sexblogs

. . . “Do you like being my slut, to use whenever I want? Do you want to be my property?”

Something in my head shifted at that moment. I wanted desperately to submit to him, but couldn’t seem to find the words. My mind was swimming. This was the first time in my life I truly felt I could give myself over to someone else, even if it was only for the brief times that we see each other.

I slowly breathed, “Yes…I want…to be…your slut.” I held him close, wrapping my legs around him.

It felt liberating to be able to sum up in just a few words everything I had been fantasizing about for months. But then I heard myself say, “Why do I trust you so much?”

I immediately regretted it…that was something that was supposed to stay in my head, to ponder later. I could analyze the significance of what had just happened at a later time. However, his response was exactly what I needed to hear.

He pressed his forehead against mine and said, “Because I trust you.”

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…I met Hania at the beginning of the summer. She burst into my dry and repressive summer class with so much energy and enthusiasm that it was hard not to be a bit annoyed at 8:30 in the morning. When we got assigned to do a group project together, I didn’t know what to expect.

Sometime during a procrastination break, I find myself telling her about my sexual proclivities and my phone sex work. She smiles and asks a lot of questions. Then sho bowls me over by revealing that she used to do phone sex work while she lived in London. Here I thought that Hania, a Syrian, might be free-spirited but was another oppressed middle eastern woman. My prejudices were obvious to me almost immediately.

The next week, she came over to our house for a potluck. When the rest of the guests left, she didn’t and the three of us talked late into the night.

I can break the nearly 24 hours we spent together into distinct moments, all of them characterized by arousal and many of them by a distinct longing.

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. . . Kate was reclined in the office chair, strappy heels up on the desk and keyboard in her lap. It’s how she surfs. She smiled and took her feet off the desk one foot well before the other, making sure that I got a good look to see that she was all breezy under her mini-skirt.

Seeing the tops of her stockings clipped into a garter belt certainly didn’t help. The hum spread right through me in an instant. Delicious torture that I wanted to end immediately.

Kate got up and stepped toward me, and as I moved to meet her kiss, she reached up behind me and wrapped her hand in my hair and kissed me harder than she ever has. I think I nearly passed out.

Without warning, she whipped me around and started me out the door towards the bedroom. She didn’t have to coax much. When we got to the bedroom, I threw myself onto the bed, ready and willing, waiting for her to follow.

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Tagged as: sex, sexblog