Claiming (3/?): “Go pantiless after.”
I suppose I should finish what I started... wrote most of this a while ago.
These events occurred circa. October 2009. Read part 1 and part 2.
[via Maria's Photo]
Day #2, continued.
The first thing he wanted to do was make use of me being so turned on. We had moved back to email now, and I sat there, waiting eagerly for him to tell me what he wanted me to do.
I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped when I read his next message: he wanted me to find a restroom to masturbate in, and wanted me to go pantiless after I was done.
Just picture it, will you, for a moment? Me, unassuming in my grey puffball dress, walking through the library - which was silent except for the occasional rustle of pages, filled with students intent on their work. Me, filled with so much nervousness and excitement that I was practically sizzling with emotion...
I went down the stairs, floating in a dizzy haze, and found the restroom. I entered the biggest cubicle, took off my boots, took off my leggings, finally took off my panties. I folded them nicely and set them down, then set about getting myself off.
It didn't take me very long. I was already soaking wet and had mental fodder enough... but the thing that kept playing over and over in my head was the word used. How Sir wanted to use me, how he wanted me to feel sore and exhausted and worn out and used, used, used...
This library was one of the less "popular" ones, and so the restroom was completely empty, and also silent. Every breath, every slide of my fingers inside me and back out were clearly audible, and I hoped and hoped that nobody would walk in until I finished.
I was lucky. Just as I felt my orgasm begin to swell, somebody loudly pushed the door open.
I gave myself a few moments to calm down before I pulled my leggings and boots back on and tucked my panties into my jacket pocket. My leggings were made of silk, and I could feel the material against my damp pussy - cool and soft.
I walked slowly and self-consciously back to my spot. I sat down and immediately sent Sir a message, telling him I had done what he asked.
His next demand was that I take a picture of my panties with my phone and send it to him. I considered walking back to the restroom and taking the picture there, after a quick look around I realized that so few people were in the library that no one would notice if I took the picture right where I was. I quickly took my panties out of my pocket, crunched them in my hand, and shoved my hand under the desk. I opened my hand, clearly displaying the panties (unfortunately, white with bright pink stars and, for some reason, Superman logos on them) and snapping a picture.
He had a few more instructions for me for the rest of the day. He wanted me to find a collar or choker of some sort that I could wear when I was doing tasks that he set me. I had a cloth choker, which he told me to use. He asked me what the rest of my day looked like. I didn't have anything to do except go to dinner with a friend. He told me that I had to excuse myself during dinner and bring myself off again.
Shortly before dinner, I went back to my room to look for the choker, that I hadn't worn at all before this. I couldn't find it in my dresser or among my clothes. I took down the storage boxes from the top shelf of my closet, and rifled through them, then grumbled loudly in frustration.
The choker wasn't there.
I checked all the drawers and boxes over again. I was so frustrated. Sir wanted me to use that choker, and I wanted to use the choker, but the choker was not there. I wanted to try my hardest to do what he wanted me to do, but I couldn't, since I guessed that I must have left it back home, halfway across the globe. (An email to my sister asking her about it later confirmed my suspicion.)
I apologetically told him about what happened. He immediately reassured me, and asked if I had anything else. I was relieved. He knew I don't like being talked down to or humiliated, and I'm glad he remembered and didn't do either of those things. He ended up choosing a simple bracelet - silver with a plain amethyst clasp - for me to wear when I was submitting to him.
Soon I had to go to dinner, so I put on the bracelet and went over to my friend's place... It soon proved that excusing myself to get myself off would be difficult. My friend wanted some advice on a problem, so I felt bad about interrupting her. Eventually our conversation wound down, so I went to do what Sir had asked.
My friend didn't live in a dorm, she lived in an off-campus house. She directed me to the bathroom... it was right next to the kitchen, and the door didn't lock. Great. I had to hold the door shut with one hand, and I could hear everyone talking and hanging out in the kitchen. Using my fingers against my clit, there was no way I was going to come, I was too distracted.
I had come twice that day already, but Sir wanted me to have come three times. He'd be making me pay for that transgression later...
To be continued...
Nonmonogamy -> Monogamy. An orientation, or a choice?
If you've been keeping up with my ramblings on my relationship with J, you'll know that I've been going through some trouble figuring out if I could be happy in a closed monogamous relationship. I was concerned about this before we even got together, and initially thought that I should figure it out before starting a relationship with him, but clearly I ended up doing the opposite. I'm not going to say whether I was right or wrong on that count, I think in the long run it would have made little difference, and anyway that isn't the point.
What brought everything to a head and prompted me to finally resolve my feelings was Girl telling me that she was still attracted to me. She said that after we started hooking up, she wanted to start something deeper with me but decided to wait until after she had graduated and had gotten settled down at her new place. (We started sleeping together right before she graduated. Typical.) She knew I had started dating J, and didn't want to jeopardize what I had with him, but wanted to know how I felt about cybering/hooking up with her outside of my relationship with him. I told her I would think about it and talk to J.
All this made me finally pose the question to myself: do I want/need to be in an open/poly relationship? Or not?
Click on the "continue reading" button on the bottom right of this post.
Claiming (2/?): “Assume the position.”
These events took place circa. October 2009. Read part 1 here.
Day #2
Two days later, on a typically doleful Monday, I was at work when Sir emailed me. He was at work, too, and was having a stressful day. He asked me if I was up to helping him "relieve himself." I agreed at once - both excited to see what was to come and glad to escape my own humdrum day, if just for a little while.
He asked if I had done anything to warrant a spanking, and I told him a few "bad" things I had done over the past few days. Slept through class. Behind on work. The usual transgressions. He said that I should take my academics more seriously, and then asked that I "assume the position": all fours, face down. He wanted me to feel vulnerable. I was familiar with how that position felt - it made me feel exposed - but tantalizingly so - imagining the gaze of my lover wandering down my body, taking in everything.
Sir started spanking me, again: harsh swats that stung and reddened up my skin. He built up a rhythm until he was happy with the hue of my behind, then soothed my burning skin with his hands.
At the library front desk, I bit my lip and shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in my seat. My eyes were fixed on the computer screen - utterly intent on it. I hoped that the head librarian wouldn't suddenly come by to fetch something, as she sometimes did, because I didn't want to interrupt our session by having to hurriedly minimize my email in order to hide it.
He resumed spanking me, letting his fingers land between my legs, moving on to heavier blows... I let him know how turned on I was, and imagined what I'd do if this was really happening - gasp, squeal, half-attempting to escape from his blows and half-arching towards his touch; wanting and detesting the mix of pleasure and pain at the same time.
By then, my work shift had come to an end and I had to leave to do some errands. I told Sir, and so we switched to text messages. It was so unbelievably hot to do something as mundane as stand in line to pick up some packages, but with my thumbs flying over the keypad of my cell-phone, attempting to settle my facial expression into a non-incriminating configuration that did not betray what I was doing, heat pooling at my clit...
Sir began probing me, pressing his fingers inside me as he continued landing slaps all over my behind. I was both embarrassed and intensely aroused, groaning, overwhelmed with sensations. He rocked his hand as I rocked back into him, then pulled his fingers out and rubbed my clit, using his other hand to pull my hair so my head snapped back uncomfortably.
And then he took his cock out, the cock that I had never seen but knew was thick and substantial, according to what he had told me, and that I knew would stretch and fill me wonderfully... He pulled my body towards him, sinking himself into me. I tried my muffle my moans until he asked me to stop... half-reluctantly I took my knuckles out of my mouth and let my moans and choking cries fill the room. He pounded into me until he was about to go over the edge... then pulled out just as he came, spurting his come all over my back, leaving me limp, shuddering, and sated...
The end of our tryst found me in the library again, this time getting ready to do some homework... but so wet, bothered and distracted that I could barely even focus on the readings in front of me; my mind filled with gorgeous, filthy images as a result of what had just happened between us.
But things did not end there - Sir had more in store for me: he wanted to stake a claim on me. It was early afternoon and the day still stretched on before us, and Sir gave me a list of things that he wanted me to accomplish before going to sleep.
To be continued...
Claiming (1/?): “I want to brutalize you.”
These events took place circa October 2009.
Recently, I found a hot new person to play with. Well - "new" is not entirely correct. We've known each other for quite a while, but this is the first time he has expressed desire for me. Sure, we flirted casually with each other in the past, but I never thought there was anything behind the words. (I suppose it didn't help that both of us were dating other people at the time.)
But apparently there is.
There is something so intense and exciting about interacting sexually with someone who you are emotionally connected to, but have previously only been platonic with. Typically, I do hook up with people I know, at least, and then get to know them better after hooking up with them because, well, I prefer to have some kind of relationship with the people I'm hooking up with, but I rarely have been close friends with someone and then added a sexual dimension to our friendship.
And, obviously, I've wanted him for quite a while. Which makes this even better.
But this is also a little aggravating.
Because he graduated a year ago and no longer lives here.
In fact, he lives far, far away, and I don't even know when we'll be in the same place again.
Why does this always happen!?
...Anyway, the fuzzy, good feelings definitely outweigh the bad. Knowing that someone I want, wants me as well? And actually has wanted me for a while? That is pretty damn awesome.
I ended up long-distance subbing for him for one short, but wonderful, week. Only a week because he ended up not having enough time to put into it as he wanted. He does have a job and a life, after all. I was disappointed, but glad that anything even happened between us at all...
---
Day #1
It all started when I sent him an email saying that I had had a sexy dream about him. Which wasn't really anything more risque than anything we had said to each other before. But later, we found each other on IM and he told me what an ego-stroke that email was.
I elaborated for him: I dreamt that I was naked; he pushed me over the arm of a couch, spanked and groped me, and made me get him off.
He told me that that sounded like something he would do. Except he'd probably jerk off on me instead. Or fuck me, because he has never fucked me before.
Hmm. This was a change. Sure we'd "talked dirty" a little to each other before, but it had never gone on for this long, or gotten this far.
Soon, he was reddening up my ass and scratching over my back. He shoved my head into the couch cushions, held me down, took his cock out and started touching me.
Gulp. It was at this point that I reached into my shorts. And realized that I was dripping wet.
He told me how much he loved my shapeliness - my ass and my narrow waist; how he wanted to brutalize me and leave me bruised; how he wanted to pull my hair and force me to my knees and have me worship his cock...
"If you're good," he said, "you get to put it in your mouth."
This was a change for me. It's not often that I get turned on by being talked down to. Most of the time it actually pisses me off. But this was different, this wasn't some guy, this was him, and I surprised myself by how much I wanted to please him; how much I wanted to suck his cock...
Then he pushed me over, fucking me hard from behind, not trying to get me off, but wanting to make me feel owned... If I began to come he'd interrupt it with a scratch or spank. "You need to feel used up," he told me.
Our conversation shifted to other things then, and after a while I had to go offline because I was going to visit a friend.
But one important thing I gleaned from this was: he really wanted to fuck me. He desired me. What a good thing to know.
I had been touching myself the entire time we were talking. I thought that the conversation was a one time thing, a result of chance and mutual horniness, but it would turn out that I was wrong...
To be continued...
Microfantasy Monday: Long Distance
Wow. It's been a while. Coming back with a theme I like a lot though - long distance.
You're clutching the dildo in one hand. The phone in the other. The one is slipping in and out of you, and the other is almost slipping from your grasp. You hold onto it, wedging it into your shoulder and pushing it close to your ear.
On the other end of the line is panting. Rough, harsh breaths. In-out.
The two of you were having a normal enough conversation until you let slip that you were lounging around in your underwear, something about the heat, and he teasingly asked you what kind you had on, and you told him. Cotton. Floral. Cute. From Victoria's Secret.
And the one short answer turned into a long spiel of how your body sprawled over the bed, how your lightly sweaty limbs were positioned. You traced a hand over yourself and let him follow it, from your hips, down to the dip in your waist to your chest to your hair.
He groaned. Talked you into putting your hand inside your panties. Practically guided your fingers inside you with his voice. In no time at all, you were both panting and thrusting in a chorus that was stretched over 600 miles. Spouting nonsense words:
"God!"
"Your pussy--"
"You feel --"
"s'so good--"
"amazing..."
He insinuates your other hand into your bra and pulls the dildo out of your drawer and tells you to imagine him. Imagine it's him doing all this to you.
You do. And then a few seconds of ragged breath - and you come. And the phone skitters, clatters, to the floor.
Got a sex fantasy? Microfantasy Monday is by Sweltering Celt and rules can be found here.
HNT: Leather
Yeah, it's a little late. I just got back to college after the worst flight ever (lots of snow and bad weather and delays...) and have been busy settling back in, etc. But here you go:
One of the great things about my vacation? The thrift store shopping. I bought this beautiful leather coat for $10 at a Goodwill. I feel like I'm in the Matrix when I wear it 
And it's warm enough to stave away the 35*F cold here!
Visiting the Actor was wonderful - it's a gorgeous city that's just at the right point between sprawling metropolis and quaint suburbs. A shoreline, superb public transport and a warm climate. My kind of city.
I didn't sleep with the Actor, the Emperor, or his gf while I was there. Not only because of it being, um, that time of the month for me, but because of other factors. The Actor's relationship with his bf is becoming more serious, which I'm as happy about. And the Emperor's and my living situations made it difficult to bring anyone home, since we were staying with friends and all.
But when I left, the Emperor wrapped me in a big, long hug and said he would keep in touch.
Seeing them all again was great. And it brought some kind of resolution that made returning to college without them somehow easier.
Anticipation/Apprehension
If, after this post, I disappear for a while or my updates are sort of sporadic, it's because I'm travelling or back at college and busy moving back in, settling down again, etc. I also have to figure out how I'm going to schedule blogging around my classes and jobs. I've a substantially busier life in the US than on my Caribbean exchange...
---
In about 6 hours, I'll be on a plane back to the US.
During the two weeks I've spent at home, I met a few of my old high school friends. With some of them I could pick up from the place we left off the last time we saw each other, be it a year or a few months, and with others we found that after catching up on each other's news we had nothing left to talk about. Nothing like resorting to chatting about memories and old times to make you feel like you're no longer a part of each other's lives.
For a while I thought it was easier to stay in touch with friends when you were able to meet each other in person every now and again, but that's not entirely true. I've kept better touch with certain friends who I met and continue to interact with online, but have only met in person one or two times, than with certain friends I went to high school with for years at a time. Even though we're not in the same place, we still have loads to tell each other.
When I meet close friends again after a long period of time, I look forward to it but I also worry. About whether or not our relationship would have changed and not be as good as it used to be; about whether or not the other person had 'forgotten' about me a little bit after so long. Because forgetting inevitably happens when you don't contact each other or think about each other much.
I'm going to visit the Actor, the Emperor and his gf. The few months that we were apart, I missed them and was immensely happy about the chance to see them again, but as my departure grew closer, I almost wished I wasn't going there after all. Because if I met them again only to realize we no longer had a connection and be disappointed, I'd rather just live with the memories. Not only that, but since I'll only be with them for a few days, I know that I'll be ecstatic to see them and then very sad once I have to leave and not be able to see them again for... who knows? A few months again maybe, at best?
Now that I'm going to see them in a matter of hours, however, my excitement is back. I really really want to believe that the Actor and I will be able to preserve our unique brand of friendship no matter how much time and distance is between us. I imagine him meeting me in the airport, grinning madly at each other, talking at a mile a minute while we go back to his place, and then cuddling on his couch like a pair of lovebirds.
The Emperor? I imagine his sardonic smile, our self-satisfied snark and banter ricocheting off each other, my being able to be happy to see him without pining after him anymore, and hopefully raunchy sex that will send me into a sexcoma for several hours.
And afterwards, I'll be heading back to college. Where I'll be seeing Christopher and K again. I've missed them both to bits but I'm not exactly looking forward to dealing with the ambiguous terms that we left each other on. Things will probably be easier with K, since he's just likes to let things roll and see what happens, and I hope I can be fine with that, and not come back absolutely besotted with him or something. And despite the cyber-shenanigans me and Christopher have engaged in while I've been gone, the last time we chatted we had a long talk where he said he wasn't sure whether or not sleeping with each other again would be a good idea. I wasn't surprised - it wasn't as if I expected to just continue being fwbs just because we Gtalked each other to orgasm a couple of times. The thing is that I've no idea what I want to do when I get back, either. I don't know what I'm going to say to him. And I don't know if I'll know what I want even after getting back and seeing him in person 
Crossing my fingers that things will work out okay.
“Body like a battleaxe”
Remember when I said that the Emperor sent me a series of hot emails that I very much wanted to post, but decided not to? Well, I think I can get around the whole consent issue by writing the imagined scenario from my point of view instead.
---
[via Viviane]
"Were I to dom you, Wilhelmina..." he said in his email...
We're in that room, in the basement. I'm sitting in the middle of the floor on a stool with my hands on my knees; and even though I'm fully clothed I feel completely naked. You're circling me, slowly, and I know you don't want me to move so I'm trying not to, but it's difficult. Your gaze is so intense and it makes me feel self-conscious. I want to look away, but I can't...
Finally you say something.
"Close your eyes."
Relief. My eyes flutter shut but almost immediately I want to open them again. I want to know what you're going to do. But I make myself keep them shut; I make myself obey.
I gasp in surprise when I feel your fingertips lightly trace along my shoulders and up my neck. You're barely touching me but every movement is electric. I can hear you breathe now, as you bring your cheek close to mine. Not even skin brushing skin. Merely the fine hairs on your face displacing mine.
I'm tense. I want to move but I'm utterly unable to.
And then you're dipping your hands under my shirt, easing it up my body and over my head. My bra soon comes off as well. A few seconds of breathless nothing - I can feel your gaze raking over my naked back - and then you're sweeping my long hair over my left shoulder.
My eyes are still clamped shut when I feel your mouth on the small of my back. I yelp. Your soft, warm lips and sharp teeth graze my skin all the way up my spine until you reach my neck. At which point you bite and suck hard at my tender shoulders and throat. Tasting me.
I groan, letting my head tilt back ever so slightly, feeling myself start dripping. God, I want you so bad, and I want to tell you as much...
Then your hands. They press against my quivering thighs, run over them and my hips, my stomach and stop at my naked breasts. You tease my nipples between... your thumb and forefinger, probably... so lightly, while you continue to bite me roughly enough to make me cry out.
"Are you aroused?" Your voice is velvet and liquid sex and dark, dark chocolate.
"Yes," I mutter. You pull me to my feet briefly to ease my skirt and panties off.
"Then touch yourself - tease your clit out. Don't masturbate. Just make yourself ready."
My mouth is a thin, straight line. I've only touched myself in front of another person once, and that was only for a few brief seconds. Nevertheless, I move one hand from my knee to reach in between my legs and rub myself. Soon I'm swelling, standing to attention. Meanwhile, you're moving my legs, spreading them apart, and tying my ankles securely to the back legs of the stool.
You're in front of me; I can feel it. The silence twists itself around us like a snake. My eyelids have flickered so many times since you told me to keep them closed but I've managed to not fully open them. Yet.
I feel your hand at the small of my back, your breath on my vulnerable chest and then - god - your tongue on my nipples, laving one, then the other, and then your lips wrap around it instead. Sucking. I try hard not to whimper, biting my bottom lip hard.
You stand back up again and I'm panting and you're pulling my hands away from where I was still caressing myself. And you bring my arms behind my back, tying my wrists together as firmly as my ankles. Before I can even hazard a guess at what's going to come next I feel your tongue, again - on my clit now - slick and wet and quick and maddening. I swear you're making figure-eights with your tongue. (If you're supposed to be domming me, why does it still feel like I'm being serviced?) I want desperately to thrust against your face but I can't because of the rope, the damn rope.
I'm panting hard when you withdraw again and almost shriek in frustration.
I give a wholly different kind of shriek when the first blow from the riding-crop hits home.
You strike my breasts, my sides, my pussy with sharp, smart thwips, and with every strike I have to press my lips together harder to stop the cries that threaten to escape. The crop stings when it hits my sensitive folds, but then why - why - am I getting closer and closer to coming?
You rip my orgasm away from me when you stop spanking my pussy and instead move behind me. You make sure to move my arms further up my back before raining blows onto my lower back and ass. You're not holding back now. I can tell. Each strike has a crisp, audible slap to it, and feels like fire. My jaw is slack - my mouth is open and wordless and I can practically feel my skin rising into red welts all over.
After what seems like hours, you stop. I hear the crop falling to the floor and a soft bump as you fall to you knees behind me. Your hands are at my hips, and you ghost light caresses over me - caresses as light as your blows were rough.
I assume that you're done and I let myself relax. Big mistake. Before I'm even aware of what's happening, two of your fingers are deep inside my dripping cunt. You hook your fingers, pumping me, your fingers banging hard against my walls. And I'm moaning. My eyes are open wide and I'm hoarsely moaning. You're standing now and I can feel your ample breasts against my back. Your breath is hot in my ear.
Yes. Yes. Yes. More. You continue pounding me relentlessly and when I finally come, I scream.
A few fuzzy moments later your hand is in front of my face and I'm licking it clean. And then you come in and kiss me properly.
Me: "That was... wonderfully hot. And so, so perfectly fitting. And I'm going to be horribly distracted for the rest of the evening"
Him: "Always glad to be of service."
Adventures in Digital: “Sweet fucking agony.”
The first AiD can be found here.
Yeah, it's been a while. This chat is probably from about a month ago. Only posting it now because recently I've been thinking about Christopher - and fantasizing about him - a fair amount.
Him putting me over his lap, yanking down my underwear and spanking me with his hand or with something flat and hard, as I'm reduced to overwhelmed, painpleasured tears.
Me lying spreadeaged on my bed, face up, arms and legs restrained. (I really must invest in the Under the Bed Restraints that everyone is talking about.) Blindfolded with no idea of what to expect. Laid bare for him to do whatever he wants with. His to tease, with hands and tongue and toys, until I'm begging him to let me come.
Me fucking him from behind, shoving his face into the mattress as a gag muffles his moans.
Me straddling his face, pushing my clit into his mouth.
Over the weekend I found myself envisioning these things and masturbating to them. I never usually envision myself. I tend to fantasize about anonymous, hot people, or people I have been with before. I think being able to picture us doing some of those things is a step to getting over my whole embarrassment surrounding them.
I probably wouldn't ask, or let, or trust, anyone else do most those of things to me besides Christopher.
---
Christopher: wondering what you were thinking about
Wilhelmina: i was actually thinking about what i'm like when i come. at that precise moment
Christopher: fantastic. i'm pretty sure i have a series of different reactions to cumming. sometimes it feels explosive, and other times it feels like a velvet sin escaping my body. sometimes it's part of a grand motion and i'm very noisy and arching. and other times it's a small part of the whole motion, because i'm so absorbed in the act of entangling with another person.
Christopher: i'd like to make you come in different ways, all in a row… spanking, teasing, licking, fingering, fucking, anal-fucking, dildo-fucking me as the strap-on rubs you into orgasm
Wilhelmina: i've tried to imagine getting spanked by you and it's very difficult... but i'm really looking forward to it...
Christopher: i think i would really enjoy turning you over and spanking you. though i think i would give into temptation and alternately spank you, and then slide my fingers into you. maybe ass, maybe pussy, depending on how naughty i'm feeling.
Wilhelmina: unpredictability is a plus, my dear. teasing, sometimes, is also a plus
Wilhelmina: trying to picture if i would be draped across your lap or splayed on all fours in front of you
Christopher: i'd make sure your legs were spread wide by tapping your thighs lightly… and then hold one hand up high so you could see it from the corner of your eye… and then spank you with the other hand, when you were anticipating the other one
Wilhelmina: i would probably make a muffled noise even if i tried not to… embarrassinnnnng.
Christopher: making noise is good. your restraint is sultry too. i remember you biting one of your knuckles when you came one time
Wilhelmina: more often than not i end up with my knuckle/fingers in my mouth because i don't want to make noise... but need to release pressure somehow. or by grabbing hard onto the sheets, or onto skin
Christopher: i'm a moaner, i have to admit
Wilhelmina: it's very hot
Christopher: it's kinda embarrassing sometimes
Wilhelmina: no, i really like your noises.
Christopher: i can't help them, most of the time-- it's like the feeling of sliding inside you has to escape somehow
Wilhelmina: i think we made the bed move a couple times when we had sex in my room...
Christopher: yeah, we definitely make it do some wacky creaking. and hit the walls
Wilhelmina: mmm i really like fingering you btw
Christopher: i like the feeling of your finger in me-- it's so tight and intrusive, but so powerful-- it feels like it's running up my entire body
Christopher: okay, dammit, i need to finger myself now
Wilhelmina: i wish i could hear you. i could probably come just from listening to your pants and gasps and moans and murmurs
Christopher: mmm, i'm rubbing myself.
Wilhelmina: i'm imagining the taste and feel of your cock on my tongue.
Christopher: your tongue always felt so warm and slick. and your hands, reaching...
Wilhelmina: sucking you... while one of my fingers is circling your asshole, rubbing softly
Christopher: ahh… i'm looking imploringly at you and groping for your body as well
Wilhelmina: i look up at you and slide my finger inside you... slowly... tantalizingly. i curl my finger up slightly. and then start moving it in and out. slowly. gently
Wilhelmina: what do you want?
Christopher: my cock twiches as you curl your finger… you feel so hard inside me
Wilhelmina: i'm still sucking on your cock. sucking and running my tongue over it
Christopher: i want you to fuck me softly while... ahh, yesss, while sucking on my cock
Wilhelmina: moving my fingers faster now. feeling the pressure of your insides on them, pushing against them
Christopher: faster, god, so hard to keep up typing and not come with you doing all this to me
Wilhelmina: i want to taste your come. feel it spill out from my lips. and feel your ass clench and squeeze my fingers out of you
Christopher: oh, fuck, you're going to make me come so soon… it’s embarrassing
Wilhelmina: three fingers now, as deep as they can go. i swallow you. swallowing and plunging into you at the same time... intoxicating
Christopher: fuckfuckfuck… three fingers is a LOT. and your mouth is going to make me melt
Wilhelmina: i plunge in hard and come out fast, and plunge in again
Christopher: i can't hold back from moaning
Wilhelmina: god, i love your moans. i suck you as deep as i can and spread your legs, fucking you
Christopher: i'm squirming and thrusting and pulling back all at the same time.
Wilhelmina: i want to make it so you can't decide whether to push back or thrust into my mouth
Christopher: sweet fucking agony. my ass is burning and feels so sweet from your fingers. and i can't believe how hard i am
Wilhelmina: i love the feeling of your ass and cock. i twist and flex my fingers inside if you, searching... trying to feel all of you… and suck up your dick, and swallow it again, swirling my tongue
Christopher: i'm gasping over here now, moaning and straining in your mouth
Wilhelmina: i strain to watch you
Wilhelmina: come… come... i go faster, harder… i want you to come so hard that it ripples over your entire body
Christopher: sgagsad… coming, coming… coming inside you as you pull outttt
Wilhelmina: i catch your come in my mouth… can't swallow all of it…so it drools over my chin...
Christopher: i'm still coming, and still hard, want to do you. unfair - you didn't get to come.
Wilhelmina: that's quite alright.
Christopher: also, you're not right here
Wilhelmina: not being there is quite NOT alright. i swear... once we have sex IRL and not online i'm probably just going to...i don't know. implode or something
Christopher: well, here's hoping i don't become horrible at IRL sex in the meantime
Wilhelmina: somehow, i highly doubt that.
A Love-letter to No-one
Right now, I have a beer and three cups of Hypnotic inside me (a quality mixture of vodka, cognac, and fruit punch, according to the bottle) and I am able to be honest.
My loves - I miss you. Very, very much. I miss the way you moan and cry out; I miss the way your skin and genitalia taste inside of my mouth. I miss the way it feels like we were moulded out of the same clay - the way we resonate with each other. Maybe that's just an isolated feeling - maybe I'm the only one who feels like that - but no matter. I feel as if I can communicate with you without words, and that's something. That, my dears, is worth mentioning. Worth valuing.
I see the photographs of you with your significant others. I see your Facebook status updates about them. I see how integral they are to your lives. And it's okay. I don't care. I can't care. Because I? I love you - all of you. So deeply. So much. Tonight - I was talking to a friend here, explaining how I would do just about anything for somebody I am close to. And it's true.
Perhaps this is a dangerous statement, but - you define me. You make me.
Because what use is a world in which you have nobody whom you find worth dying for? Worth living for?
To the Emperor: I have been emailing with K and he speaks of his ex-who-he-still-loves in the most poetic of terms: he describes her as a tornado; as a maple tree. I would describe you as a brightly-shining-sun. When I spent time with you, I described it to others as 'basking in your prescence.' And it's true. Being around you is like witnessing a great ball of destructive and creative energy; witnessing a force that can move mountains. I wish I could be there with you right now, before you leave for good and live the fabulous life that you deserve. I wish we could have had more time. I keep thinking that maybe you would have let me in; you would have loved me as much as you loved her - your girlfriend. But I've wished for the same thing before and it came to nothing.
If I was at College right now - you know what I would have done to you? I would have found the best way to tie you up and render you immobile; I would have found the best places on your body to strike. The places that would make you scream ecstatically. I would have taken you to a place inside of your mind where you felt the most vulnerable; the most safe; the most cradled; the most possessed.
I still dream of coming back and finding that you're still there. I dream of finding you and your wine-rich lips and dizzying kisses. Maybe one day I will find you - somewhere unexpected.
To Christopher: I want you. Which is the beginning and end of it all, really. I want your cock and your mouth and your ass and your cries and your ridiculousness. I'm so grateful for the way you listen to me and tolerate me and let me crawl into you and feel safe and protected. I'm grateful for the way you let me push you.
To the Actor: I dream about you. I dreamt about you last night. I dreamt we were both still at College, and rolling around in bed and cuddling and talking about everything under the sun as we always do.
You were my friend, my sibling, my lover, and my child. You displaced me. Threw me completely off-kilter. And I appreciate that. I hope I see you again, and soon.
---
I've yet to spend quality time with somebody here who does not want to get into my pants in some way. It's annoying. And the people I am attracted to? Completely unavailable, as usual. Basil is extremely elusive and such a clit-tease. So arrogant and condescending - which is partly why I have such a huge crush on him.
What an idiot...
I want to taste his mouth; pull onto his dreads so his head snaps back and I can taste his neck. I want to feel his wiry body against me. Most of all - I want to make him gasp. I want to render him speechless. I want to make him completely devoid of smarmy comments. And I want to tease him until he begs me to let him come.
This blog contains adult content.
Wilhelmina Wang. Queer, female college student with her mind lodged firmly in the gutter, seeking genderbenders, lessons in BDSM, a meaningful fuck, and a point in life.
Here's where her mind is spilled like the proverbial guts.
Protected posts: Of a more personal nature. Contact me for the password.
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