I got this phone call when I was sixteen. Undoubtedly some horny loser of a guy, but I remember it. I was young when I was sixteen. Younger than you'd think. Younger than I should have been. And naive. And so inexperienced I was still just a child.
But this phone call...why do I remember it? Because it was somewhat of a first for me. A...well, not awakening, more of an alert to what was already going on. With me. With my body.
It was a wrong number. And I don't really remember any of the conversation, only that it turned me on-though I wouldn't have known the term then-and that it lasted for a couple of hours. I remember he claimed to be a photographer. I have no clue as to the validity of his claim, but it led to a very interesting discussion. Vague impressions of hands all over me and a throbbing between my legs and suggestions of semi-nude pictures. And one very strong impression-and I have no idea why THIS detail of all things has stuck with me for so long-of a...hell, I don't know any other term for it than "butt massage".
Back then I didn't know terms like "horny" or "turned on" or even "missionary and reverse missionary". But that's what I was. Horny. Turned on. Fucking hot. And eager. Very eager.
Nothing came of it, but that's about when I became obsessed with sex. Yes, I'd had some "experiences" earlier in life-two of note would be when I was eight (some light sex play with my sibling-and I can't believe I just shared that publicly, it's like my most closely guarded secret-not to mention embarrassing as all hell/and when I was about twelve-at youth church camp no less-swimming in the pool and coming across those air release things and rubbing my crotch against it-but those were just curiousity things. Well, now that I think about it, maybe my 'interest' in sex came from the twelve-year-old thing and my 'obsession' came from the sixteen-year-old thing. Doesn't really matter either way.
So now I'm still obsessed with it. Why? I like to fuck. I just do. And when I get horny I expect to find someone to help me take care of it. And there have been plenty of willing guys over the years. Even now I have a fuckbuddy. And a...bizarre encounter buddy.
So what's wrong? I'm horny as hell, I can't really masturbate, and my fuckbuddy has to get up early in the morning. *sigh* I don't like delayed gratification. I'm horny NOW goddammit.
Okay, that's the end of that lovely segment of today's superfluous rant. On to the next segment, CHARGE!
I have these...fantasies. Of being dominated. Completely. I wanted that with Raven, but it won't happen. At least I don't think it will. He allowed me too much control over him right from the outset. I don't respect him as a Dom. I love him-for some strange, fucked up reason that I couldn't even BEGIN to guess at-but obey him? Why should I when I had him wrapped around my little finger? Why should I when I know I can get away with anything?
And now there's this guy. The one from Wednesday, remember? He commands. He commands my attention by commanding me. I went over to his place again on Thursday, and he had me do things. Only to please him. And I did please him, and it was awesome. And the best part was that he told me I did really good. And that if I continue to do really good, I'll get what I want-which is to fuck him. No, to have him fuck me. Why? He commands. He orders. He says I obey well. He lets me please him, and lets me know that I'm pleasing him. He knows to tell me what to do, not to ask. If he ever asked-anything-I would refuse. But he doesn't. When we talk online he says "call me" and when I ask why I get the response of "when I want you to call, I'll tell you to call". When I tell him I want him to fuck me he says "that's up to me, not you". When I do something only half-assed, he says "I didn't tell you to act like a fucking child, now DO it". He's had me on my knees, his cock in my mouth. I don't even think of stopping when I'm in pain, and when he tells me that he expect me to swallow every drop, I do so without thinking, without complaint. He holds my hair back and has me look at him while I'm sucking his dick. He makes me look him in the eyes, though he knows how uncomfortable I am with that. I am rewarded with praise and promises of future contact. At one point on Thursday I wanted to ask him if he knew what he did to me. If he knew how hot he makes me, if he knew how much I enjoy myself with him. I wanted to ask him if he knew that I'd do anything he told me to. ANYTHING. And not just then, not just relating to the bedroom. If he knew that I could be completely his, his whore, his concubine, his slave. And all he'd have to do is tell me to. All he'd have to do is let me know he wanted it. Even if he didn't have any emotional attachment to me at all. Even if he ordered me not to have emotional attachment to him. I just WANT that. The domination, the control. And all he'd have to do is say the word.
Of course, I mentioned something about him not being safe and he asked and I said I'd rather not tell him and he didn't really PUSH it but made it clear that he wanted to know and would be disappointed if I didn't tell him and I blabbed about the whole worried about emotional attachment to him and even though we still got together that night he's been avoiding me ever since. Ah, well.
I don't have emotional attachment to him. I have an addiction for him right now. And I don't know if I'd develop one for him. I DO know that the potential is there.
But I still have weird little fantasies about Raven. Well, maybe not exactly fantasies, but interesting little scenarios that play through my mind and I'm not really sure I'd like or not. Like him crawling through my window and beating me and hurting me and calling me a bitch and telling me I'm his and he won't let me go and...I dunno. Making sure I know that I belong to him? Making sure I know that I fucked up and he's not going to stand for it? Of course, if that happened right now I might just laugh in his face. Not that it would stop him from kicking the shit outta me, but at least we'd both know I'm only physically dominated by him and hell, me as weak as I am, anyone could do THAT. On the other hand...maybe I'd submit completely. Maybe I'd be his as totally as I want to be.
Ah, this is long winded enough. And just talking about the guy...my body shivers and I'm going to have to change my panties because of the juices of even thinking about it.
So I'm going to bed. Because I'm tired. And horny as FUCK. And not able to do anything about it.
Laters
But this phone call...why do I remember it? Because it was somewhat of a first for me. A...well, not awakening, more of an alert to what was already going on. With me. With my body.
It was a wrong number. And I don't really remember any of the conversation, only that it turned me on-though I wouldn't have known the term then-and that it lasted for a couple of hours. I remember he claimed to be a photographer. I have no clue as to the validity of his claim, but it led to a very interesting discussion. Vague impressions of hands all over me and a throbbing between my legs and suggestions of semi-nude pictures. And one very strong impression-and I have no idea why THIS detail of all things has stuck with me for so long-of a...hell, I don't know any other term for it than "butt massage".
Back then I didn't know terms like "horny" or "turned on" or even "missionary and reverse missionary". But that's what I was. Horny. Turned on. Fucking hot. And eager. Very eager.
Nothing came of it, but that's about when I became obsessed with sex. Yes, I'd had some "experiences" earlier in life-two of note would be when I was eight (some light sex play with my sibling-and I can't believe I just shared that publicly, it's like my most closely guarded secret-not to mention embarrassing as all hell/and when I was about twelve-at youth church camp no less-swimming in the pool and coming across those air release things and rubbing my crotch against it-but those were just curiousity things. Well, now that I think about it, maybe my 'interest' in sex came from the twelve-year-old thing and my 'obsession' came from the sixteen-year-old thing. Doesn't really matter either way.
So now I'm still obsessed with it. Why? I like to fuck. I just do. And when I get horny I expect to find someone to help me take care of it. And there have been plenty of willing guys over the years. Even now I have a fuckbuddy. And a...bizarre encounter buddy.
So what's wrong? I'm horny as hell, I can't really masturbate, and my fuckbuddy has to get up early in the morning. *sigh* I don't like delayed gratification. I'm horny NOW goddammit.
Okay, that's the end of that lovely segment of today's superfluous rant. On to the next segment, CHARGE!
I have these...fantasies. Of being dominated. Completely. I wanted that with Raven, but it won't happen. At least I don't think it will. He allowed me too much control over him right from the outset. I don't respect him as a Dom. I love him-for some strange, fucked up reason that I couldn't even BEGIN to guess at-but obey him? Why should I when I had him wrapped around my little finger? Why should I when I know I can get away with anything?
And now there's this guy. The one from Wednesday, remember? He commands. He commands my attention by commanding me. I went over to his place again on Thursday, and he had me do things. Only to please him. And I did please him, and it was awesome. And the best part was that he told me I did really good. And that if I continue to do really good, I'll get what I want-which is to fuck him. No, to have him fuck me. Why? He commands. He orders. He says I obey well. He lets me please him, and lets me know that I'm pleasing him. He knows to tell me what to do, not to ask. If he ever asked-anything-I would refuse. But he doesn't. When we talk online he says "call me" and when I ask why I get the response of "when I want you to call, I'll tell you to call". When I tell him I want him to fuck me he says "that's up to me, not you". When I do something only half-assed, he says "I didn't tell you to act like a fucking child, now DO it". He's had me on my knees, his cock in my mouth. I don't even think of stopping when I'm in pain, and when he tells me that he expect me to swallow every drop, I do so without thinking, without complaint. He holds my hair back and has me look at him while I'm sucking his dick. He makes me look him in the eyes, though he knows how uncomfortable I am with that. I am rewarded with praise and promises of future contact. At one point on Thursday I wanted to ask him if he knew what he did to me. If he knew how hot he makes me, if he knew how much I enjoy myself with him. I wanted to ask him if he knew that I'd do anything he told me to. ANYTHING. And not just then, not just relating to the bedroom. If he knew that I could be completely his, his whore, his concubine, his slave. And all he'd have to do is tell me to. All he'd have to do is let me know he wanted it. Even if he didn't have any emotional attachment to me at all. Even if he ordered me not to have emotional attachment to him. I just WANT that. The domination, the control. And all he'd have to do is say the word.
Of course, I mentioned something about him not being safe and he asked and I said I'd rather not tell him and he didn't really PUSH it but made it clear that he wanted to know and would be disappointed if I didn't tell him and I blabbed about the whole worried about emotional attachment to him and even though we still got together that night he's been avoiding me ever since. Ah, well.
I don't have emotional attachment to him. I have an addiction for him right now. And I don't know if I'd develop one for him. I DO know that the potential is there.
But I still have weird little fantasies about Raven. Well, maybe not exactly fantasies, but interesting little scenarios that play through my mind and I'm not really sure I'd like or not. Like him crawling through my window and beating me and hurting me and calling me a bitch and telling me I'm his and he won't let me go and...I dunno. Making sure I know that I belong to him? Making sure I know that I fucked up and he's not going to stand for it? Of course, if that happened right now I might just laugh in his face. Not that it would stop him from kicking the shit outta me, but at least we'd both know I'm only physically dominated by him and hell, me as weak as I am, anyone could do THAT. On the other hand...maybe I'd submit completely. Maybe I'd be his as totally as I want to be.
Ah, this is long winded enough. And just talking about the guy...my body shivers and I'm going to have to change my panties because of the juices of even thinking about it.
So I'm going to bed. Because I'm tired. And horny as FUCK. And not able to do anything about it.
Laters
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