I’ve no clue. Just picked-up browsing other blogs.
I am much happier now than I have been in my whole life! Now that I have accepted that I am nothing more than a brainless bimbo who needs to please Men, I am happy! Just admitting that Men are superior puts a smile on my face! Also, I’m hornier than I…
I wish I could get back in that “space”
Hi Joshua. I was wondering where you got the sloppy blowjob scene where she is getting slapped??
Thanks for lovely submission.
Send in whatever you like, always glad to post.
Secret -Missy Higgins
I would’ve shout it aloud, broken through.
I would’ve given it all to belong to you.
But there were different plans, different rules.
"…you got a secret…don’t yuh babe…?"
I need twine, rubber-bands, a fork, needles, assorted clamps and chain, Lindt chocolates, and…the entire weekend.
I never knew how to live my life. It never occurred to me a man was missing, a man who owned me as one owns a thing.
As a girl I felt lost, alone, and boys simply angered me. I was drawn to men I saw on the street (rather than my age contemporaries) and was most interested when an older boy flirted. I wondered if I were a lesbian, I was so miserably confused. I recall feeling depressed, lethargic where relationships were concerned.
When I began fucking, it was simply that. No orgasms, no pleasure to sweep me up and get so wonderfully lost in, No surrendering to desire, to feeling love, this was all stolen from me. Being with a man was an hour of trying to understand what I was doing wrong, certain I was somehow broken and an emptiness I can’t begin to explain.
I was about nineteen away at university when I sought out a female professor I admired. It took all the courage I could summon to tell her about my emotional and sexual issues, and finally cried explaining I was a freak. After about thirty minutes listening and asking questions, she walked me to the building housing university counseling, and set an appointment with a counselor she knew, regarded highly. and hoped it would help a great deal.
I spent a lot of time “processing” and experimenting. I knew I was attractive. I used the gym regularly to stay fit and relieve stress. I’m just shy of 5’8”, and have large breasts (32D), and really long, pretty chestnut toned hair. Interestingly, while being sexual left me blank, being hit on drew a better response. It wasn’t the appreciation of the attention, rather, the cruder the comments, the more I felt something stir inside. At a football game, a guy too filled with beer, was saying stuff to me like, “you’d be fine fuck-meat bitch”, or “I could really fuck those sweet tits-up…you need that?”, made me a bit wet and feel a stirring which was alien to me. I was excited when I told Elaine. Something to talk about! I was devastated when she decided my arousal was “self-punishment” for feeling so inadequate. What?
Feeling desperate, I asked around until I found the boy who made those comments to me at the game. He was a senior and didn’t have a girl friend. I sat down opposite him in the huge cafeteria, ignoring the other seven or eight people he was with. “Remember me from the football game?”. “Don’t think I do…but we can fix that sweetheart…”. “Yeah, you told me you’d be good at fucking my tits-up…think you can?”
He looked at me a moment or two as though I were crazy. “Hey, I didn’t mean to insult you girl…I was drunk. You come here to embarrass me?” I was in shock. Here was an open, salacious invitation…and he didn’t get that? “Hey, I’m serious, you up for this Friday night?” He looked around his friends and seemed uncomfortable. “Hell yeah I’m up for Friday night girl, I’m up for anything…”. And he laughed in a mulish fashion. Regardless, I slipped him my number and left to whistles and comments.
Friday night I dressed like a slut, and that felt wonderful. Little skirt, tank top and no bra, with lots of heavy make-up. I borrowed a pair of ‘come-fuck-me-shoes’ heels from a friend.
I took bunches of selfies before he came and I could not believe I thought I would almost fuck myself. And…I was damp with anticipation about being “worked over”.
We saw a film at Tech Hall, and went right back to his apartment. He began taking the few things I was wearing off and I felt wild with anticipation. We made love…or he made love to my body. There was nothing more or less than any other time a guy took me sexually. I couldn’t stop tears of disappointment. He asked over and over what was wrong, finally simply left.
Just before graduation, I went for a long walk around campus, and veered into town for a drink. Sitting at the bar nursing a Margarita, a man sat down next to me. He wasn’t college age, in fact I guessed him to be in his late thirties. “Hello”, he offered, and I groaned and turned away. “Well that’s not very friendly of you”. I turned back to him. He had rather pedestrian looks, a great voice, and oddly wasn’t drunk. “Go fuck yourself”, I suggested. He looked at me and his smile vanished. “What did I do to deserve that”. “Nothing as a matter of fact, you’re a jag-off, now beat it you pathetic skank…”. I was in a mood. “Man…are you a first-rate cunt”, he said low and with real contempt in his voice. I stood, sent the remainder of my Margarita into his face, and smiled saying, “Just fuck off”.
He slapped me, hard. Like chicks slap a guy for whatever reason. I was in shock from the blow. He stood, and disappeared into the men’s room. There were some mean words thrown my way and I couldn’t hear one. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t angrier, I’m very good at ‘angry’. I sat in place and asked for my tab. He came out with most of my Margarita gone from his shirt, but his khaki slacks were ruined. He walked by me headed straight for the door. Not one word.
"…that’s alright. But we’re going for a look. Loose the bra…"
"…seriously…my tits naked just hanging here for everybody to see…?"
We are time’s subjects, and time bids be gone.
"…this is my cunt…hot & aching, sloppy wet, my bitches cunt…this mine…?”
When she needs you to use her however you choose…and excites her more than anything she can remember…and love is strong on both sides, there is more intimacy, bond, and honesty than most have.