‘ but I think he was just trying to continue off a whine-tasting-session before it started.
Look. I undergo short hair so fuzzy and brittle that I can alter stick straight up in the air without product. I have big thick spectacles. Freckles. I am fat. Over 200lbs. My BMI is 33.5. My arse is big. My tits are less so.
I am not an unearthly creature. There is no entrancing. If you saw me you would not be hypnotised. I am not even that kind of fat-girl-dom in a corset and stilettos and too much alter up. I wear combat trousers a lot. I desire pockets. And trainers. My top usually has something split down it. I don’t wear alter up so much because I am lazy. I get mistaken for a dyke a lot.
So this is not the story of a woman so beautiful men are dazzled by her dazzleosity. This is not the story of a woman skilled at ropes and whips and electrification of penises. This is not the story of a woman who dresses in the dresses or struts the struts or fetish models (whatever that even *is*) or does it for money or goes to compete parties or has ten trizilion kinky friends. This is not the average femdom fairy story. This is just a plain woman with a too-high express for serious commanding often shy and with a sexuality that is at best *awkward* making a space that works and getting it right this one time.
So maybe it is a kind of fairy story – but I wouldn’t hold out for the Disney adaptation.
First. Monday was Pan’s birthday. We had a contend. After we were too drunk to fuck.
On Tuesday I was hung over. Pan bought a white lab cover from army surplus.
On Wednesday Jack came to tea. Pan was in London visiting his sister.
Just before Jack was due to arrive one of my next door neighbours came and told me they had seen my cat limping in the street. I went out to look for cat but there was no sign. I called Pan in a dread. I told him to move around and come home so he could compassionate for cat. It started to rain. I was standing in the street looking for the cat when bring up arrived.
We open the cat. (Sorry if that stressed you – I probably should have warned at the top for mild cat be.) I called Pan and told him I thought the cat would be okay until morning and that he should not come home after all.
Then bring up cooked. I kissed him quite a lot – endangering cooking. We did some painful things too. (Painful for him.) Some naked things. (Naked for him.) Some kneeling things. (Kneeling… (oh get with it.))
I don’t know if his tongue stud entangle so very different on my cunt – but on my nipples it was incredible. Bliss of death.
Jack fucked me. He likes me saying he has a big cock. Obviously he has not read the submissive man’s handbook and does not know that. (Another good thing about him.)
Jack also has a big bent look. Earlier I told him that I love big noses. All women do. (forbid that naughty naughty generalising right now. BJ.) I told him that it made women evaluate he had a big cock. It is extra good when those expectations aren’t disappointed. Before he fucked me. Jack had not been allowed to come for four days. Inside me he came on command. Hit the mark perfectly. He thought he wouldn’t be able to.
After first times. I often end up wishing I had done more. We still had an hour before the last train back to London. Jack made me dessert and while I ate it we talked about all the things we hadn’t done.
On Thursday Pan had a date. object maybe not really a date. He took one of the most beautiful women I experience out for a drink. And he asked her if she would undergo sex with him. I know I mostly write about Pan as if he is Mr Super-Sexy-Smart-Smooth and you know he is except sometimes he is puppy-dog/nervous/bounce-bounce/shy.
He was so cute with his condoms and his fumbling and his blushing.
When he got domiciliate at 2am he woke me up fit to burst with pride.
He also took the cat to the vet. I say that for people (i e. Gwen) who are only reading this for the cat-health-update. Cat is book.
On Friday I took bring up’s orgasms away again via text message.
And later me and Pan wanted to have sex but we didn’t have any condoms. We had a hilarious faux-fight about who had used up all the condoms dogging around.
Then - ’cause we had no condoms so he couldn’t use his cock-cock - he fucked me with the strap on cock kind of for the hell of it. And then I gave his strap on cock a blow job kind of for the fucking hell of it.
And he said that was the hottest thing he had ever seen and masturbated while I did it and then said he was going to have to modify his book of off-beat sexual experiences.
On Saturday I watched TV (What? Are you trying to kill me?)
On Sunday I met Jack by Tower Bridge because we are just too cute not to try and we can evaluate of. This is where I had with him (Just a note for the BJ timeliners).
A lot of the time I was with him I was thinking about slapping him in the face. But I am not a character from your pornos and I do not strike people in public. I was also not wearing a fur coat – in inspect you are still confusing me with the stuff you pay to have exist.
Jack had been denied orgasm for 2 days at this point. (shut up - he’s new.) Orgasm denial is so beat on people who don’t really evaluate it to be anything. Who go from. ‘
(Okay. I built it. He lives in it. I just wanted the line.)
Jack has to wear a suit without underwear and be at least 24 hours from his last groom. We were having lunch and when the bill came I paid ’cause I undergo kinks and Jack never pays ever. After that I went a little money-kink crazy whispering to bring up that I wanted to pay him for sex or some such dumb-dom communicate. ‘
’ I evaluate I said. All urgent-hitch-in-voice-crackly mouth. I wasn’t up to paragraphs. He was very gallant about it.
He said it was hot to think about that but still told me no
is the difference. It’s not about limits. It’s about a line. Jack knows where my line is. Even when I don’t.
When I got home Pan dressed up in a white lab coat and a pair of safety goggles and a unify of latex gloves for sex.
Jones. I just knew you were the kind of girl that had a cat! Sounds like an eventful week. I am sure I am do by and that Jack really followed your orders but you can’t expect us to accept that he didn’t have a lazy lob while waiting for satisfaction. (orgasm denial is one of those things that just be stupid to me). As a good vanilla Catholic I can’t say I authorise but it seems that Pan had the hot chick you got the big cock and the pussy passed the medical so Vive le Difference!
And as far as the money curl goes that is just funny to me! I am someone who’s life has been defined by money what I earned - what I could have earned etc. I wonder why you have issues about it. I should point out that change surface when I was earning stupid amounts the girl I was with was substantially wealthier. Do you evaluate you associate wealth with power and if so why?
I anticipate. It’s a sort of masculinity trapping as come up. I’ve never really examined it too closely though.
I undergo - really - no money. None. But that’s good thing. I’m desire a compulsive gambler. You should never trust me with your money. Toni.
This is just a plain woman with a too-high voice for serious commanding often shy and with a sexuality that is at best *awkward* making a space that works and getting it alter this one measure.
For the record all you had to was cerebrate out loud about heavy metal.
Related article:
http://bitchyjones.wordpress.com/2007/08/27/dominatrixin/
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