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Thursday, November 29, 2007

Whipped

Rick was telling me about his day as I flopped down on the bed, half way listening to what he was saying as I stared out the window, watching the last leaf trying desperately to fall off of the big tree in the side yard.

He was getting undressed to climb into the shower before he had to dash out again. When he slid off his belt, he folded it over and clapped it, making that delicious leather slap noise. I closed my eyes, and then felt a slight sting as he whipped my ass with his belt.

I think he expected me to protest.

I didn't.

He did it again. This time, just a little bit harder. A pause as he expected me to whine or perhaps even jump up and playfully slap him.

Nothing. I enjoyed it.

He didn't have time to play, so he chuckled as he started up the shower and I was left lying on the bed, slight heat and stinging on my bottom flesh as I closed my eyes and finished off the fantasy in my head.

He has this nasty habit of starting things up and leaving them unfinished that drives me crazy. Not good crazy. Irritated crazy.

When he stepped out of the shower, he had to walk past me naked to get to his dresser. I seized the moment to repay him, and took his cock deeply into my mouth, licking and sucking him, feeling him growing harder and bigger on my tongue. He had no taste, being scrubbed clean, but he felt so good in my mouth.

Using my hand on his slick shaft, I rubbed him in unison with my lips. He starting moaning and placed his hand on my head as he looked down and watched me.

And then I stopped.

"You don't have time for this do you? You have to get going." I smiled, stood up and walked out of the bedroom, happy to see the pout on his face.

When he walked out the front door, he whispered in my ear, "We have unfinished business here, we will resolve this later."

And that is exactly what I wanted to hear.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

I'm lazy, I admit it

Last year, after neglecting my blog for so long, I went through and deleted all of the dead links, and there were loads. But there were still a few of my favourites going strong, and I was happy to be able to catch up with them.

Now even most of those are dead or completely missing. I miss so many of my blogger friends, I know that we really used to have a good time on here, through commenting on each other's blogs, emails, etc.

*sigh*

Things change I suppose. I have always hated change.

I suck at updating my links, and I apologize for that. Its the HTML that makes my eyes cross and makes me wary of even messing with it, fearful that I may just muck everything up by mistake. I know, thats the lazy way out.

To my blogger friends who are still reachable and out there reading this, hello! To my new friends, and friends to be made, hello to you as well!

If I have somehow missed your new blog, if you are out there and I just don't know it, email me.

Confessions: Part 2

"Hey baby, did you miss me?"

I quickly recognize the Australian love machine, and roll my eyes beneath closed lids.

"Hey yourself, big boy! You know I missed you, Derek. I am so happy to see you again!"

I lie. I hate Derek. There are so few of my men that I hate, but Derek is one of them.

"Yeah, I bet you did, bitch. You got cobwebs in your pussy? Been a while since you had me. Bet you're all dried up, aren't you?"

Charming as ever. I smile and pretend that he is wonderful.

"Oh no, of course not, baby! You make me so hot and wet just thinking of you, I could never dry up! I have to play with myself all the time when you aren't here, because I get so horny thinking of your big, huge cock!"

"Get naked."

Derek likes to play very rough, and often likes to wrap his hand tightly around my throat, choking me as he fucks me and shoves his fingers in my ass. He likes to watch the look of fear, as you wonder whether or not he will go too far and actually strangle you. He chuckles and gets off on the thought.

"Gag on my cock, bitch."

He shoves his cock deeply into my mouth and grips tightly at my ears and hair, fucking my face like some cheap sex toy, tears filling my eyes as I gag on him. This is what he wants.

"I'm going to cum on your face."

He pulls out and covers my face with his squirts, hitting my eye, making it burn before he slaps my cheek, coating his hand with his sperm that he quickly wipes in my hair, using me as his towel. Fucking, or rather, being fucked by Derek is like getting raped, and the more horrified that I am, the more and the quicker he gets off. He is nasty and abusive. He was arrested for beating his wife so badly that she ended up in hospital for days. He pretends to be remorseful about it, but I know better. I wonder if she hates him as much as I do.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Its funny

I woke up on Wednesday morning, remembering a very vivid dream. In my dream, I was of all things, blogging. I woke up missing this blog, feeling bad for having been so neglectful, for losing touch with my blogger friends.

And so I blogged. :)

What I find funny, is after I made my post and was glancing at my blog, I noticed that the last entry was dated November 21, 2006. That was exactly one year to the day. Eerie, yeah?

To T and runr53, a great big hug and juicy kiss for making this girl smile and feel good. Its nice to be remembered. Love you guys.

xoxo

ps

Look for the next installment to Confessions on Wednesday, or as I have always liked to call it, Hump Day. :)

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Confessions : Part 1

I sit comfortably in my big, over sized chair, tucked away in the corner of my bedroom, and I wait. Grocery list, errands to be run, dinner menu, kids schedules all running through my mind when I get called to duty. I take a quick sip of water and prepare to perform.

"Hi babes, names Simon, 43. Looking for a good time, can you help?"

Nothing at all distinguishes this man from any other, right down to the cheesy pick up line. He has already bored me, but he will never know that.

"Well hello there, Simon, sweetheart! Goodness, you do sound like quite a naughty boy! I like to think that I can help you out, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself, love?"

I already know whats coming. A dramatized description of his humongous penis, so big he doesn't know if I will be able to take it all. He'll tell me that he looks just like Brad Pitt, when we both know that he looks more like the creepy guy on the bus that stares at you entirely too long before shooting you his "sexy" snaggle-toothed-come-hither grin.

Its not long at all before I am his obedient little whore, telling him how good his cock feels deep inside my pussy. Inevitably, he'll want to flip me over and fuck my ass, hard and strong, before he comes all over my face. I tell him how yummy his cream is, and what an amazing fuck he is.

"Hunni, I love you so much. xx", he says.

I don't know why they always feel compelled to tell me that. Whether its just habit, guilty conscience or perhaps in their own little world, they actually do believe that. I know that some of them do. I become their daily addiction. For whatever reason the world has cheated them out of a lover and a soul mate, and they fill that void with me. Part of me feels flattered, while the other part wishes they would wake up and move on. I never let that part of me show though, because I need them as much as they need me.

I cringe when they tell me how much they have spent on me. I know that they need that money for rent, food, and in some cases their families. Every once in a while, my heart bleeds through and I tell them to take a break, to come back to me when their funds allow. I tell them that I will always be there when they need me, and beg them to be careful with their money. But they never listen. They just come back to me that much more often. Deeper both in love and in debt.

Its hard not to feel close to some of the men. The regulars. They share every aspect of their life with you, their joys and their pains. With every tear I kiss away, it becomes harder to push them out of my thoughts when they leave. I wonder if they are still mourning the loss of their loved one, or the end of their marriage. I find myself genuinely hoping that they get through the pain quickly and with no scars. When they share good news with me, I smile, and I am truly happy for them. This is dangerous territory to be in.

As Simon leaves me, he promises to be back very soon. He tells me how wonderful I am and that he can't wait to spend time with me again very soon. I smile, knowing that he will return. He isn't gone but for a moment before my attentions are already focused on someone else.