroked and fondled.  I did everything I remember doing back when I was a blow job giving queen.  I was loving his moans.  His groans of satisfaction.  His, “you’re killing me,” “you’re driving me crazy,” pleasure driven chatter.   I wanted to give it all. I wanted to take it all. 

However my pussy was yelling for attention.  It had been so long feeling that first sure stroke.  And I had minutes to wait.  I don’t know if he needed time to recouperate from the tongue lashing I so richly enjoyed … or if he was as unsure of having sex as I was. 

He spanked my ass. He pulled my hair.  He ran his fingertips down my back.  He bit my neck. He licked my lips.  I turned around and had him spooning me.  I could feel his hard cock trying to search out my pussy.  I arched into him trying to line him up. Hoping upon hope he’d get the picture. 

I turned on my back, placed my leg over his. He thrust his hips and ……… OMG!  He felt so damn good!  I wanted that feeling to stay forever. I love the feeling of having something sliding into me for the first time.  It never gets any better than that.  (Ok, except for that hard driving pounding that only doggy style can give me.) He started fucking me.  And I mean fucking me.  But evidently that wasn’t a good enough position.

He threw my leg over his shoulder and got on his knees.  He fucked me ruthlessly. I was helpless. I loved it.  He laid his weight on top of me. Driving the breath from me as he stroked and ravaged my tight cunt.   I was almost head over heels for this man who was giving what my neglected pussy has been needing for well over a year.   And then he came.

I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted more. I wanted assorted positions. I wanted the thrashing I had been craving for what seems like forever.  I wanted more sweat. I wanted screaming. (Mine, of course.) And pleading, begging.  Some more spanking. A lot more hair pulling. 

But it had been 2 months for him.  I suppose I should cut him a break.  He laid there breathing hard and praising my fellatio skills.  Telling me he’s sorry he didn’t last that long.  I felt way too good.   I’ve heard all this before but coming from him. . . . I’ll take it as it was meant to be: a compliment.

I’ll have to wait to see if this has a to be continued after it.

Wanted: Pleasant Soreness, Again.

In a previous email sent Thursday to me OM inquired as to whether or not I’d be home Friday night.  The answer was an affirmative.  And he asked “I can eat your pussy too if you would like?”  That was another affirmative answer, along w/ a however.  I told him I’m shy, I can’t make first moves.  He said that wouldn’t be a problem.  So Thursday night I was lucky enough to be able to get to sleep at a decent time, but I remained nervous and anxious thru out the night and into Friday….All the way until he was here.   And then I was okay, but a little nervous wondering if he’d actually want to go thru w/ it.

He did I found out about an hour or so after he was here.  But prior to that,  we were bullshitting.  Except he finally told me when he came to think of me in a sexual nature.  He said it’s because I spoke of sex w/ him.  I was a little shocked, because well – - – we talked about sex often . . . And at work, at that.   I guess he never really thought that I wouldn’t mind doing things of a sexual nature w/ him.   I guess our talks of sex had to be one on one, w/ nobody else around for him to grasp that  what I was always saying to him, was something I’d like to do w/ him.  (Don’t know if that made sense, but it does to me, I suppose.)  So anyways.  We talked about our sexual conversations and he clarified for me that he meant for him traditional sex was too emotionally/feelings involved for him.  (I’m wondering if the only sex he ever had was when he was in relationships?)  So he understands me, that I can have sex w/out getting attached.  

So the lights are blazing as we’re sitting around the table and he finally realizes that the light above is flickering and has been for quite some time.  So I turn it off and proceed to turn on the other light I always use.  He stands up and just walks around for a minute and then looks at me as I’m about to sit back down and he grabs my hand.   He says, “Well, since I have to make the  first move, I’m doing it.”  Ok……………*Internal screaming here*  He walked me into my bedroom, said the light coming from the living room was enough to see by and told me to take off my clothes.  I did that, he took off some of  his.  Told me to prop myself up on the bed…. He gets on the bed w/ me.  I spread my legs and the next thing I know his fingers are spreading my pussy lips.   Then I feel his tongue. 

And what a nice fucking tongue he has!  And such nice fucking fingers too!  And a dirty mouth!  All quite wonderful things!   And I even happen to like his cock.  Altho, I didn’t really get to suck on it, nor did I get to touch it the way I really want to.  But I did get to suck on his balls and swallow his come. 

I don’t really know exactly how long he was eating and fingering me but  I do know it was for over an hour and a half.  And my pussy knows it too because I have that slightly sore feeling down there.  And every time I feel that slightly sore feeling, I smile.  

He said he’d be back the next day and he’d bring along a vibrator.  He never called but I did get an email giving his excuse of having to take his daughter somewhere and then picking her up.  He didn’t say when he’d be able to come over next.  I get the feeling he won’t be over again and I’m not heartbroken or upset about it.  In fact, I kind of feel that’s how it was going to be anyways.   I don’t think I mind.  I had my fun, not complete fun, but I got to find out what it feels like to run my fingers thru his hair.  What his mouth feels like on my pussy and my legs.  What his cock looks like and his come tastes like.  I guess I got almost everything I was lusting after.  So in a way, I’ m satisfied. 

Dear Lord in Heaven, I’m Going to Hell

I asked a random question of the One I Crave because I knew he’d give me the answer I wanted, and also because he’s not the jealous sort.  Is it wrong to want to fuck a married man, who is a co-worker and old enough to be my dad?   His answer: If it feels good, do it!  Amen! (<—that’s mine!)

So for the past weekend and a half, the Older Man (OM) and I have been emailing each other at our home addresses.  Sometimes we’re spot on and can get a few emails to each other in an hour.  Other times, we miss each other and it’s here and there, kinda frustrating.  I usually want a response back quickly to what I have to say.  I want immediate gratification.  But I’m willing to wait, because sometimes it’s nice to have a smile on my face at random hours of the day because of him. 

It’s strange to be emailing him at his home.  Especially since he has to share the computer w/ his wife and daughter.   I kinda wish he’d get a messenger service, it would be so much easier to talk to him then.  But do I really want it to be that easy?  I keep thinking bad things would happen then.  His wife would get that feeling and put a spy ware thingy on the computer. . . I just don’t need that.

But at the same time, I keep thinking that maybe that link I gave him to give to his wife is making her think.  Making her think of: polyamory.  Because well, they did go to Jamacia.  And she was doing some looking, that I hear.  And it was permissible.  Too bad he didn’t tell me if he actually let her participate, cuz that would make everything that’s been going on for the past week and a half so much easier on me.  Especially last night’s conversation. 

Two hours just to pretty much say in way too many words: I want to fuck you!  The only thing actually keeping me from taking him serious is the fact that fucking was never alluded to.  Fucking, the word, was never used. It was just plain tongue lashings, ass spanking, and some hair pulling.   And he managed to slip in there (no pun intended)  that he has (had) a hard dick.

Yes, I mentioned that touching a hard dick makes my pussy do the tingle.  Granted the one and only time that ever happened was w/ the One I Crave. But he didn’t need to know that.  But I did mention that kissing, having my fingers sucked on, and my neck being bitten has that same effect. . . Too bad he just latched onto the one that has only happened once.  But my god.  I see in pink neon flashing lights: “Wellll, I have a hard dick…:-)”  Blink Blink Blinkity Blink.   And I get a huge grin on my face.  How could I not?   

Today at work. . . The first time we talked in the morning, my face was burning. Bright red.  (Like he was telling me last night how my ass would be.)   My god, I was embarrassed.  Then as the day progressed, I got better.  I could look him in the eye and we could hold our usual conversations.  But we did mention some things spoken about last night.  And I put on my little smirk of, “If only.”

I feel guilty.  I feel like I should be going to hell.  But at the same time, I’m going to hell w/ a smile on my face.  Even if the fucking never happens, well, I’ll still be smiling cuz this is all great.  I just can’t believe he’s doing this.  His wife at home.  His daughter  sleeping.   (Oh and that random midafternoon email.)  And yet, I don’t feel guilty.  I’ve done it before.  I’ve fucked other married men.  No care or thought towards his  family.  My only concern was having a dick inside me.   And . . . . I’m not the one who’s cheating.  I guess that’s how I can rationalize this. 

So maybe, just maybe. . . .

No Sex for Me

I’ll get back to personality after this:

I moved this past weekend, with the help of a male friend from work, who I’ll call A,  my dad, mom, & brother.   (I thought my brother would be working, come to find out he quit or got fired – which is why I asked A.)  Anyways, the moving day did not start off well.  First, I had to go to work.  Second, on the way home to move A decided he wasn’t actually going to pay full attention to how he was driving, and plowed into my back-end.  The sound it made was horrendous.  But little damage was done, just some chipped paint.  Either way, I was okay w/ my baby being hit, and I made A aware of this.  Told him not to dwell on it.  Well, he did, and probably still is 5 days later.

Anyways, A decided to start tearing down my water-bed frame while we waited on my dad to get ready.  In the process of doing this, I told him that the headboard needed to come down first since it is heavy.  He didn’t listen.  Instead, he took off the one side, took off the bottom, and took off the other side.  The headboard comes crashing down.  Well, ok, I caught one side of it, but still, the other side *crashed* down!   That actually pissed me off.  And so I started moving things and got away from him. 

See, A has issues.  He’s taking medication for them.  But I found out he took himself off of his medication for the past week.  Which is not good.  He’s a little anxious.  He dwells, etc.   So, he’s constantly go, go, go.  This part of his personality bothers me.  I can’t handle it.  It’s annoying and just overall frustrating.  Ok, more annoying than anything.

Anyways, my point in this is somewhere.  Somewhere being, I could never, in a million years be in a relationship w/ a man like this.  If I say something, I want to be heard.  I don’t want to have to worry about his mental welfare. I don’t want to have to worry about my physical possessions.   Listen to me!!!

Another point.  All my friends seem to think A and I would be perfect together.  Since, mostly, we already have that  Been-Married-For-50-Years friendship.  We fight, we laugh, we talk, we don’t.  Like we’ve been married for 50 years.   But there’s a reason, maybe two, why we haven’t given an actual boyfriend/girlfriend relationship a chance.  His: because he doesn’t want to ruin another friendship. Mine: he doesn’t have sex.

Yes, he doesn’t have sex.  He is a born again christian, which goes against everything I believe in.  I believe I should be able to try the milk before I buy the cow.  I believe if the sex isn’t good, the relationship won’t last.  I believe if my needs can’t be met experimentally, at least, there’s no chance.  

I know this guy, I feel it deep down in my bones, he would never go for what I have in mind.  He would never tie me up. He would never spank me like he means it.  He would never wrap his hand around my throat.  He would never bite me.  He would never pull my hair.  He would never paddle me.  He would just never take charge.  I can only see him doing it missionary.  Possibly even doggy style.  And of course, every mans’ dream: girl on top.  But not how I want it.  Not what will turn me and turn me loose. 

Nobody . . . .well, nobody that actually knows me, thinks he’ll just turn his nose up at my suggestions.  They all think that given half the chance, I could probably get him to have sex before getting married. That I could get him to do kinky, freaky things w/ me.   But I know A, I know him so well, it’s not going to happen. 

This is why I can not be w/ him.  It’s actually first and foremost.  Way beyong his mental instability. Way beyond his need to do everything for everybody.  (He’s not needy tho, do not confuse or blur that line.)   But at the same time, I don’t want to have to deal w/ the way he is on a daily basis.  During work is enough for me.

But yet, nobody seems to understand.

It’s That Rape Thing, Again

The one guy, Eagles, that I wrote about in a previous blog has mentioned violating me.  Raping me.  And he said it jokingly. If only he knew.

We were talking late last night online and well, I was tired so I kind of went along w/ all he was saying.  And he mentioned, once again, he might rape me.  (That is, if what I told him prior conversations months ago, doesn’t stand now.)

He said we’ll get the niceities out of the way and then he’s taking me.  I asked him where he’s  taking me. 

“Eagles”:  I’m taking you over the tip of my cock straight down to my balls.

Ok, I’ll admit, that sent a tingle to my pussy.

I love it when a guy talks dirty to me.  Tells me what he wants to do to me.  What he wants me to do to him.  I love it when he uses those naughty words.  Like cock, dick, pussy, cunt.  And definitely, definitely fuck.  Oh how I love that word.

And w/ Eagles, rape is fast becoming a favorite.  (Hmmm, whoever would have thought?)

I think it’s funny that he keeps bringing up that word. And I’m not sure if he’s noticed that I haven’t said yay or nay to it.  Well, I guess if it’s rape, there really isn’t an answer I can give him.  He can only worry if his actions would land him in jail, or I’ll ask him for more.  But really, once you’ve been “raped” can you be raped again?  I think after the first time, there’s only being forceful. 

And he does seem to have a very dominant bone in his body.  Considering he wants to take me.  And I have no say in this.  But I did tell him once, before he became a damn wuss, that as soon as he walked in my door, he could strip me of my clothes and fuck the hell out of me.   I made him that promise.  But w/ what all happened, well. . . . do I still want him to do that?  I think I might just tell him no and see if he really will rape me. 

I think if he does, I just might have to kiss his feet!

Controlled, But Too Much

A few years back I had this X. He was short (5’7″.)  He was mainly Italian.  He was older, but not by much.  His age was not something to joke about.   He lived w/ his mom, dad, and sister.  His hair was thinning.  He had issues w/ his eyebrows.   He lived 2 hours away from me.  Yes . . .  I met him on the internet, in a chatroom.  He was the one who started our conversing. He was the one who picked me.

Our relationship started sometime in the beginning March.  He had me professing love by the middle of the month.  Altho at the time, I only “liked him more than I should have.”  But he wanted to hear those 3 words.  So I told him.  It wasn’t that hard.  It was pretty easily done. And even w/out him saying it back.   And me not totally meaning it, at all.

We were talking on the phone.  Constantly.  I don’t remember a minute we weren’t on the phone if I wasn’t w/ him or at work.  And even then I was using work’s dime to phone him for an hour here and there.  Which, I do feel bad about.  I thought I had a good long distance phone plan.  5 cents a minute.  Not shabby.  (Not what I ended up thinking in the end. Er, middle.)   Sometimes while we were talking he’d have to go to the bathroom or get a drink.  Instead of hanging up, cuz I thought it wouldn’t take more than 5 minutes, he’d set the phone down and do his thing.  This one time.  Oh, this one time, he left me sitting on the phone for 30 minutes waiting for him.  He said he got to talking w/ his sister.  Hmmm, must have forgotten about me.  I did mention, this was on my phone plan.  MY. PHONE. PLAN.  Not his.  If he called me, it was to tell me to call him back.  Because he was jobless at the moment and couldn’t afford to pay for LD.

I got directions to his house. Sorry, his parents’ house.  Which I wasn’t allowed to go to if his family was there.  I did say he lived 2 hours from me, right?  I only was there twice.  Met his mom, once . . . by accident, for a passing minute.   All the other times I was w/ him, it was at a hotel.  For the weekend.  Sometimes long weekends, if he made the request of me.  Or maybe I should demand of me.  And I paid for it.  It had to have a frig in it.  And it had to be an end unit.  I had to pay for it!  Oh . . . and I had to pay for the food. That we got delivered, twice a day.  And I had to buy him a carton of cigarettes.  Each Time!

You are noticing how much money I’m shelling out, right? And you are realizing, it’s not because I wanted to, but because HE. MADE. ME. DO. IT.  

This was his way of making sure I was his.  This was what he needed to make me know I was his.  There was no ignoring it, I was his.  As long as he told me what to do, when to do, and who to do it w/.

Oh, did I mention I had to change my email account.  Not just change it, but cancel it and start another one.  To his specifications.  And I had to change my phone number.  And the only person who was allowed to have it was him.  And he grudgingly let me give it to my family.

Did I mention . . . . I went along w/ all of this?

Yes, I did.  And I did it, because I thought I deserved it.  I went nights months w/out sleep.  I stopped paying my bills.  I started smoking 2 packs a day.  I drove to him.  I listened to what he had to say about his ex . . .

His ex was perfect.  And from Colorado, or somewhere out midwest.  She had the most perfect boobs.  They were big, but there was no sag. They were perky.

I have a friend who has a nice, BIG dick.   Bigger than his.  And I told him that.  Because he asked.  We broke up.   For about 2 hours.  We got back together because I cried and begged.   (My friend still has the bigger dick! So pppfffffttttt!)

I didn’t mention it, but he wouldn’t come visit me.  In the beginning it was because he would never lower himself to be seen where I live.  Then it was because he didn’t have a car, because he had some mad-mom-in-a-minivan hit him.  (He got put on Oxycodone.   He loved them. I didn’t.  Worse woozy feeling ever, but w/ a dull pain behind it.  No thanks.)

This is just the icing.  This is what I didn’t like about him.  This is the controlling part I abhor when I look back on it.   I ran up a $3000+ phone bill on him for 6 months.  I bought him a $250 air conditioner.  Plus some football paraphernalia.  I paid for motel rooms at $60 a night, I bought food at $25-30 a meal. I bought him $25 cartons of cigs.  I paid gas money, tolls, oil changes, etc.  I even got cable TV so we could watch shows together.  All in all, I wish I never got w/ him, he wasn’t worth the monetary value.

. . . to be continued . . .

Anonymous Rendezvous

I have a place I need to be at a certain time. I need to be at the hotel to meet you. Altho I don’t know you, not your name, what you look like, where you’re from, or your age (altho you have assured me you are legal,) I trust you. The reason I trust you: you’re making a fantasy come true. We’ve only talked a few times in the chatrooms, but in that time, I figured “What the hell?” You’re a stranger, you’re not going to judge me. You’re feeling adventureous just like me. You appreciate my forwardness.I tell you I want to meet you at a hotel. I want you to be there waiting for me. In the dark. No lights on, no blinds or curtains open. I want you to get a feel for the room in the dark, so you can guide me. So you can set me where you like and do what you like. We’ve discussed that there is no talking, our mouths can not even form whispered words. The only sounds allowed are the ones that come freely of the pleasure being had.

There are no other rules.

 This has been a fantasy of mine now for over 10 years.  Ever since the internet came into my life.  Ever since I talked to an out of state business man who had come here for work, who found me, who suggested something like this.  If it weren’t for him, I doubt I’d ever have thought of having complete anonymous sex.   

I’ve even gone one step farther and had the Stranger become someone I know.  Altho the person may know me, I don’t know that it’s him.  He uses a different name, maybe.  He tells me he’s from out of state, but only truly lives 10 miles from me, if that, maybe.    And maybe the rules have changed….Maybe it’s just that I don’t know it’s him on the internet, but when I go to the hotel room, it’s lit up and I see his face.  Or we keep the lights off and he talks to me.   The only question remaining, once I know it’s him, will I take the chance?

I’m in lust w/  the idea of having a secret rendezvous w/ a stranger. 

A Fantasy Called Rape

I rented Irreversible from Netflix this past week.   I got it for the rape scene.  I heard it was unspeakably violent.  Very brutal.   Etc. Etc. Etc.

For any of you who don’t know, this movie is done in reverse order.  (Hmmm….) It shows the revenge for the girlfriend who was raped.  And it’s not a true revenge.  The rapist’s friend is the one who ends up w/ his face literally beaten to a bloody pulp.  Literally!   And in the middle is the so called brutal rape scene.     Yes, after shaking my head and calling the beginning of the movie stupid, stupid, stupid, then being horribly horrified over the fire extinguisher not-so-much-a-revenge, I fast forwarded it to the rape scene.  

I was unimpressed.  I was disappointed.  I was let down.   Ok, so to me, the only thing brutal about the rape was what happened afterward – having her head bashed in.   And all because she was trying to get away from him.   And she was a pretty rich chick.  And he was just sadistic.  Eh. 

I have a rape fantasy.  I’ve had the fantasy in my head ever since middle school.  I use to take walks at night, up and down the street I live on and think, “What if a guy were to jump out right now and try to rape me?”  My ready answer always was, “I’d let him.  You can’t rape the willing.”   The reasons for that kind of answer was, I was behind the times on losing my virginity.  And I thought that being raped was the only way I’d get laid.   (Can you really call getting raped getting laid?!)

So anyways, since I’ve grown up, since I’ve lost my virginity, since I’ve gotten laid,  I still have the rape fantasy.    Maybe it’s because I’d be helpless.  I’d be forced.  I’d …. oh, I don’t know.   I can’t imagine myself screaming for help.  I can’t see myself fighting him off.  All I see is me just laying there taking it.   (Like a good girl!)  

I never told any of my lovers or boyfriends that I wanted to be raped.  Except for ”Fucker,” (and he’s not a boyfriend nor a lover) he knows, but he refused to do it, since he had a girlfriend who was  raped in his own house by his own friend.   But he did offer to have one of his friends rape me.   How chivalrous.  But I guess the reason I never told any of them, I just didn’t want to have to deal w/ their pathetic attempts.  And I didn’t want them to think I was mental, or something.    I accused my X of trying to rape me once and he got the biggest puppy-dog-pouty-you-hurt-my-feelings look.  I wish he would have said he was………….And I would have let him.  Altho, he doesn’t know that, nor will he ever. 

Maybe one of these days I’ll be more specific.

Scarves, Ties, & Leather Restraints

I don’t know what it is, but I want to be tied up. I want to be blindfolded. I want to be spreadeagle on a bondage contraption my friend built.  Leopard print, red paint, and leather buckle restraints.  All bolted down to the floor, and the ceiling.  But it’s not going to happen … at least any time soon.  Well, probably never w/ my luck.

I started talking to a guy a few years ago.  Then he disappeared, only to reappear last year sometime.  This time when we started talking I learned more about him.  Or I re-learned about him what I had forgotten.   He has a dominant streak. He’s into bondage. He is the fucker, not the fuckee.  And my god, how I adore that!   He said he’s not really into control.  But I think that anyone who is dominant and into bondage has some kind of control issues.  Well, not necessarily issues, but wants/needs.  I seriously have no issue w/ a guy who has control wants/needs.  I actually appreciate it.  Very much.  

I’d like to show my appreciation.  I’d like to show it very much.  But I can’t.  Not because I don’t talk to him anymore, but because I’m afraid.  It’s strange how I can adore a man who is willing to take charge.  And by taking charge, I mean it literally, not someone who is *pretending* to be the forceful, dominant one.  I love that he needs to be the fucker.  I want him to be the fucker.  And I’m afraid of letting go.  I’m afraid to be submissive to someone.  Probably because I have a dominant streak in me.   (Or maybe it’s just a mean streak?  Hahaha!)

Maybe my definitions of D/s isn’t exactly the Merriam-Webster version, but it works for me.   Maybe I’d like to be a switch, but I know w/ this guy, it’s not a possibility.   Maybe that’s what scares me….. And that’s probably why I stopped talking to him this time, not him not talking to me.  Actually I know why I quit talking to him.

I didn’t want to get attached.  Cuz then I’d definitely feel put upon to act the way he wants me to.  And I’d like it.  I’d like it too much.   And then things would go bad and I’d find myself  posted on the internet.  (Ok, that’s just my worst nightmare talking.)   I could love this guy.  Yet, he just doesn’t seem like that kind of “lovable” guy type tho, he seems singular.  Nomadic in his relationships.  However, he’s had long term relationships.   That, I guess, gives me hope, but not much. 

In the end, it just comes to this: he’s the kind of guy I crave. 

Annoyance Keep Coming Back

I’ve had numerous men in my life that seem to come and go.   And come and go.  And they all want one thing.   To start off where they left me.  More than anything I hate that, w/ the exception of one.   *ONE*   All the others, they can go to hell.  This includes and is not limited to: the X, the fuck buddy, Eagles, and Doug.

If any of these guys had the balls I thought they had, they would never have bothered to start talking to me in the first place.   But they had some balls.  And now they think they’ve grown bigger balls.

My X called me tonight, after I foolishly gave him my phone number.  And I knew what it would lead to.  I even said no, a few times, until I gave in.  And he said he couldn’t promise to behave, which I totally believe him, because every time he couldn’t control himself around me.  Sick and tired of being someone’s fucktoy when I don’t admire, trust, or respect them.

The fuck buddy is still going strong on the phone calls.   Every Saturday night around 9pm.  Yep, I know it’s coming. And yep, I ignore him. 

Eagles is a whole other matter. And manner.  He’s one I’ve never even came in physical contact w/ because he was too busy spouting off senseless shit and toying w/ me. Plus, he said he has manned up since then.  So I guess that makes him manless when we talked earlier?  Back when I first started talking to him, I liked him well enough.  Well enough to send him some videos (not necessarily of me being bad, but of me saying bad things,) and well enough to make a promise to him.  As far as I’m concerned, that promise became null and void when he became a total pussy.    And I told him about it.  And he said he changed.  He started dating someone else. And that someone else he met, just like he met me.  He gave her a chance…..What the hell was so different about me?  I’m not the one harrassing him now that he’s broken it off w/ me.  I’m not the one trying to make his life a hell.   Hmmmm, maybe he should have thought things thru a little more thoroughly?  Either way, I’ve told him it can’t be the way it was, not after he lied so blatantly.  (This was the first time he came back into my life.)  Now, I’ve got him blocked because the 2nd time he came back, he now thinks that since I’ve seen a picture of him, that I’ll desire him more.  Not so.  He may like my body type, but I don’t like his face.  And if I don’t like a persons face, you can pretty much forget it.  He’s not my type.   Plus, he thinks that since I’ve seen his face that he’ll be getting more pictures from me, more videos.  With him only giving pics in return.   I don’t see how this is fair.  I believe in fairness.   It is NOT fair.

Now Doug.  I’ve met him, he’s lied to me also.  And now he wants to come over and show me his tattoo.  One I’ve already seen.  One that hasn’t changed since I’ve seen him.  And it’s been 2 years.  Not much to seduce me into giving him another BJ for his short fucking dick!   Maybe if he had one of size, I’d have considered checking out his tattoo again, but I don’t think so.   And then he disappeared after I said no.  Imagine that.

Out of these 4 guys, 3 of them have lied to me.  Yet that doesn’t deterred them from trying to start something I will no way in hell let them finish.  But it gives me joy in toying w/ them.   It gives me great joy to see how far I can make them go to get what they want, so I can tell them, to their face, “You’re not man enough for me!”