Monday, April 28th, 2014 at
I was actually going to go in a completely different direction with this post, but I had a conversation this morning that reinforced the concept of ‘full circle’ in my head much more than the original relationship I was going to discuss.
Back in college, I had a crush on a guy, who I’ll call Ethan for the sake of this discussion. Ethan and I lived in the same building for two years – the first year I spent crushing on him from afar, and the second a more direct flirtation on both sides. A two year crush-build was pretty much unheard of for me at the time. My relationships moved fast, so the back and forth I had with Ethan was pretty intense, mentally. I hated that ‘I don’t know if you like me or not’ thing – still do now. It was during the third year, when he had moved out of the dorms, that we finally ‘hooked up’ – after I had enough of waiting for him to chase me and took control myself.
At that time, I was working and living the BDSM lifestyle. I was actively poly, had other Tops and lovers, and Ethan knew that. He knew I was kinky, and tried to satisfy that side of my sex life. He wasn’t what I would consider an established Top. He was dominant, but didn’t know what to do with it. The problem I had throughout this relationship is that I never knew where I stood. That same ‘I don’t know if you like me or not’ thing that I hated during our flirtation before fucking continued. Mixed signals are hard for 35-year-old-me to deal with. For 20-year-old me it was just a huge mindfuck.
Keep going…I want more…
Saturday, April 26th, 2014 at
Mrs Goodnight has been exploring her gender identity in recent weeks, and has started wearing a packing dildo when she’s not at work. I happened to look over one afternoon and saw the head of her cock sticking out of her underwear. Held back my desire to reach out and give it a lick, instead heading for the camera.
If you would like to use this image for Exhibit Unadorned’s Sinful Stories writing prompt, you do have both my and Mrs Goodnight’s permission to do so. We kindly ask for credit in your blog post with a link back to this page in return for the use of the image. Good luck with your entry, and happy Sinful Sunday!
Wednesday, April 9th, 2014 at
“Room 309. See you soon. xxx”
My finger hovered over the ‘send’ button for a few minutes more than it really needed to. He announced his arrival with a quick “I’m just pulling in now.” that set off the small butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach. They’d been living there for what seemed like ages – ever since that moment we both started developing that mysterious connection we still can’t quite figure out, but were both eager to jump on.
Just press send. This is what you’ve been waiting for.
My nightly dreams had been slowly moving from full on sex scenes to the more mysterious shapes and shadows. He had transformed from the figure I lusted over to more of a memory. His kisses turned into connections, his strokes into emotions, the raw sex into a bond. It was sweet and romantic, but I missed the fucking that once played out in my head. A week beforehand I had lost his image in my mind – probably due to the fact it had been months since I’d seen him. This morning, though, that memory had returned. I could see every inch of him in my head. Every. Inch.
I tapped the send button, and watched as the progress bar moved to ‘sent’.
The butterflies were gone, replaced with vultures flopping wildly around, hungry for flesh. His flesh. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I crossed the room to unlatch the door. I looked pale – why was I so pale? You’d think I’d be bright red given what was running through my head at the moment. How would he come in the room? Would he kiss me first, or just throw me onto the bed, covering my mouth with his hand and cut the shirt off of me? Was I expecting too much and he’d shake my hand and we’d wonder off for a coffee and a chat? He’s always guarded his thoughts so well. Half of me wondered if it was to keep me guessing, half of me just assumed he wasn’t interested in me…at least in the ways I wanted him to be.
I knew why I was so pale. This was the moment that would change everything.
The three knocks on the door broke me away from my own thoughts.