Did you miss me?
My hard nipples, poking into the soft fabric of my blouse? Rubbing against the fabric, straining for release, to be free, the breeze gently running across their sensitive surface. To be teased, a rough tongue gently playing over the firm surface. To be pinched, and poked. Thumb and finger gently squeezing the pink, hard flesh. Tugging them, stretching them, as a soft moan escapes my lips.
Sorry, I got a little sidetracked.
I guess that is the consequence of trying to read the writings of a girl with serious ADHD...I tend to start great, but then end up doing something else and disappear for a while.
So, what did you miss? The short skirts, the high heels, the leather and lace?
Dancing at the club, he is so close i can feel his breath on me. Who is he? I don't know, I was just dancing. We are almost touching, his eyes lingering on my low cut dress, watching my cleavage, the inner mounds of my breasts. I get lost in the beat, lost in the world, feeling the pounding, feeling the rhythm, hips swaying, feet shuffling, arms swaying to the rhythm. Primal, raw, intoxicating. I feel him touch me, but I am lost, not noticing beyond being aware, not caring. His hand brushes against my side, and I move closer, enjoying the sensation. I press myself against him, enjoying the touch as the beat entrances me. He grabs my left ass cheek, softly squeezing. A thrill runs through me, and I return the favor, grabbing his ass in turn. It is hard, muscled, feels good in my hand. I bring my lips up, facing him, eyes closed as a revel in the sensations, the music, the touch. His lips find mine. His dry lips. Cracked, rough. I prefer softness, but it doesn't matter, lost in the moment. His tongue forces its way between my lips. I think of resisting, but give in. I don't even know what he looks like, who he is, eyes closed, feeling his tongue thrust into my waiting mouth in time with the music. I press my body against his side, my legs almost wrapped around his leg, breasts mashed against him, as his need for my mouth pushes his tongue in frantic motions. He ate onions, his breath heavy with them. I don't like onions, but I ignore it, focusing on the music, and what his other hand is doing, since it is now squeezing my breast. One on my ass cheek, one on my breast. Tit for tat, I grab his groin. I can feel his hard bulge under his jeans. Tight jeans. Not a bad package. My eyes open wide as he slips his hand under my dress, pushing his fingers against my panties, rubbing them against my pussy. He hasn't shaved for a few days, his stubble black. His eyes brown. Nose slightly offset, like it had been broken and not put back quite right. Or broken more than once. A tattoo on his cheek, A pot leaf. A septum piercing, the ring thick. His eyes look cold. A gangbanger or something? That is what he looks like. Raw, intimidating, powerful. The music, the man, matching. He looks like the kind of guy you ask to kill someone, not the kind of man you bring to mom and dad. Dangerous. So why am I letting him pull me towards the back?
Sorry, see, sidetracked. You can use your imagination to figure out what me and him do in the back, back room, bathroom, alley. Who knows. Anyways, that is not what this post is about. It is to let everyone know I am back, and horny as ever. I know I have an old story to finish, Brotherly Love, but I will be starting a new story. About a party girl, and things that go to far. I can't explain why I am in the mood for darker fantasy. For writing about humiliation, degradation, and objectification, a girl who goes to far and doesn't really care, but that is what I will be working on next. I will get back to Brotherly Love sometime...
But also, I will be changing the blog a bit. I am going to try experimenting with the pages system, see if I can put chain stories together, so they are easier to read together. We will see how that works out. I am not computer stupid, but not that great either, so it may end up a mess. Then again, messed can be fun. Hot, sticky, salty messes, on my tits, on my ass, on my face and in my mouth, in my pussy. Want to watch me swallow?
Anyways, so, a little heads up on what is coming, and sorry to frustrate, it is not intentional. It is just the consequence of enjoying stories written by someone with a few...focus problems...
Update: Yes, I have noticed the format is all messed up on some that I copied and pasted from another location. The EP copy/pastes are the worst -.-
I am trying to fix this...
Warned you it might be a little...messy...
More updates: Disappearing posts-some posts will be disappearing from the home page feed. They are still there, but will be hidden. These are the ones I have created a separate page for. The links to the original posts will be at the top of those pages, so the stories aren't gone, and the comments on those won't be gone either. They will just not clutter up the home page. I think I will eventually move all "story/experience" posts to their own page, so the home page will just be my whatever ramblings.
Anyways, let me know what you think of the changes in the comments.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Friday, September 4, 2015
Master-slave (Slave fantasy)
Here is a little one I wrote for someone. I think I am frustrating him, he doesn't seem to get what I write. Anyways, maybe my readers will here:
Master? Are you there?
Can you please help me master?
It is cold. It is dark.
I need you master.
I want to please you master.
Am I a good slave master?
Did I please you master?
I did what you told me.
I let all the boys use me.
They spanked me.
They whipped me.
They tied me to the bed and fucked me and fucked me and fucked me.
I was so sore by the end of it master.
They used my mouth master. Just like you said.
They used my pussy master. Just like you said.
They used my ass master. Just like you said.
So many master. I lost count. 10. 20. I don't know.
They fucked me soft master.
They fucked me hard master.
They used me once master.
They used me twice master.
They used me over and over and over again.
I don't know how long master.
1 hour.
2.
8.
A day.
Master? Are you there?
Can you please help me master?
It is cold. It is dark.
I need you master.
I want to please you master.
Am I a good slave master?
Did I please you master?
I did what you told me.
I let all the boys use me.
They spanked me.
They whipped me.
They tied me to the bed and fucked me and fucked me and fucked me.
I was so sore by the end of it master.
They used my mouth master. Just like you said.
They used my pussy master. Just like you said.
They used my ass master. Just like you said.
So many master. I lost count. 10. 20. I don't know.
They fucked me soft master.
They fucked me hard master.
They used me once master.
They used me twice master.
They used me over and over and over again.
I don't know how long master.
1 hour.
2.
8.
A day.
4.
10.
I lost track master.
I tried to please them all.
Some yelled at me master.
Some hit me master.
Some cussed at me master.
Some spit on me master.
I enjoyed it so master.
They walked me around naked master.
So many eyes, all over me master.
Seeing my most intimate parts.
They used me and used me and used me and used me.
I can still feel their cum inside me master.
In my stomach.
In my ass.
In my pussy.
In my hair.
On my skin.
Covered everywhere.
Dripping. Drying. Walking around, covered in their cum.
Was I good master?
I did like you asked.
10.
I lost track master.
I tried to please them all.
Some yelled at me master.
Some hit me master.
Some cussed at me master.
Some spit on me master.
I enjoyed it so master.
They walked me around naked master.
So many eyes, all over me master.
Seeing my most intimate parts.
They used me and used me and used me and used me.
I can still feel their cum inside me master.
In my stomach.
In my ass.
In my pussy.
In my hair.
On my skin.
Covered everywhere.
Dripping. Drying. Walking around, covered in their cum.
Was I good master?
I did like you asked.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
The big game (Fantasy I wrote for someone)
Okay, here is a story I wrote for someone. I have been a bit moody lately, he put up with me, so I rewarded him.
"Hey, I am going to a party. Want to join?"
"Sure. It is boring here anyways."
I noticed one guy who kept leering at me. I could see his eyes checking me out.
A creepy feeling washed over me, but I ignored it.
The night continued, and I turned into the good little hostess, regardless of what I wanted. The men got louder, my husband and the others got drunker, and the one started to get a little...freer with his hands. Twice he tried to slip his hand up my dress. He tried to lift it. Kept trying to stare into my top.
Honestly, the guy creeped me out, but, I was annoyed. I wanted to slap my husband for not telling me before he asked if I wanted to join.
"Party" I snorted. The creepy guy heard me. He was handsome, but the way he kept looking at me, I wanted him gone.
"Hey, I am going to a party. Want to join?"
"Sure. It is boring here anyways."
I throw on one of my favorite dresses, some makeup, and we leave for the party.
We arrive, and I notice something strange. It seems it is all guys.
"Wait, I thought you said party?"
"Yeah, it is for the game tonight."
"Why didn't you tell me? I would have stayed home."
He knew how I hated these "game parties".
A bunch of men, yelling at the TV, and eating junk food.
I growled under my breath as we went in.
I looked around, and there were 10 guys, and no women.
Yeah, big surprise, that.
"Hey, great! Can you help us with the snacks?"
They looked directly at me. Like "Hey, it's a woman. She can serve us food."
It only made me more upset at my husband.
So, I did the "good little woman" thing, and started getting some snacks, beers out of the fridge, and passing them around.
I noticed one guy who kept leering at me. I could see his eyes checking me out.
A creepy feeling washed over me, but I ignored it.
The night continued, and I turned into the good little hostess, regardless of what I wanted. The men got louder, my husband and the others got drunker, and the one started to get a little...freer with his hands. Twice he tried to slip his hand up my dress. He tried to lift it. Kept trying to stare into my top.
Honestly, the guy creeped me out, but, I was annoyed. I wanted to slap my husband for not telling me before he asked if I wanted to join.
"Party" I snorted. The creepy guy heard me. He was handsome, but the way he kept looking at me, I wanted him gone.
But, he also gave me an idea on how to get revenge.
I whispered something in his ear, and he asked the creepy guy to leave.
"Thank you," I told him, and honored my end of the deal. He stood there, grinning like some silly school boy.
I slipped my panties off, being careful not to expose anything, and handed them to him. My husband's jaw dropped open, but he didn't say anything.
After that, I decided to have a drink or two myself. I might as well try to have some fun.
As the night wore on, I got a few looks, more curious than anything. Some of the guys did admire me, but it didn't make my skin crawl like the other guy.
As I drank, I noticed my legs were slightly parted.
That gave me another idea.
I shifted my dress up a bit and say there, legs spread wide.
One of the guys looked at me, and I knew from the angle he was at he saw more of me than he expected, sitting there, in a dress, legs spread.
I also knew he did because suddenly he was spitting and sputtering, as his drink went down the wrong way.
I smiled at him, and he smiled weakly at me, then turned away.
But, he could not seem to take his eyes off me out of the corner of his eye.
I whispered something in his ear, and he asked the creepy guy to leave.
"Thank you," I told him, and honored my end of the deal. He stood there, grinning like some silly school boy.
I slipped my panties off, being careful not to expose anything, and handed them to him. My husband's jaw dropped open, but he didn't say anything.
After that, I decided to have a drink or two myself. I might as well try to have some fun.
As the night wore on, I got a few looks, more curious than anything. Some of the guys did admire me, but it didn't make my skin crawl like the other guy.
As I drank, I noticed my legs were slightly parted.
That gave me another idea.
I shifted my dress up a bit and say there, legs spread wide.
One of the guys looked at me, and I knew from the angle he was at he saw more of me than he expected, sitting there, in a dress, legs spread.
I also knew he did because suddenly he was spitting and sputtering, as his drink went down the wrong way.
I smiled at him, and he smiled weakly at me, then turned away.
But, he could not seem to take his eyes off me out of the corner of his eye.
My husband was pretty much completely drunk by now, and many of the others were too, but not all. Some didn't seem to be drinking much.
I felt a bit tipsy myself. I was not used to drinking.
I grabbed my husband, and pulled him next to me.
He looked at my exposed legs, and put his hand on them.
"I didn't realize your dress was that short." He didn't even seem to realize I had pulled it up.
Tipsy, a bit mad at him, I pushed his hand further up. Poor him, he didn't realize it wasn't for him, it was for the others.
He didn't even think about everyone seeing his wife, just got caught up in the moment. His hand slipped up my leg, exposing my entire outer thigh.
From his angle, you couldn't see much, but I could see more eyes turning towards us. And many of those eyes could see more than my husband could.
Several of those eyes stayed on us.
I turned my head towards my husband, lips connecting, kissing him deeply. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but I am also a little irrational when I get angry. And can be very petty. When I get like that, I can take things a little too far.
I felt a bit tipsy myself. I was not used to drinking.
I grabbed my husband, and pulled him next to me.
He looked at my exposed legs, and put his hand on them.
"I didn't realize your dress was that short." He didn't even seem to realize I had pulled it up.
Tipsy, a bit mad at him, I pushed his hand further up. Poor him, he didn't realize it wasn't for him, it was for the others.
He didn't even think about everyone seeing his wife, just got caught up in the moment. His hand slipped up my leg, exposing my entire outer thigh.
From his angle, you couldn't see much, but I could see more eyes turning towards us. And many of those eyes could see more than my husband could.
Several of those eyes stayed on us.
I turned my head towards my husband, lips connecting, kissing him deeply. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but I am also a little irrational when I get angry. And can be very petty. When I get like that, I can take things a little too far.
Too drunk to really think about where he was, he got into the kiss. Soon, his hands were trying to explore my body. He grasped my breast through my dress, squeezing it slightly.
He also ran his hand over the top of my upper thigh, then towards the front. Feeling nothing there, except me, drove his lust higher. He no longer even thought about, and not even sure he remembered, the others around us. His hands pushed my dress up, fully exposing me.
I did not forget where we were, or who was around us though. I watched them, and their eyes, glued to my husband's hand meeting my naked pussy.
He pulled my legs apart, pushed his fingers inside me. I almost climaxed, doing this, here, in front of all these men.
His other hand went around behind my neck. Our lips still locked, our tongues still exploring, he fumbled around, trying to find the zipper.
No one said a word. The TV, the game, had become the only noise other than my husband's heavy breaths.
I reached over, stroking the front of his pants. He was finally erect. I wasn't completely sure he would be able to with how drunk he was.
I played around with the cloth, covering his penis. Played with the zipper. Finally, he found the clasp of my dress, undid it, started to try to unzip it.
I say try, because he wasn't doing that great. Fumbly fingers don't do well with dress zippers.
He tugged, and his fingers slipped. He found, and they slipped again.
I turned him sideways, hands on his knees, guiding him, so if he looked straight, he would not suddenly remember where he was.
Then, I stood up, dress settling back in place again, and kneeled on the couch in front of him.
I bent down, face in his lap, unzipping his pants with my teeth. Finally, they were down.
This let him get better access to the zipper in the back. Reaching over my head he was able to slowly get it down.
I pulled his underwear with my teeth, not wanting to use my hands. Why? I don't know, more challenge, and maybe I could match his pace, so I freed him while he freed me.
He got the zipper down, exposing my back, causing the front to fall forward slightly. The men watching got an eyeful of my breasts, at least from the side. I no longer watched them, but could feel them watching us.
I freed his penis before he could get the zipper over my hips. It might expose my top, but the dress was by no means free.
I took his penis in my mouth, sucking it, licking it working it in and out.
Playing with the head. Running my lips and tongue along the shaft.
Finally, he got the zipper all the way down. My dress now hung completely off from the top, not just a large gap exposing my breasts, but completely topless.
I was so wet already, and wanted to get to the next stage before he realized. I was still surprised he hadn't even noticed all the guys staring, but I didn't care.
I wanted them to watch.
No panties, dress already down, I moved his hands, stood up and kneeled on top of him. Leg between his leg and the cushion, other leg close to slipping off the other side completely, I lifted the dress up to access his penis.
I worked it inside me. He closed his eyes as I worked it, little by little, until he was deep inside.
I let the dress bundle atop us again.
I wanted them to see us having sex. I didn't want them to see me being penetrated.
I slowly started moving my hips, as I straddled him, top completely exposed, bottom hidden by the dress fallen around our groins.
I worked his penis, pulling myself off it, before pushing myself back on.
I closed my eyes as I felt him inside me, savoring it, wanting it.
I moved slowly, enjoying the sensation, enjoying the feeling of eyes upon me.
I saw a flash.
I opened my eyes, and reached over. The guy was so close I was able to grab the phone out of his hand.
He jumped back in surprise, and my other hand pushed my husband's face into my cleavage, between my breasts.
I gave the man a wicked smile and motioned him to come closer.
With one hand on my husband's head, shoving him into my cleavage, the other grabbed the guys hair as I pulled his ear to my mouth, guided by his long hair.
"I will keep your phone until I can delete the pictures. And tell the others if they take a picture of me, I will make sure they regret it."
He tried to sneer, and I pulled his hair harder.
"Next time," I whispered into his ear, "I will pull your sack instead, and squeeze. And you have a naked woman in this room, want to bet what you wife would say if I said you took part?"
He looked at his ring on his finger, and decided it would be best to not challenge me.
"Now be good and tell the others." I whispered to him.
I put my fingers to my lips to let them know to stay quiet, the whole time still moving my hips slowly.
But, I could also feel him getting soft. The alcohol and not enough stimulation wasn't helping.
He quietly told the others, and they kept their phones to themselves.
I let my husband pull his head back finally, and bent my neck down to kiss him deeply.
I moved my hips faster, faster, speeding up, stopping. He stiffened up again, and I rode him. I savored him. I savored their eyes.
I could feel my pussy tighten around him, could feel him respond.
I climaxed, causing my pussy to squeeze him, his penis suddenly cumming deep inside of me.
He lay back, closing his eyes. Soon, he was passed out.
I zipped up my dress, got everyone more drinks and snacks, and let them continue watching the game.
"I wonder how much my husband will remember in the morning?"
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Subway groping
So, this is a random thought I have been having recently.
I will write a little more on this later, I have some writing ideas for it, but I wanted you ladies and gentlemen to give me some feedback.
I have seen more than one of those videos where someone starts groping a woman.
Is it wrong of me to...well...want it to happen to me? Maybe the society I currently live in is too polite. I mean, I have had people touch me before. Brush against my breast. Brush against my ass. You know, the stick out parts. But, I have never had anyone actually try to grope me.
Not that I want to be groped every time I get on a crowded train. But, I want to see what it is like.
Out there. In public. Lots of people around. A stranger starts touching you. Here. There. Yum.
Anyways, what do I want from my readers? Two things.
First, tell me your thoughts. Is something wrong with me? Yes, probably, but I still want to know your thoughts.
Second, for those of you who are writing inclined, I want you to tell me about it. You can do it in the comments if you want, but it is limited to about 4000 words (I looked it up, and don't remember). Or, email me the story. I want to see what you would do.
But, here is another added caveat. Make me believe it. Show me exactly where you would go, or stop. Write it as you would really do it, if you had me, there, in front of you. Just standing there, on the crowded train, and you are behind me. Or in front of me. I want to be able to believe it.
I mean, would you really go very far, when you know others are around? Would you just squeeze and play a little, or would you try to slide my panties down my legs? Remember, in real life, there can be...consequences.
Why do I want it believable? Well, because of one thing. If someone can turn me on, and make me want it. And, if you come to come here at some point. Well, I will make arrangements, to take a certain MRT, at a certain time, in a certain car. And, well, maybe you will be there. Not in a story. But in real life.
Is this an honest offer? Yes. I would make sure you knew what I looked like, how to find me. Everything. But. Only to someone who can make me want it, see it, know that I would be safe from consequences. But, before you get your hands ready and in motion, remember, there are real people, with real eyes, and posters all over the MRT that tell to report, that reminds everyone of the phone numbers. So, how would we not get caught?
Hmm, I guess I will leave all this to anyone willing to either write it in the comments, or put it in my naughty box (dirtylittlemestorytime@gmail.com)
No worries, I will write a nice, sensual story, either in my own comments, or in another post (After all, I still need to make up for my horrible good girl post).
I will write a little more on this later, I have some writing ideas for it, but I wanted you ladies and gentlemen to give me some feedback.
I have seen more than one of those videos where someone starts groping a woman.
Is it wrong of me to...well...want it to happen to me? Maybe the society I currently live in is too polite. I mean, I have had people touch me before. Brush against my breast. Brush against my ass. You know, the stick out parts. But, I have never had anyone actually try to grope me.
Not that I want to be groped every time I get on a crowded train. But, I want to see what it is like.
Out there. In public. Lots of people around. A stranger starts touching you. Here. There. Yum.
Anyways, what do I want from my readers? Two things.
First, tell me your thoughts. Is something wrong with me? Yes, probably, but I still want to know your thoughts.
Second, for those of you who are writing inclined, I want you to tell me about it. You can do it in the comments if you want, but it is limited to about 4000 words (I looked it up, and don't remember). Or, email me the story. I want to see what you would do.
But, here is another added caveat. Make me believe it. Show me exactly where you would go, or stop. Write it as you would really do it, if you had me, there, in front of you. Just standing there, on the crowded train, and you are behind me. Or in front of me. I want to be able to believe it.
I mean, would you really go very far, when you know others are around? Would you just squeeze and play a little, or would you try to slide my panties down my legs? Remember, in real life, there can be...consequences.
Why do I want it believable? Well, because of one thing. If someone can turn me on, and make me want it. And, if you come to come here at some point. Well, I will make arrangements, to take a certain MRT, at a certain time, in a certain car. And, well, maybe you will be there. Not in a story. But in real life.
Is this an honest offer? Yes. I would make sure you knew what I looked like, how to find me. Everything. But. Only to someone who can make me want it, see it, know that I would be safe from consequences. But, before you get your hands ready and in motion, remember, there are real people, with real eyes, and posters all over the MRT that tell to report, that reminds everyone of the phone numbers. So, how would we not get caught?
Hmm, I guess I will leave all this to anyone willing to either write it in the comments, or put it in my naughty box (dirtylittlemestorytime@gmail.com)
No worries, I will write a nice, sensual story, either in my own comments, or in another post (After all, I still need to make up for my horrible good girl post).
But, after all, there are lots of fantasies. And I doubt very well that someone would want to come all this way just to feel me up (Remember, I will not go that far with anyone other than my husband. So, you would only get so far).
So, you can also tell me what you would do to me in a world where you can do anything without any consequences. Or something in between.
Your story. It is up to you.
PS. Please also mention if I can use your story for new stories. Either by changing it, or posting it directly. Remember, I will give you credit, even if I re-write it (So I would also need to know how to give you credit, via a nickname, your email address, or whatever). So please let me know, just in case, what you would like me to do with the story.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Such a good little girl (Bus fantasy)
Sorry, but I am killing this story. Maybe I will try to rewrite it. The day I thought of it, it was much better, but I was scootering, so not good for trying to write on my phone. Now, I can't seem to get it to come out right. I will leave it up, but I will not work on this specific post further. Keep an eye out for the new, updated "Such a good little girl". Maybe I will make it better.
So, recently, I had a reader trying a naughty cyber with me where he was being naughty with me on the bus. It made me think of the situation, but I imagine it different.
I was such a good girl. Always got straight A's. Tried my best to make my mom and dad happy. Left the boys alone. Catholic school honor roll. Best in high school.
I was.
On the bus, riding to the library. My parents don't let me use the computer. They refuse to give me a phone. I don't mind. I am a good girl.
I watched out the window when you sat down. Why did you sit next to me? A man, close.
My father told me about you men. How you will hurt good little girls. Be mean to them. Only want one thing. One evil, wicked, naughty thing. I didn't understand what that was, I just knew on faith of my daddy's words.
I looked away from the window, watching the city roll by, and glanced at you, only to look away again. Quickly. That strange expression on your face. Your eyes not looking in mine. Why are you sitting next to me? The expression I don't quite understand upon your face.
I am just a good little girl.
I watched you, out of the corner of my eye. I don't understand you. A puzzle. A look.
I saw your hand rub the front of your pants. Why do your pants bulge like that? I don't understand.
"Boys will hurt you. They have wicked parts, that they will try to hurt you with. Never let a boy touch you. They are evil."
"But daddy, I don't understand. You are a boy."
"But your father isn't like other boys. He is a good boy. We went to Sunday school together, camp together. Our parents were good friends, and both families agreed that we would make a great couple."
"Yes, and I loved your mother. But I knew about the wickedness from Satan. And I pray to the lord to overcome and be a good person, not giving in to my wicked nature. Most men don't."
"I understand," I said to them, although I didn't, not completely. But, the message gets through if told often enough. I eventually understood, and stayed away from boys. I had a couple friends who were boys, but they were in my church. Most I avoided. Boys were wicked. They pulled my hair when I was younger, and called me named when I was older. Like prude.
Why did you sit down next to me? A wicked man.
Your hand rubbed the bulge hard. What is that? What is down your pants? A cat? Why are you rubbing it?
Maybe you are hurt, and swollen up.
"Get out!" my dad screamed.
Oops. He was changing. But, I have seen a butt before. I have one of my own. Why would he yell like that? I guess it was me being bad. I knew better than to go in their room without knocking. But it was so unfair. Why didn't he close the door if he didn't want me to come in?
He stepped out, having finished dressing. "Sorry for yelling, but you should knock first." He sighed. "Honey, do you understand why I was upset?"
I shook my head no. My dad was kind, if strict. "Because a girl should never look at a boy with no clothes. It is wicked." He liked that word, wicked. I guess other people might find it strange, but I was used to it, and understood.
"You are not allowed to look at boys with no clothes on until you are married. And then only your husband." My face screwed up. Me, married? Eww. Boys were icky, and wicked. Why would I ever want to marry one?
"That way lies lust, and temptation. That way lies the devil. 'And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil' You know what will happen if you let the devil get you, right?"
I gulped, shook my head yes. He would take my skin off. He would stab me and rip out my eyes, use them for his dice. He would burn me, forever and ever and ever. His demons would hurt me, whip me, torture me. Do unspeakable things. I was not sure what they were, but my mommy made sure I knew they were scary.
He nodded, seeing I understood. "I am sorry daddy. I will not look at any boys with no clothes on."
I watched you rub your pants out of the corner of my eye. I understand aches and pains. I understand Eve's burden. Every month it happens. I cramp. I hurt. But that is where your naughty parts are. You shouldn't rub in public. What if someone saw you? Why couldn't I stop watching, out of the corner of my eye?
Your hand reached over and took mine. My throat closed up in panic. A man, touching me. Was he going to hurt me? Stranger danger. But I couldn't scream through my panic.
Your hand took mine, put in on the bulge. My skin felt hot. Why did it feel hot? I looked at myself in the window reflection. My skin was all red.
You moved my hand, rubbing where you rubbed. As my wits gathered, I pulled my hand away. I am a good girl. I don't touch men. Especially not there.
You rubbed more, as I watched out of the corner of my eye.
You other hand reached back over, placed on my knee. My skirt kept it from touching my skin, but it still felt hot.
You rubbed my knee as your other hand kept rubbing your pants. You moved closer, pressing up against me. Too close. You shouldn't be that close. The seat had lots of room, so why were you so close?
Your hand reached down, undoing your zipper. I saw a flash of white, your underwear. This time I knew I was blushing. You should never show your underwear in public.
"Don't you look away while I am talking to you." My head suddenly rang, my mother's slap hard on my 8 year old cheek. "What do you think you were doing?"
I looked back in her eyes, tears welling up. "But mommy, I was just playing on the bars."
I didn't understand why she was so mad.
"You were upside down! With your skirt around your waist, showing everyone your underwear!"
I looked away again, and felt another sting as she slapped me again.
"You wait until I tell your dad that you were showing your underwear to everyone on the playground," she growled.
I panicked. "Don't tell daddy," I pleaded. "I won't do it again."
She looked me in the eye, and some of the anger left her. "I won't tell him, this time. But, if I ever see you showing your underwear to anyone again, I will tell him. Promise me you won't do that again."
I nodded, and she seemed satisfied. From that moment on, I knew that I should never let anyone see my underwear.
You reached into your pants and continued rubbing the swollen...whatever. I would have felt sorrier for you if you weren't still rubbing my knee. Jesus wants us to help our fellow man, to treat them with kindness.
You took your hand out and took my hand again, pushed it more firmly against your pants, unzipped, showing your underwear. I looked at your face, and the expression was unusual, and intimidated me. This time I kept my hand there, and tried rubbing like you did. Your face looked excited. I looked down at my hand and focused on rubbing. Poor you. I had to make you stop hurting. But, I was scared. I shouldn't touch a man. I was torn, and kept it up in my confusion.
Your hand pulled my skirt, raising it from midway down my calf to my knee, above. Your touch on my bare knee was electric. I stopped rubbing, I was paralyzed. Your hand was rough, warm. A bit like my daddy's. Maybe you knew my daddy. Maybe that is why you sat next to me. But, I had never seen you. So if you knew my daddy, why didn't I know you?
Your hand moved to the inside of my knee. I tried to put my knees together, but your hand kept them separated. They moved up slightly, squeezing me, your hand closing, then opening.
I was 6. I had walked into my parents room,and saw them, doing something. No clothes on, they were twisting this way and that way. They didn't notice me. I saw mommy, bouncing up and down. It looked like fun. But, daddy was on his back, laying there. I couldn't see clearly in the dark, but it was like when I would play horse with daddy, only backwards. I would sit on his back, and he would move around the house on his hands and knees. Maybe they were playing horse. I wanted to play too.
Daddy looked over, and saw me in front of the door. "Get back to bed!" he roared. My heart jumped, and I ran back to my room. I curled up in a ball and closed my eyes tight.
My mom and dad came into my room a few minutes later, standing at the door. "Don't you dare get out of bed again." They closed the door and left. I covered myself with the blanket. The scary monsters couldn't get me if they didn't see me. I wish I could sleep with mommy and daddy. Maybe play horse like mommy was.
Your hand moved mid-thigh. I breathed heavily. I knew I shouldn't let you touch me there, but I was afraid. What would happen if I tried to stop you? Anyways, everyone was around us on the bus, so I knew you wouldn't do anything bad.
You shoved my hand in your pants. I could feel your underwear. Slightly damp. A slight smell, coming from there. I rubbed. It felt like you had a hotdog inside your pants. My fingers explored a little as they rubbed, trying to understand the shape. You didn't stop me, you just continued to rub the inside of my thigh.
It felt hot there. So hot. For some reason, my down there started feeling hot as I felt it, trying to figure out what it was. Heat in your pants. Heat between my legs.
You pulled my hand out, and reached inside yourself. You pulled your underwear down. I watched, seeing your skin. Seeing you. What was it? Your down there. All veins and ridges. All swollen and red at the top. Almost purple. Now I knew why you kept rubbing. It looked so painful. Did something break and swell?
"It was a serious break, but it will heal with no last effects. She will just need to take it easy with that leg for a while. In two weeks, we can see about getting her a walking cast, but until then, she needs to stay off it."
My parents nodded to the doctor, but kept shooting glares at me. When the doctor finished giving them instructions and left the room, my parents exploded.
"What were you doing on the roof young lady?"
"Sally told me I couldn't, and teased me. She kept looking down from the roof and saying I was scared."
"I don't care what Sally said. You know better than to do things like that! Has the devil gotten into you girl? I will beat him right out if he has." I knew it was no empty threat.
The skin around the break was red and purple, bruised. It looked similar to the top of your, whatever. Poor man. But still, you shouldn't take things out of your pants. Someone might see your naughty parts.
Still unsure what it was, I kept my hand back. My leg hurt when it was touched, so I thought it would hurt you to touch. You took my hand anyways and put it right on top, then moved it up and down.
I rubbed, unsure what I should do, but knowing I still shouldn't touch you, a wicked man. But I didn't know what else to do, so I continued. Like rubbing a table surface, hand flat, I pushed down slightly. Slowly. Your hand moved further up my leg. Almost to my underwear.
My hand rubbed harder, faster, although I don't know why. I saw a wince from your face, and stopped.
You wrapped my finders around it, and moved them up and down. Like when I would polish the candle holders at church. Squeeze my hand, pull up, push down. It is so hot. Like you were on fire. Were you the devil?
You adjusted my grip, the way I moved my hand, once, twice, three times, then sat still, your hand pausing on my thigh. A new look overcame your face. This seemed to have made you feel better.
Your hand continued, then moved up, touching my underwear. My insides curdled. I felt like I was going to be sick. I couldn't move. My hand stopped. My mind froze. You were touching my underwear. You shouldn't touch my underwear. Why wasn't I stopping you? Why was I frozen?
Once I could move again, I tried to push your hand away. You were so strong. I couldn't move it. I was scared. I didn't want you to hurt me.
Your hand caressed my skin, the edge of my underwear, where the two meet. My hand pulled up and down, no rhythm, inconsistent. You leaned over, your lips brushing my ear. I froze again.
My butt hurt so bad I couldn't even sit down. "What have I told you about boys?" my dad asked.
"Not to let them touch me," I mumbled through tears and hiccoughs.
"I can't hear you." he growled at me in warning.
This time I spoke up. "Not to let them touch me."
"So why were you caught on the playground, kissing Tom?"
"I'm sorry dad. He told me it was fun. It seemed like fun."
"'Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.' The bible tells us that it is wicked. It is impure. Is it immoral. I have warned you about boys. Your mom has warned you about boys. You are a wicked daughter. Now bend over."
I bent over, and his belt struck me again. Again. My sobbing renewed. It was a wicked thing, kissing a boy. It was evil desire, and immoral. We had to be stronger than that, and stop the devil from tempting us into that behavior. I deserved to be punished. Otherwise, I would let the devil get me.
"For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God." He continued quoting scripture I had violated when I kissed the boy I liked while the belt continued slapping across my butt.
Your mouth met my ear, not brushing it, but kissing it. I felt tingles run through my body, sparks blossom from your kisses. My hand continued rubbing as you took my ear in your mouth. Your other hand, freed from comforting your red and purple, angry, thing, came to my stomach as your other continued tracing my skin and underwear, exploring where they met.
You moved on from there, kissing my jawbone, kissing my cheek. Your hand moved from my stomach to my chin, pulling me around until I was looking into your eyes. Your lips touched mine.
Stunned, suddenly at a loss of breath, I didn't know what to do. Your lips were parted, while mine were closed. I could feel your tongue push against my lips, trying to get between them. I held them firmly closed. This was too much. I took my hands away, and refused to keep trying to comfort me while you tried to do something so wicked.
But, I also knew men liked to hurt girls. If I fought you, you might hurt me. But, all these other people around, surely you wouldn't try to hurt me. I didn't know what to do, so I just sat there, letting you kiss me. Maybe you were the devil.
You lifted my skirt more, exposing my underwear. I tried to pull it down, but gave up, seeing the futility of it. I hoped no one would see my exposed underwear. You shouldn't be showing them. Why couldn't I seem to stop you?
Your fingers pressed against the fabric, pressure put on my down there. I felt so hot. My down there felt like it was wet. I didn't understand. You press harder. I know what is down there, but I don't touch it, except to wash it.
My mother opened the bathroom door.
"Are you okay? I thought I heard something."
My moan drifted out. She looked at me through the mirror. In our house, we didn't even look at each other when we had no clothes on.
"What are you doing!?" She looked at me. I could feel her eyes on me, with my hands between my legs. I felt so hot down there. I don't know why I started, but I felt I needed to do something. My fingers were rubbing myself, the two folds of skin slightly parted. I pushed them in a couple times before my mother came in. She stepped over and grabbed my arm, pulling my hand away from my lower area. "Why would you touch yourself down there?" She screeched. I blushed like the sunset. "The devil has gotten into you!" She pulled me out of the bathtub, grabbing my arm. It felt like she was about to rip it out of the socket.
"But mom, I felt so..."
She cut me off. "I don't care what you felt. You don't do that!" She dragged me into the living room. I stood there, dropping water, naked, in front of my dad. She told him what I was doing.
He took me and pushed me down over his knee. His hand slapped my butt, hard, again, again, again.
He said it over and over as he spanked me. My butt was bright red. I sobbed and cried and screamed, begging him to stop. I wasn't sure if I would die from the spanking, or from the humiliation of being in front of my parents with no clothes on. Eventually, he stopped spanking, and I had a long time to think about what I had done as I said my Lord's Prayer and Hail Mary. I wondered if Jesus would forgive me for giving into my lustful nature.
I sat there, paralyzed, as you rubbed harder. Almost pushing your fingers inside me through my underwear. My skirt was above my panties now, and your, that, was sitting there untouched, you were so focused on kissing my lips and rubbing my that.
I felt the heat I had on that previous day. Like I needed something. But inside, I was screaming. I was chanting. I was saying the Lord's Prayer over and over, trying to forget where I was, and what was happening to me. But, why did it feel so...right? Why did my body feel so good? Then again, my parents always told me that the devil had the sweetest lies.
After a while, a realization came over me. It wasn't hurting. My parents told me so many times men liked to hurt girls. But it felt wonderful, not painful. My body and mind were at war, mixed messages, leaving me still for whatever you wanted to do to me.
Your fingers went to the edge of the fabric of my underwear. Then, pushed it aside. Goose bumps rolled over me as your fingers met me there. In the place that was washed, but not touched. You gently stroked the outer part, fingers running through the hair, and over the skin. So sensitive. My mind was numb. I was open to your touch.
You pushed against the skin firmer. Firmer. Finally, your fingers pushed inside me, a slightly wet sound. My insides spasmed, my mind rebelled. I pushed at your arm, but it wouldn't budge. My throat locked tight.
Your fingers continued to push inside me, deeper. I looked in amazement as they disappeared.
"But mommy, Sally said I should use these," I told her while holding a box of tampons.
"Put that away. Do you want others to see you holding it? What kind of a girl will they think you are." She looked at the box of tampons in disgust. "Good girls don't use those, since you have to put them inside your naughty part."
I thought about it, and thought she must be right. But, Sally was my friend, and she said I should use them. That they would be better than pads. And Sally was a good girl. She got into more trouble than me, but she was still a good girl. But I could see my mom wasn't in the mood to talk about it, so I didn't bother asking.
I finally gave in, and let your tongue penetrate my lips. I watched your face as you closed your eyes and explored my mouth with your tongue. Your breath was of slightly old food, a little sickly sweet. While it wasn't unpleasant, it wasn't the worst thing ever. I wondered if this was what it was like to be a princess, like you see in all the cartoons. True loves kiss. But, I didn't love you. So why did I feel so dizzy?
You turned towards me, sitting slightly sideways, and pulled my hand back onto your thing. I didn't bother to resist, but didn't do anything. Your one hand pushed inside me and pulled back out as you continued a long exploration of my mouth. Your other hand reached up, palm pressed against my breasts, and your first two fingers pushed in my shirt, between my buttons.
Sometimes my skin pinched slightly between your fingers and the edge of my underwear, but it wasn't painful.
Undoing one of my buttons, you slipped your entire hand in, reaching inside my bra. You found my nipple, and rubbed it. Mouth, kissing, fingers, pushing inside, other fingers, rubbing and pinching. My body felt like it was on overdrive. My parents, always warning me that men wanted to hurt me. But this wasn't painful, it was blissful.
I will finish this up, but honestly, I need to take a break from it. Too much right now. As for those who are wondering, "is anyone this naive", yes. I had a friend once who one day asked me a "personal" question. Her boyfriend kept bugging her about kissing him. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't. After some gentle questions, I finally had the full picture. See, she had grown up in a very religious family, and her parents had kept her very sheltered. I found out she had been having sex with her bf and had been letting him play with her breasts, cum in her pussy, things like that. The strangest part is, she thought you got pregnant by kissing. She didn't understand sex. No, she wasn't young, she was my age. We had some long discussions about this. I think she came to me more because I was "the exotic foreign friend", and she was worried other Taiwanese would tease her. Plus, I was married, so I must know all the answers to boys. Anyways, yes, some people are this sheltered, and while the internet makes it less common, it still happens.
Anyways, I will try to finish this up later. Hope you like what I have so far.
So, recently, I had a reader trying a naughty cyber with me where he was being naughty with me on the bus. It made me think of the situation, but I imagine it different.
I was such a good girl. Always got straight A's. Tried my best to make my mom and dad happy. Left the boys alone. Catholic school honor roll. Best in high school.
I was.
On the bus, riding to the library. My parents don't let me use the computer. They refuse to give me a phone. I don't mind. I am a good girl.
I watched out the window when you sat down. Why did you sit next to me? A man, close.
My father told me about you men. How you will hurt good little girls. Be mean to them. Only want one thing. One evil, wicked, naughty thing. I didn't understand what that was, I just knew on faith of my daddy's words.
I looked away from the window, watching the city roll by, and glanced at you, only to look away again. Quickly. That strange expression on your face. Your eyes not looking in mine. Why are you sitting next to me? The expression I don't quite understand upon your face.
I am just a good little girl.
I watched you, out of the corner of my eye. I don't understand you. A puzzle. A look.
I saw your hand rub the front of your pants. Why do your pants bulge like that? I don't understand.
"Boys will hurt you. They have wicked parts, that they will try to hurt you with. Never let a boy touch you. They are evil."
"But daddy, I don't understand. You are a boy."
"But your father isn't like other boys. He is a good boy. We went to Sunday school together, camp together. Our parents were good friends, and both families agreed that we would make a great couple."
"Yes, and I loved your mother. But I knew about the wickedness from Satan. And I pray to the lord to overcome and be a good person, not giving in to my wicked nature. Most men don't."
"I understand," I said to them, although I didn't, not completely. But, the message gets through if told often enough. I eventually understood, and stayed away from boys. I had a couple friends who were boys, but they were in my church. Most I avoided. Boys were wicked. They pulled my hair when I was younger, and called me named when I was older. Like prude.
Why did you sit down next to me? A wicked man.
Your hand rubbed the bulge hard. What is that? What is down your pants? A cat? Why are you rubbing it?
Maybe you are hurt, and swollen up.
"Get out!" my dad screamed.
Oops. He was changing. But, I have seen a butt before. I have one of my own. Why would he yell like that? I guess it was me being bad. I knew better than to go in their room without knocking. But it was so unfair. Why didn't he close the door if he didn't want me to come in?
He stepped out, having finished dressing. "Sorry for yelling, but you should knock first." He sighed. "Honey, do you understand why I was upset?"
I shook my head no. My dad was kind, if strict. "Because a girl should never look at a boy with no clothes. It is wicked." He liked that word, wicked. I guess other people might find it strange, but I was used to it, and understood.
"You are not allowed to look at boys with no clothes on until you are married. And then only your husband." My face screwed up. Me, married? Eww. Boys were icky, and wicked. Why would I ever want to marry one?
"That way lies lust, and temptation. That way lies the devil. 'And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil' You know what will happen if you let the devil get you, right?"
I gulped, shook my head yes. He would take my skin off. He would stab me and rip out my eyes, use them for his dice. He would burn me, forever and ever and ever. His demons would hurt me, whip me, torture me. Do unspeakable things. I was not sure what they were, but my mommy made sure I knew they were scary.
He nodded, seeing I understood. "I am sorry daddy. I will not look at any boys with no clothes on."
I watched you rub your pants out of the corner of my eye. I understand aches and pains. I understand Eve's burden. Every month it happens. I cramp. I hurt. But that is where your naughty parts are. You shouldn't rub in public. What if someone saw you? Why couldn't I stop watching, out of the corner of my eye?
Your hand reached over and took mine. My throat closed up in panic. A man, touching me. Was he going to hurt me? Stranger danger. But I couldn't scream through my panic.
Your hand took mine, put in on the bulge. My skin felt hot. Why did it feel hot? I looked at myself in the window reflection. My skin was all red.
You moved my hand, rubbing where you rubbed. As my wits gathered, I pulled my hand away. I am a good girl. I don't touch men. Especially not there.
You rubbed more, as I watched out of the corner of my eye.
You other hand reached back over, placed on my knee. My skirt kept it from touching my skin, but it still felt hot.
You rubbed my knee as your other hand kept rubbing your pants. You moved closer, pressing up against me. Too close. You shouldn't be that close. The seat had lots of room, so why were you so close?
Your hand reached down, undoing your zipper. I saw a flash of white, your underwear. This time I knew I was blushing. You should never show your underwear in public.
"Don't you look away while I am talking to you." My head suddenly rang, my mother's slap hard on my 8 year old cheek. "What do you think you were doing?"
I looked back in her eyes, tears welling up. "But mommy, I was just playing on the bars."
I didn't understand why she was so mad.
"You were upside down! With your skirt around your waist, showing everyone your underwear!"
I looked away again, and felt another sting as she slapped me again.
"You wait until I tell your dad that you were showing your underwear to everyone on the playground," she growled.
I panicked. "Don't tell daddy," I pleaded. "I won't do it again."
She looked me in the eye, and some of the anger left her. "I won't tell him, this time. But, if I ever see you showing your underwear to anyone again, I will tell him. Promise me you won't do that again."
I nodded, and she seemed satisfied. From that moment on, I knew that I should never let anyone see my underwear.
You reached into your pants and continued rubbing the swollen...whatever. I would have felt sorrier for you if you weren't still rubbing my knee. Jesus wants us to help our fellow man, to treat them with kindness.
You took your hand out and took my hand again, pushed it more firmly against your pants, unzipped, showing your underwear. I looked at your face, and the expression was unusual, and intimidated me. This time I kept my hand there, and tried rubbing like you did. Your face looked excited. I looked down at my hand and focused on rubbing. Poor you. I had to make you stop hurting. But, I was scared. I shouldn't touch a man. I was torn, and kept it up in my confusion.
Your hand pulled my skirt, raising it from midway down my calf to my knee, above. Your touch on my bare knee was electric. I stopped rubbing, I was paralyzed. Your hand was rough, warm. A bit like my daddy's. Maybe you knew my daddy. Maybe that is why you sat next to me. But, I had never seen you. So if you knew my daddy, why didn't I know you?
Your hand moved to the inside of my knee. I tried to put my knees together, but your hand kept them separated. They moved up slightly, squeezing me, your hand closing, then opening.
I was 6. I had walked into my parents room,and saw them, doing something. No clothes on, they were twisting this way and that way. They didn't notice me. I saw mommy, bouncing up and down. It looked like fun. But, daddy was on his back, laying there. I couldn't see clearly in the dark, but it was like when I would play horse with daddy, only backwards. I would sit on his back, and he would move around the house on his hands and knees. Maybe they were playing horse. I wanted to play too.
Daddy looked over, and saw me in front of the door. "Get back to bed!" he roared. My heart jumped, and I ran back to my room. I curled up in a ball and closed my eyes tight.
My mom and dad came into my room a few minutes later, standing at the door. "Don't you dare get out of bed again." They closed the door and left. I covered myself with the blanket. The scary monsters couldn't get me if they didn't see me. I wish I could sleep with mommy and daddy. Maybe play horse like mommy was.
Your hand moved mid-thigh. I breathed heavily. I knew I shouldn't let you touch me there, but I was afraid. What would happen if I tried to stop you? Anyways, everyone was around us on the bus, so I knew you wouldn't do anything bad.
You shoved my hand in your pants. I could feel your underwear. Slightly damp. A slight smell, coming from there. I rubbed. It felt like you had a hotdog inside your pants. My fingers explored a little as they rubbed, trying to understand the shape. You didn't stop me, you just continued to rub the inside of my thigh.
It felt hot there. So hot. For some reason, my down there started feeling hot as I felt it, trying to figure out what it was. Heat in your pants. Heat between my legs.
You pulled my hand out, and reached inside yourself. You pulled your underwear down. I watched, seeing your skin. Seeing you. What was it? Your down there. All veins and ridges. All swollen and red at the top. Almost purple. Now I knew why you kept rubbing. It looked so painful. Did something break and swell?
"It was a serious break, but it will heal with no last effects. She will just need to take it easy with that leg for a while. In two weeks, we can see about getting her a walking cast, but until then, she needs to stay off it."
My parents nodded to the doctor, but kept shooting glares at me. When the doctor finished giving them instructions and left the room, my parents exploded.
"What were you doing on the roof young lady?"
"Sally told me I couldn't, and teased me. She kept looking down from the roof and saying I was scared."
"I don't care what Sally said. You know better than to do things like that! Has the devil gotten into you girl? I will beat him right out if he has." I knew it was no empty threat.
The skin around the break was red and purple, bruised. It looked similar to the top of your, whatever. Poor man. But still, you shouldn't take things out of your pants. Someone might see your naughty parts.
Still unsure what it was, I kept my hand back. My leg hurt when it was touched, so I thought it would hurt you to touch. You took my hand anyways and put it right on top, then moved it up and down.
I rubbed, unsure what I should do, but knowing I still shouldn't touch you, a wicked man. But I didn't know what else to do, so I continued. Like rubbing a table surface, hand flat, I pushed down slightly. Slowly. Your hand moved further up my leg. Almost to my underwear.
My hand rubbed harder, faster, although I don't know why. I saw a wince from your face, and stopped.
You wrapped my finders around it, and moved them up and down. Like when I would polish the candle holders at church. Squeeze my hand, pull up, push down. It is so hot. Like you were on fire. Were you the devil?
You adjusted my grip, the way I moved my hand, once, twice, three times, then sat still, your hand pausing on my thigh. A new look overcame your face. This seemed to have made you feel better.
Your hand continued, then moved up, touching my underwear. My insides curdled. I felt like I was going to be sick. I couldn't move. My hand stopped. My mind froze. You were touching my underwear. You shouldn't touch my underwear. Why wasn't I stopping you? Why was I frozen?
Once I could move again, I tried to push your hand away. You were so strong. I couldn't move it. I was scared. I didn't want you to hurt me.
Your hand caressed my skin, the edge of my underwear, where the two meet. My hand pulled up and down, no rhythm, inconsistent. You leaned over, your lips brushing my ear. I froze again.
My butt hurt so bad I couldn't even sit down. "What have I told you about boys?" my dad asked.
"Not to let them touch me," I mumbled through tears and hiccoughs.
"I can't hear you." he growled at me in warning.
This time I spoke up. "Not to let them touch me."
"So why were you caught on the playground, kissing Tom?"
"I'm sorry dad. He told me it was fun. It seemed like fun."
"'Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.' The bible tells us that it is wicked. It is impure. Is it immoral. I have warned you about boys. Your mom has warned you about boys. You are a wicked daughter. Now bend over."
I bent over, and his belt struck me again. Again. My sobbing renewed. It was a wicked thing, kissing a boy. It was evil desire, and immoral. We had to be stronger than that, and stop the devil from tempting us into that behavior. I deserved to be punished. Otherwise, I would let the devil get me.
"For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God." He continued quoting scripture I had violated when I kissed the boy I liked while the belt continued slapping across my butt.
Your mouth met my ear, not brushing it, but kissing it. I felt tingles run through my body, sparks blossom from your kisses. My hand continued rubbing as you took my ear in your mouth. Your other hand, freed from comforting your red and purple, angry, thing, came to my stomach as your other continued tracing my skin and underwear, exploring where they met.
You moved on from there, kissing my jawbone, kissing my cheek. Your hand moved from my stomach to my chin, pulling me around until I was looking into your eyes. Your lips touched mine.
Stunned, suddenly at a loss of breath, I didn't know what to do. Your lips were parted, while mine were closed. I could feel your tongue push against my lips, trying to get between them. I held them firmly closed. This was too much. I took my hands away, and refused to keep trying to comfort me while you tried to do something so wicked.
But, I also knew men liked to hurt girls. If I fought you, you might hurt me. But, all these other people around, surely you wouldn't try to hurt me. I didn't know what to do, so I just sat there, letting you kiss me. Maybe you were the devil.
You lifted my skirt more, exposing my underwear. I tried to pull it down, but gave up, seeing the futility of it. I hoped no one would see my exposed underwear. You shouldn't be showing them. Why couldn't I seem to stop you?
Your fingers pressed against the fabric, pressure put on my down there. I felt so hot. My down there felt like it was wet. I didn't understand. You press harder. I know what is down there, but I don't touch it, except to wash it.
My mother opened the bathroom door.
"Are you okay? I thought I heard something."
My moan drifted out. She looked at me through the mirror. In our house, we didn't even look at each other when we had no clothes on.
"What are you doing!?" She looked at me. I could feel her eyes on me, with my hands between my legs. I felt so hot down there. I don't know why I started, but I felt I needed to do something. My fingers were rubbing myself, the two folds of skin slightly parted. I pushed them in a couple times before my mother came in. She stepped over and grabbed my arm, pulling my hand away from my lower area. "Why would you touch yourself down there?" She screeched. I blushed like the sunset. "The devil has gotten into you!" She pulled me out of the bathtub, grabbing my arm. It felt like she was about to rip it out of the socket.
"But mom, I felt so..."
She cut me off. "I don't care what you felt. You don't do that!" She dragged me into the living room. I stood there, dropping water, naked, in front of my dad. She told him what I was doing.
He took me and pushed me down over his knee. His hand slapped my butt, hard, again, again, again.
"Father,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come.
your will be done,
on earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us each day our daily bread,
and forgive us our sins
for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us.
And lead us not into temptation."
He said it over and over as he spanked me. My butt was bright red. I sobbed and cried and screamed, begging him to stop. I wasn't sure if I would die from the spanking, or from the humiliation of being in front of my parents with no clothes on. Eventually, he stopped spanking, and I had a long time to think about what I had done as I said my Lord's Prayer and Hail Mary. I wondered if Jesus would forgive me for giving into my lustful nature.
I sat there, paralyzed, as you rubbed harder. Almost pushing your fingers inside me through my underwear. My skirt was above my panties now, and your, that, was sitting there untouched, you were so focused on kissing my lips and rubbing my that.
I felt the heat I had on that previous day. Like I needed something. But inside, I was screaming. I was chanting. I was saying the Lord's Prayer over and over, trying to forget where I was, and what was happening to me. But, why did it feel so...right? Why did my body feel so good? Then again, my parents always told me that the devil had the sweetest lies.
After a while, a realization came over me. It wasn't hurting. My parents told me so many times men liked to hurt girls. But it felt wonderful, not painful. My body and mind were at war, mixed messages, leaving me still for whatever you wanted to do to me.
Your fingers went to the edge of the fabric of my underwear. Then, pushed it aside. Goose bumps rolled over me as your fingers met me there. In the place that was washed, but not touched. You gently stroked the outer part, fingers running through the hair, and over the skin. So sensitive. My mind was numb. I was open to your touch.
You pushed against the skin firmer. Firmer. Finally, your fingers pushed inside me, a slightly wet sound. My insides spasmed, my mind rebelled. I pushed at your arm, but it wouldn't budge. My throat locked tight.
Your fingers continued to push inside me, deeper. I looked in amazement as they disappeared.
"But mommy, Sally said I should use these," I told her while holding a box of tampons.
"Put that away. Do you want others to see you holding it? What kind of a girl will they think you are." She looked at the box of tampons in disgust. "Good girls don't use those, since you have to put them inside your naughty part."
I thought about it, and thought she must be right. But, Sally was my friend, and she said I should use them. That they would be better than pads. And Sally was a good girl. She got into more trouble than me, but she was still a good girl. But I could see my mom wasn't in the mood to talk about it, so I didn't bother asking.
I finally gave in, and let your tongue penetrate my lips. I watched your face as you closed your eyes and explored my mouth with your tongue. Your breath was of slightly old food, a little sickly sweet. While it wasn't unpleasant, it wasn't the worst thing ever. I wondered if this was what it was like to be a princess, like you see in all the cartoons. True loves kiss. But, I didn't love you. So why did I feel so dizzy?
You turned towards me, sitting slightly sideways, and pulled my hand back onto your thing. I didn't bother to resist, but didn't do anything. Your one hand pushed inside me and pulled back out as you continued a long exploration of my mouth. Your other hand reached up, palm pressed against my breasts, and your first two fingers pushed in my shirt, between my buttons.
Sometimes my skin pinched slightly between your fingers and the edge of my underwear, but it wasn't painful.
Undoing one of my buttons, you slipped your entire hand in, reaching inside my bra. You found my nipple, and rubbed it. Mouth, kissing, fingers, pushing inside, other fingers, rubbing and pinching. My body felt like it was on overdrive. My parents, always warning me that men wanted to hurt me. But this wasn't painful, it was blissful.
I will finish this up, but honestly, I need to take a break from it. Too much right now. As for those who are wondering, "is anyone this naive", yes. I had a friend once who one day asked me a "personal" question. Her boyfriend kept bugging her about kissing him. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't. After some gentle questions, I finally had the full picture. See, she had grown up in a very religious family, and her parents had kept her very sheltered. I found out she had been having sex with her bf and had been letting him play with her breasts, cum in her pussy, things like that. The strangest part is, she thought you got pregnant by kissing. She didn't understand sex. No, she wasn't young, she was my age. We had some long discussions about this. I think she came to me more because I was "the exotic foreign friend", and she was worried other Taiwanese would tease her. Plus, I was married, so I must know all the answers to boys. Anyways, yes, some people are this sheltered, and while the internet makes it less common, it still happens.
Anyways, I will try to finish this up later. Hope you like what I have so far.
Friday, May 22, 2015
A little cyber, a little naughty (Some fantasy, some reality)
I see the light tricking in around the edges of the blindfold. Without my vision, all sensation is focused on my pussy, feeling your hard penis thrust into me. The cold glass against my breasts, the heat between my legs. Cold and hot, my nudity on display for anyone who can see, my body being used in front of others if they happen to be in the right place, the right time.
My pussy tightens, once, twice, as I feel myself climax around your penis. My legs weak as pleasure rolls over me. I lose myself in the bliss, as my body rocks back and forth in time with your thrusts. I stand there, yours, to do with my body what you will. Wanting. Thrilling. Desiring. Awash in naughty pleasure. Will you come inside me? I cannot take the pill right now. Risk getting me pregnant? The thought thrills me. The risks. Will you pull out, will I be covered in your cum? Sticky, hot. Running down my naked skin. Dripping slowly. Or will it drip from my pussy. I wait in anticipation.
(After he didn't answer the first two paragraphs, I wrote this this. This one is the true part. No idea if I will do it or not)
And now you leave me, hanging, as I feel the need to put my hands down there. I need to go in the kitchen to start my sons food. The kitchen I am closing my eyes and imagining myself in, naked. Panting. Pressed against that glass. The heat. The cold. The eyes watching me. The window that looks on the same apartment where my neighbor caught me. Shirt up. Hands down there. Working their way in my shorts. In me. His eyes. Catching me. Watching me. Will he be there to catch me if I go in my kitchen. Do something. Press myself against the glass? Let my fingers work? Will he catch me again? Will he watch me? Will I run out of the kitchen? Will I keep my eyes closed, so I don't know if someone is there?
(He finally answered me, deciding to cum inside my pussy. Here is my reply)
I moan as I climax again, feeling you fill me. The hot, sticky cum, warming me. I can feel it, inside me. So deep inside me. I open my eyes, taking the blindfold off. Seeing the neighbor. Watching me. Watching us. I can feel my body shake and tingle as my climax continues. Unable to move away from his watching eyes. From his surprised look. We look into each others eyes. No idea what he is thinking. Not caring. My breasts on full display. Staring. Watching. Breathing. Nothing.
(To add, here is something said to someone else about this post)
I feel like playing with myself. My son is in his room, and I need to start dinner. But, I will be there, in the kitchen. The one I can imagine as I close my eyes. The one where there is risk of the neighbors seeing me, if I am topless. One of them has already caught me, shirt pulled up, hands inside my shorts, working their way inside my pussy. Will he see me again? Will he want to watch me? I don't know. Not sure if I will do anything. Or if I will do everything, there, in my kitchen, with its exposed windows.
My pussy tightens, once, twice, as I feel myself climax around your penis. My legs weak as pleasure rolls over me. I lose myself in the bliss, as my body rocks back and forth in time with your thrusts. I stand there, yours, to do with my body what you will. Wanting. Thrilling. Desiring. Awash in naughty pleasure. Will you come inside me? I cannot take the pill right now. Risk getting me pregnant? The thought thrills me. The risks. Will you pull out, will I be covered in your cum? Sticky, hot. Running down my naked skin. Dripping slowly. Or will it drip from my pussy. I wait in anticipation.
(After he didn't answer the first two paragraphs, I wrote this this. This one is the true part. No idea if I will do it or not)
And now you leave me, hanging, as I feel the need to put my hands down there. I need to go in the kitchen to start my sons food. The kitchen I am closing my eyes and imagining myself in, naked. Panting. Pressed against that glass. The heat. The cold. The eyes watching me. The window that looks on the same apartment where my neighbor caught me. Shirt up. Hands down there. Working their way in my shorts. In me. His eyes. Catching me. Watching me. Will he be there to catch me if I go in my kitchen. Do something. Press myself against the glass? Let my fingers work? Will he catch me again? Will he watch me? Will I run out of the kitchen? Will I keep my eyes closed, so I don't know if someone is there?
(He finally answered me, deciding to cum inside my pussy. Here is my reply)
I moan as I climax again, feeling you fill me. The hot, sticky cum, warming me. I can feel it, inside me. So deep inside me. I open my eyes, taking the blindfold off. Seeing the neighbor. Watching me. Watching us. I can feel my body shake and tingle as my climax continues. Unable to move away from his watching eyes. From his surprised look. We look into each others eyes. No idea what he is thinking. Not caring. My breasts on full display. Staring. Watching. Breathing. Nothing.
(To add, here is something said to someone else about this post)
I feel like playing with myself. My son is in his room, and I need to start dinner. But, I will be there, in the kitchen. The one I can imagine as I close my eyes. The one where there is risk of the neighbors seeing me, if I am topless. One of them has already caught me, shirt pulled up, hands inside my shorts, working their way inside my pussy. Will he see me again? Will he want to watch me? I don't know. Not sure if I will do anything. Or if I will do everything, there, in my kitchen, with its exposed windows.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Taking a shower while the bathroom door was fixed, and other random thoughts
This will cover many things.
First, to all my readers, I apologize that I have not been around. Everything is okay, I have just been busy and focused on other things, not to mention not really feeling all that frisky lately. Hey, it happens, even to me.
So first, let me paint you a little picture of what happened last week.
We have a glass door in our bathroom. Well, this door shattered. No worries, no glass all over. It has two pieces of glass on either side that held the middle glass in. So, no glass everywhere, but of course we were worried that if an outside piece broke, we would end up with a bathroom full of glass.
I think I said glass too much...anyways.
So, we asked our landlord to have it replaced. Last week, two men came over to replace it.
So, what was exciting about it? Well, me being me, I was in a frisky mood. I wrapped myself up in a bath robe and waited for them to show up for the scheduled replacement. See, I heard your ideas before, and decided to try one.
When they arrived, I greeted them wearing a robe and nothing else. While they were in there replacing the door, I told them I needed to shower so I wasn't late for something. They didn't object, but then again, I am not sure they understood what I was trying to tell them. Language barrier and all...
I walked past them into the bathroom and took off my robe. I saw them behind me in the mirror, and I thought they would explode. I barely kept myself from bursting out laughing.
So, I proceeded to take a shower, with the two men staring, then trying not to stare. I can still see their faces.
They were professional, and didn't try anything, but they couldn't help themselves.
It was a normal, boring shower, except for two complete strangers being in the same bathroom. I was shaking so bad I thought they couldn't help but notice.
After, I went in the bedroom (The bathroom is the master bath, so you walk through the bedroom to get to the bathroom) and spent a while getting ready. After, I went in the living room and just played with my son. Guess they probably figured out I didn't need to be anywhere in a hurry. I caught a few snippets of their conversation, and what I could understand made me want to slap them and blush at the same time.
Anyways, it was intoxicating. But, it also made me think. Could you imagine being so open with your body and sexuality that you would do things like answer the door naked? Or have sex while in the same room as a house guest? I can imagine inviting my friend over to hang out, and being bent over the chair, my husband thrusting in me, while I carry on a conversation. But what about the opposite? Go over to someone's house, and when they tell you to make yourself comfortable, you take off all your clothes.
I know that I think different, that my views on sex have been warped, but to me, it wouldn't be a big deal. Then again, it seems like most guys think if a woman is naked or sexual in any way around them, then they need to partake. Most women just freak out. But, imagine if someone was open enough that they could live like that, and not really take societies negative views of sex. Imagine if they had the kind of friends, family, where I can let my husband eat me out while we sit down to a nice dinner.
For some reason, it just turns me on, thinking about sexual behavior in mundane situations involving other people. I have my own limits, and I wouldn't want those crossed, but imagine a nude Friday at work. Going to class in nothing but my panties. Or going to a meeting where I am only wearing a skirt, and no top. Or maybe a top, and no bottom.
Where I don't feel like getting dressed up, so I go for a walk without clothes (and without being raped or arrested).
For some reason, I cannot get these images out of my head. What do you guys think?
"Come in, the door is open!" I yelled at the front door.
She comes in, greeted by the sight of me and my husband having sex. She doesn't even blink an eye at the sight.
"Hey Jennie. Sorry, we were expecting you later. My husband was in the middle of teaching me this new technique he learned."
"No problem. You two just keep going, we can talk while you finish."
He pushes his penis deep inside me again,
"So, did you hear about the smoke coming from the other building?" Jennie asks, while my husband speeds up his thrusts.
"No, what happened?" My eyes go round as he hits my cervix, "Ouch! Don't do that. Slow down."
He slows down as Jennie continues talking, looking me in the eyes. "Well, there was smoke flooding the whole floor, and they said it was not regular smoke, but more like chemical smoke."
She looks over and sees what my husband is doing. "Try pulling out more, make the thrusts longer, instead of so short."
He nods and adjusts his technique. Yes, that was much better, sending shivers up and down my spine as the entire length of his penis rubs against my vaginal lips. "You think they were making drugs?" I ask her.
His hand reaches up and grabs my hair, pulling my head backwards. Jannie winces a little. "No worries, he knows how far to pull without hurting me. Here, let him try you."
She nods, and I move away from him, leaving his hard penis exposed, glistening with my juices.
She positions herself over the chair, where I was, and he grabs a handful of hair.
"See," I tell her, "it may look a bit painful, but he is good at knowing just how far back to pull without killing my neck."
She nods and he lets go. She goes back to the couch while we re-position. Once he enters my pussy, our conversation resumes.
"It might be. I know the called the police. They couldn't find the owner either."
I reach back and pat my husband's thigh. "Okay, finish up. We are going soon and need to get ready." I look back at Jennie. "You look a little sweaty. Want to take a quick shower?"
She nods and starts undressing. "A cool shower sounds great to me."
I nod in understanding as she finishes taking off all her clothes. "So, what happened with the police," I ask her.
"Oh, I am not sure. They are still there. I guess they finally found the owner."
"I guess we will see once they finish," I say, just as I feel my husband's penis twitch inside me, his hot cum filling me.
"Okay, he is all done. Lets go shower up and then we can head out." I take her hand and we go to the bathroom, ready to clean off the sweat from heat and sex.
First, to all my readers, I apologize that I have not been around. Everything is okay, I have just been busy and focused on other things, not to mention not really feeling all that frisky lately. Hey, it happens, even to me.
So first, let me paint you a little picture of what happened last week.
We have a glass door in our bathroom. Well, this door shattered. No worries, no glass all over. It has two pieces of glass on either side that held the middle glass in. So, no glass everywhere, but of course we were worried that if an outside piece broke, we would end up with a bathroom full of glass.
I think I said glass too much...anyways.
So, we asked our landlord to have it replaced. Last week, two men came over to replace it.
So, what was exciting about it? Well, me being me, I was in a frisky mood. I wrapped myself up in a bath robe and waited for them to show up for the scheduled replacement. See, I heard your ideas before, and decided to try one.
When they arrived, I greeted them wearing a robe and nothing else. While they were in there replacing the door, I told them I needed to shower so I wasn't late for something. They didn't object, but then again, I am not sure they understood what I was trying to tell them. Language barrier and all...
I walked past them into the bathroom and took off my robe. I saw them behind me in the mirror, and I thought they would explode. I barely kept myself from bursting out laughing.
So, I proceeded to take a shower, with the two men staring, then trying not to stare. I can still see their faces.
They were professional, and didn't try anything, but they couldn't help themselves.
It was a normal, boring shower, except for two complete strangers being in the same bathroom. I was shaking so bad I thought they couldn't help but notice.
After, I went in the bedroom (The bathroom is the master bath, so you walk through the bedroom to get to the bathroom) and spent a while getting ready. After, I went in the living room and just played with my son. Guess they probably figured out I didn't need to be anywhere in a hurry. I caught a few snippets of their conversation, and what I could understand made me want to slap them and blush at the same time.
Anyways, it was intoxicating. But, it also made me think. Could you imagine being so open with your body and sexuality that you would do things like answer the door naked? Or have sex while in the same room as a house guest? I can imagine inviting my friend over to hang out, and being bent over the chair, my husband thrusting in me, while I carry on a conversation. But what about the opposite? Go over to someone's house, and when they tell you to make yourself comfortable, you take off all your clothes.
I know that I think different, that my views on sex have been warped, but to me, it wouldn't be a big deal. Then again, it seems like most guys think if a woman is naked or sexual in any way around them, then they need to partake. Most women just freak out. But, imagine if someone was open enough that they could live like that, and not really take societies negative views of sex. Imagine if they had the kind of friends, family, where I can let my husband eat me out while we sit down to a nice dinner.
For some reason, it just turns me on, thinking about sexual behavior in mundane situations involving other people. I have my own limits, and I wouldn't want those crossed, but imagine a nude Friday at work. Going to class in nothing but my panties. Or going to a meeting where I am only wearing a skirt, and no top. Or maybe a top, and no bottom.
Where I don't feel like getting dressed up, so I go for a walk without clothes (and without being raped or arrested).
For some reason, I cannot get these images out of my head. What do you guys think?
"Come in, the door is open!" I yelled at the front door.
She comes in, greeted by the sight of me and my husband having sex. She doesn't even blink an eye at the sight.
"Hey Jennie. Sorry, we were expecting you later. My husband was in the middle of teaching me this new technique he learned."
"No problem. You two just keep going, we can talk while you finish."
He pushes his penis deep inside me again,
"So, did you hear about the smoke coming from the other building?" Jennie asks, while my husband speeds up his thrusts.
"No, what happened?" My eyes go round as he hits my cervix, "Ouch! Don't do that. Slow down."
He slows down as Jennie continues talking, looking me in the eyes. "Well, there was smoke flooding the whole floor, and they said it was not regular smoke, but more like chemical smoke."
She looks over and sees what my husband is doing. "Try pulling out more, make the thrusts longer, instead of so short."
He nods and adjusts his technique. Yes, that was much better, sending shivers up and down my spine as the entire length of his penis rubs against my vaginal lips. "You think they were making drugs?" I ask her.
His hand reaches up and grabs my hair, pulling my head backwards. Jannie winces a little. "No worries, he knows how far to pull without hurting me. Here, let him try you."
She nods, and I move away from him, leaving his hard penis exposed, glistening with my juices.
She positions herself over the chair, where I was, and he grabs a handful of hair.
"See," I tell her, "it may look a bit painful, but he is good at knowing just how far back to pull without killing my neck."
She nods and he lets go. She goes back to the couch while we re-position. Once he enters my pussy, our conversation resumes.
"It might be. I know the called the police. They couldn't find the owner either."
I reach back and pat my husband's thigh. "Okay, finish up. We are going soon and need to get ready." I look back at Jennie. "You look a little sweaty. Want to take a quick shower?"
She nods and starts undressing. "A cool shower sounds great to me."
I nod in understanding as she finishes taking off all her clothes. "So, what happened with the police," I ask her.
"Oh, I am not sure. They are still there. I guess they finally found the owner."
"I guess we will see once they finish," I say, just as I feel my husband's penis twitch inside me, his hot cum filling me.
"Okay, he is all done. Lets go shower up and then we can head out." I take her hand and we go to the bathroom, ready to clean off the sweat from heat and sex.
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