Wednesday, July 30, 2008

I Know What Boys Like...I Know What Guys Want...

and i'm not nearly as likely to give it to them anymore.

***the following may veer into ranting, and does not pertain to my D/s, or Daddy, directly***

i have had it up to here with the boys i spend time with or even come into casual contact with, thinking i should be constantly going out of my way for them.

i was chatting with Ry today online, and mentioned that i had off of work tonight. i told him if he wanted to see me then maybe we could meet up tonight. he responded with "do you want to see me?" ummmm, yeah, that's why i just said that...then i asked him what he wanted to do this evening. and he asks "is there anything you'd like to do?" grrrrrr..."nothing in particular."

And that's when i began to get really fucking irritated. i ask if you wanna hang out, and then i'm supposed to reiterate that i want to hang out? then, i ask what we could do for the evening, and i get "i have to paint the deck of my car". not "we can go to the movies" or "dinner " or anything. And then...then!!!...he tells me to jump in the shower so i can catch the two (2!!!) trains i have to take to get to his place!!

i asked if he was picking me up, and he said it was in the wrong direction from his way home from work. i. am. livid. he's got no idea for anything to do, beyond fucking me, and he wants me to take the trains to see him, with the layover being in Camden, which is consistently at the top of the nation's murder and drug crime rates (i'm talking #1 year in year out). plus! he always wants me to dress up in heels and thigh highs and shit, and then sit there waiting for the next train with the homeless, crackheads, rapists, etc.

but the best part, THE BEST PART, is that recently my girlfriend, Astrid, asked me to move in with her. she's gonna be getting her own place in South Philly, near the Italian Market. it's very tempting, and i told her i'd think about it. i mentioned it to Ry and he bemoaned the fact that he'd never see me. i reminded him it was a 10 minute drive over the bridge, and he could easily take the train if he didn't want to drive. But no, he doesn't like to take the train, and he doesn't want to deal with parking in the city. and these are all very good reasons for me to get a car...and blah blah blah...


...deep breathes, deep breathes.....

and, ya know, it probably wouldn't be bothering me too much, except that Astrid and i went out this past weekend. we had a great time together, together being the operative word. when i tried to talk to any of the guys, or girls for that matter, i got the most vapid non-conversation. i couldn't believe it! when did people stop bothering to be interesting or funny? i'm standing there being charming, and amusing, and putting my best self forward...and nothing. i'm having a conversation with a wall. one of the guys i met was supposedly a writer, for chrissake! even he couldn't muster an interesting story! i'm not expecting miracles here, just give me something to work with!

i'm completely disgusted. i do not need to work that hard. buying me a drink does not guarantee you my phone number. i'm worth more than that. i'm more valuable than that. i'm not like other girls. and i am not putting up with these...boys...getting the benefit of me without me believing they're worth it. they aren't even trying anymore, and their luck has run out.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Bizarre Love Triangle ...A Cuckold Fantasy

I pull up to the Victorian duplex where my girlfriend lives; parking alongside the curb squeezing into the only open space. It sits on the corner of a dead end little lane and the main street of town. She and 3 friends of hers share the second and third floors of this rundown, creaking dowager of a house. It appeals to their starving artist boho aesthetic to live in decadent squalor.

The owner/landlord, Anthony, lives in the first floor apartment, and the parking spot I've secured is right outside his brightly lit kitchen. As I turn off the engine I look into his kitchen window and see he has company. He's sharing a beer with a friend of his, Bobby, whom I've met before. They sit at the kitchen table, but are not talking to each other, they're laughing at something on the other side of the kitchen that i can't see from my vantage point.

I'm about to get out of the car when i see who they've been listening to. My girlfriend steps into the space framed by the window. They must have invited her spur of the moment because her hair is thrown up into a ponytail, and she's wearing her "hanging around the apartment clothes"; a white wife beater and a pair of my boxers. Even from the street I can see her braless nipples through the thin material.

She walks towards the table where Anthony and Bobby are sitting, moving her hands to illustrate her story. When she reaches the table her back is towards me, and she comes to the punchline of her story, throwing her head back and laughing. She doesn't see the look the two friends give each other as they join in her amusement with an amusement that has nothing to do with the tale she's regaled them with. Their eyes are devouring her body, and I can see that they're practically twisting in their chairs.

Anthony gains a bit of courage and reaches out for her waist, scoots his chair back from the table, and pulls her onto his lap. It's meant to be friendly and playful on the surface, but the way he crooks his arm around her hip once she's settled on top of him is far from platonic. Bobby starts telling his own story, but from the way Anthony's fingers are sliding up and down my girlfriend's thighs i doubt he's even listening.

Anthony's other hand slips up her waist and settles on her ribcage just under her left breast, and he whispers something into her ear. Smiling broadly, my girlfriend twists in Anthony's lap to face Bobby, and spreads her thighs. Bobby stops telling his story and watches as Anthony's right hand disappears up the leg of my girlfriend's boxer shorts, while his left hand cups her breast tugging her nipples through the fabric with his thumb and forefinger.

I can feel the familiar tingling spread through my cock as I watch. Heat runs down the length of my shaft, and I press my hand over my jeans at the growing stiffness. Now I'm shifting in my seat, looking to see if there's anyone around to catch me if I were to take it out. The house is on the outer edge of town, but it's summer and people like to hang out on their porches and go for walks around here. For the moment I content myself with unbuttoning and unzipping, but don't pull my cock out...yet.

In the few moments my attention was distracted my girlfriend's top has been pushed up over her tits, and Anthony's right hand is now pushed down the waistband of her boxers. Her eyes are closed with the back of her head on Anthony's shoulder, face pointed to the ceiling, her hands gripping the sides of his hips. Bobby has leaned in closer paying rapt attention to the show. The table's in the way, so I can't tell if Bobby has his cock out, but his shoulder is moving in a distinctive back and forth motion.

When Anthony stands her up and pulls off her boxers I can't resist any longer, and dig my cock out of my pants. I can feel my pulse pounding against my damp palms, and I squeeze the base of my cock, twisting my wrist and relishing that first tight stroke. Anthony bends my girlfriend over and she supports herself on her elbows, left foot on the floor, right leg bent across the table. Her chest hovers over the edge with her mouth inches away from Bobby's crotch. I can't see if she's wet, but I know she wants to get fucked when she wiggles her ass in Anthony's direction.

My breathing is rugged watching my girlfriend get double stuffed. I feel like I'm going to burst out of my skin with lust. My entire body is tensed, poised to erupt. Jealousy, desire, and voyeuristic fascination combine to become a hunger for her I have never felt before.

That whore, that insatiable slut! So hungry for cock. Is that what she needs? A cock in every hole? I'll fuck you slut, I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk the next day. I'll tear you. I'll bruise you. You want it in your ass don't you? You filthy slut, you fucking filthy slut. I'll give you meat for that hungry cunt! You're gonna be raw. You're gonna hurt. You're gonna FEEL THIS! Is that too much for you, little slut? You can't take it? You're gonna take it! Take it, take it, TAKE IT!

Thursday, July 10, 2008

I Try

Daddy has been unbelievably busy as of late. He's amassing a vast empire in his field, and it's requiring alot of his attention. He's making large strides, and as much as i miss him, i'm really happy to see his ambitions coming to fruition. It's awesome in its most literal meaning.

That's not to say that i didn't feel the strain of his absence. It's been difficult to deal with the coldness and reserve that is Daddy's natural personality which only becomes more austere when read in infrequent text messages, i.m. chats, and the even rarer email. This can be particularly difficult when it isn't tempered with visits that reassure me that he does want me, like me, occasionally spares a thought for me, and doesn't just want to be rid of me. my natural insecurities made me think all sorts of dire scenarios.

And, at the same time, i knew he was busy. Very, very busy. And i kept my growing concerns to myself, and attempted to distract myself. i hung out with Ry a coupla times, worked alot, and developed a new craft project for myself. Still, i was miserable.

i am loathe to bother Daddy with every little apprehension that enters into my head. i am acutely aware of even the most permissive of situations. More often than not, any anxiety on my part dissipates when i spend a bit of time with him. Daddy makes it allllll

But i was hesitating to talk to him about this. He's not particularly fond of confrontation, and i didn't want him to think i wasn't understanding the pressure and immediacy all of his projects require. i didn't want to sound whiny or naggy. Daddy would react to that by shutting down, and it wouldn't be a proper representation of what i was going through anyway. Knowing how to talk to Daddy may be one of my most useful skills.

There were some false starts, a bit of misunderstanding, then some clarification, some reminding of "understandings", and then resolution. Yeah! Viva la Resolution! lol

Daddy said he would keep in mind that while i completely understand about his time constraints, and that i feel that i.m.-ing and texts are certainly a viable, albeit limited, substitute for actual visits, i would feel infinitely better about being apart so much if he remembered to treat me sweetly. i had been missing the "princess"s and the "wink" and "smile" emoticons. i know it may sound trivial, but i needed him to say i was good. i needed some validation.

And what a difference in my outlook when he finally told me he thought that i was being very good. That i was being a patient girl, and that was what he needed right now. That he still wanted to play with me, tho there really wouldn't be time for that for a while. D/s requires time, and time is at a premium for Daddy, and i'm willing to forgo the hardcore D/s "scening".

i commented on how "easy" i am, and Daddy agreed. There are few subbies who would be happy with as little attention as i'm paid. And i am happy. Especially when the attention i do receive is praise and appreciation for my patience and "good"-ness. And with the possibility of seeing Daddy in the near future, there may even be some hot material to report... ;)

Fingers crossed! :)