I’ve noticed that I’ve been instinctively caressing myself in the mornings during that half-sleepy transition to wakefulness. I don’t really know why, just that it makes it imperative to shower in the mornings even when I’m running late.
I’m trying to keep a level head and not run into trouble. I think I gave a couple people the wrong impression already. But gosh, I want some play time.
Anonymous said: Hi! It's me. The last pic on the aug 14 entry where the girl is getting spanked right on her pussy and asshole is so hot. No wonder you said oh my goodness. I hope your new man is becoming what you want him to be. A guy could read this blog thoroughly and know exactly how to please you. I think it would be so hot to meet a girl like you in a situation where you know the person's kinky desires and limits. YOU ARE AWESOME!!!
Thanks. I don’t have a man right now, actually. I am in a sort of limbo. I went out with someone that lives a couple hours away. We correspond sparingly, but I don’t know where that stands. As such, I consider myself single but tethered. And that guy is vanilla.
There’s someone local that I get spanked by now and then. I keep fantasizing about doing more, but I don’t want to mess up what’s already there. My worlds shouldn’t mix. Such a shame.
I may meet someone this weekend. He seems vanilla on the surface, but you never know what’s beneath. I hope there is attraction; a spark. I’m tired of being patient and I’m ready to play harder.
I spent some time away this summer. Time exploring the city, relishing cuisine, absorbing culture. It was a time of growth; it was a time of discovery. I embraced the foreign but held onto the familiar.
I saw a guy during that time. It was less than a couple weeks. We chatted a bit before meeting, and he charmed me away.
He had one rule: that I wasn’t allowed to “hold my own hands.”
The background is that I tend to fold my hands, to fidget. It’s a nervous thing, a shy thing. I fold my hands and periodically glance down at my lap. He had none of that. “If you’re going to hold someone’s hand, hold mine.”
I’m not big on holding hands. I like to curl my arm around his. Hug it like a teddy bear. I like it when guys seem cuddly like teddy bears. I guess holding hands isn’t the worst thing in the world, but it’s not my first choice.
I’m quiet; I’m reserved. He read me. One time, he was down for a while.
"If you’re getting tired, you can stop."
"Don’t you like it?"
I asked for more suction. A little nibbling. I placed his hands on my chest. I wanted aggression.
Things changed. He pinned me down more. He grabbed harder. He bit. He pushed me against the wall.
One time, I took the bus just after midnight to see him. It was pretty late so I asked him to meet me at the stop. He didn’t like that I took the bus. “Let me send a car for you.” But I wanted to take the bus. I let him send for a car in the morning, though. Tinted windows, air conditioned, leather seats. I sat alone quietly in the back on my way home. I felt like the driver was judging me. It’s ok, I was judging me too.