Story Time

So, I got to spend all afternoon with Sir. We talked shit. It was the best. We never talk about anything, but we manage to cover everything. And we got to play. Granted, I got to play yesterday morning with him, but I had to be really quiet. When I came, I was as silent as I could be, squeaking and groaning to myself, biting my wrist. It was a good orgasm, too. Really good.

But today was better. He was pissed at first cause I kept moving around and interupting him. He hates it when I interupt him. I can't help it though. I just have so much to say. I would think he would appreciate it more since I am contributing to the common story, but he says, "Fucking stop interupting me! You're pissing me off now."

And then he stops telling me the story and I have to be a really good girl for like a half an hour and be really aware of when I am interupting him and when I do, stop and wait for him to finish, then wait for him to tell me that I can go ahead with what I was saying. So, I got him talking about MY studio and he got really into it. He wanted to tell me a story about us there together.

He started with some lovely gay (this is how we refer to cuddley-love stuff); I love gay. He was learning to draw to surprise me. You see, even though I do it for a living, I could never instruct 'Him' on anything. Nooo way. God forbid I know how to do something better. Grin. But then, he transistioned into some delicious fucking where he wanted me on top of him, riding his cock. I loved this. I was on my belly at the time, legs spread and rocking against my pussy. This always gets me really wet and I can get away with it cause I'm not actually touching anything I shouldn't be touching without permission.

Yesterday, got me feeling kind of guilty though. Here's an excerpt from my email to Sir:

So, I almost did something bad in the bathtub. You know I prefer not to keep things from you, so I am confessing this. I didn't touch or anything, but I was lying under the shower stream thinking about my texts to you. Things I wanted you to do to me. Things I wanted to do to you. I opened my legs and let the water run straight over my clit and it felt so good. I kept telling myself that I wasn't touching and so it was okay. I wanted to cum again. This morning was so fucking good, but I wanted more. So I made the water hotter and hotter, and the inside of my thighs got redder and redder, and my cunt felt so fucking good. But I kept my hands away, played with my tits instead. I nearly came. Nearly. But then I figured, even though I wasn't touching, that would be a big no-no, so I stopped.

But Sir was so good to me, actually giving me brownie points for my email (shit, I just got in trouble for smoking -- now he's listening to music while I work on this Mother Lie) and not punishing me or being angry about the shower incident, so I thought I would be extra good today and ask for everything (instead of just when I can touch my cunt and when I can cum). He was telling me about making me kneel and using my throat when I asked if I could touch inside my thighs.

I took off my panties and my shirt, as I was instructed to do and then laid down on my back and spread my legs, and started petting. I wanted to touch my pussy so much, but I waited while he talked. I love listening to his breathing change. Sometimes he's so quiet and other times louder. Never loud enough, but when I can hear it in his voice that he's really stroking himself, really enjoying his cock like I would, it makes me crave him. My hips tighten and my cunt swells and I want him to fuck me right then.

I ask if I can touch my pussy and he tells me to put my hand flat against it. I think he does this so that I have to wait more, but I can easily grind my cunt against my palm, press my clit to the inside of my hand, my feet flat on the floor, using my hips. My other hand is on my tits, or thighs, or ass. I like to turn to the side and slide my hand down over my ass, along the back of my thighs, tease the inside of my cheeks. I am soaking wet; I know that when I slide my fingers between my cuntlips all my juice is going to saturate my cunt.

He tells me to wait and goes, tell me to keep playing. I hate this. I don't want him to leave me. I try to play while he's gone but I close my eyes and actually try to surpress my panic. Why the fuck am I panicking? I want him so much and he's gone. Now? Why would he go now?

But he's back again; he hears me asking him not to leave. I hadn't meant for that. I wanted to be a good girl and do what I was told. But he says, "I won't leave you. I love you." He hardly ever says he loves me during these moments. I liked hearing it. He tells me more. Tells me that I am his to use, asks me what I am. I say, "Yours, Sir. Your slut, your cunt, your toy. Yours to use." He tells me I'm a good girl. Here's where my details get a little fuzzy...

My state of mind alters in that moment. That moment where I wholly want to be his, totally without my own will, in an insanely devoted way. He could tell me anything at that moment and I would obey. He owns my pain and my pleasure and I am waiting for him to allow me either. I can hear him faintly. I am praying he isn't asking me direct questions because at this point, if I ask him, "What?" he could very well get fucked off and not let me cum. I try to pay attention to his tone; he is saying something like, "I make all the rules. When you sleep, when you eat, when you cum is up to me. Every decision is mine."

I agree. I wanted all of that. I want him to control everything. I want to trust someone that much. Moreover, it does something for me, to me. I constantly fight him because of my own pride and ego, upbringing, need for equality. But in the end, I want this. I don't want to be equal; I spent way too much time in my life on the other end of inequality and never wanted it, never liked it. I want him to tell me how to behave, what to do, what to wear, what to say. I want to be 100% part of him.

More happens; my hands are in my cunt, pressing hard and fast on my clit as I choke on my moans. Fuck I wanted to be fucked. I can hear him. He cums first and I can't breathe; my hips are moving furiously, my fingers pressed hard on my clit and rubbing quickly. I love how he sounds; he knows. I cum soon after, not as vocal as usual, but hard. We had been at it for a good half hour and for a two-minute girl, I was more than ready.

He is nearly silent. It always makes me laugh. Johnny: You always wondered why I laugh afterward? This is what gets me started, so there's some Mother Lie for you. HuhHA! But then, I can hear him say, "Good girl." I like that.

And then he vomited.

Well, that came a little later, but I definitely want it in this entry.