dueling dreams

I look at the pictures and recall our more intimate moments. I recall the cane splintering on my backside. I recall binding your hands and feet and your disappointment every time I untied you.

I see my pants around my ankles, bending over the saddle at the sex club, my hands in cuffs and J's belt sending my brain running and my high begins. You, making me your boi bitch in the club, with my boy shorts stuffed in my mouth, my ankles bound and my legs hoisted and tied to the pipes above us, your hands punishing me until I frank.

J in the shower, taking me from behind, and I'm holding onto the bar so that I don't fall and her arm is wrapped tight around my waist, holding me and with her other hand, she opens my vulva, grabs my clit and I am cumming.

J bound to my frame, spead eagle, and her sex is pouty and pretty. She strains against the ropes, sending her silent signal to tighten them. Her full honey colored breasts shine and the nipple rings beckon me to play. I ride her vulva with mine and we kiss. I touch her entire body, stopping at each place that calls me to fuck. I ride her hips, and suck her lips and fill her ass deeply and she calls for more. Thoughts of big red fill me suddenly and I see you pushing him in my ass in the mirror.

I put on my corset today and thought about our shopping excursion that hot day in July. Then the image of it torn up in the garbage hits me. I put on my leather vest and breathe deeply.

i guess you read the blog

i guess you read it from time to time....

battlefield

Miss R,

I doubt if you ever read this blog but just in case you see it, I am going to tell you how I see things.

You wanted a friend, a roommate, a part time fb, and when it didn't work like you thought...you did everything you could to try and push me away.

I wanted a lover, a friend, a confidant, someone to trust and hold me dear in her heart. When it didn't work out that way...I held on and begged and cajoled and cried. It wasn't pretty but it wasn't mean. I begged to be loved. Pathetic but not mean.

Mean is knowing how much someone loves you and just letting them hang there twisting. Mean is pretending to be a friend and then saying you can't. Mean is letting someone think it might work but knowing that it won't. Mean is giving someone false hope. Mean is saying abusive words and then telling that person they are abusive. Mean is stomping on someone when you know they are down. When you know that the person may not make it to the next day.

You made passes at my friends and then pretended that I was just jealous and crazy.
I wanted to share my life with you and you tell me that I keep people away from you. You push me away and tell me that I want too much. You pull me into your bed and then tell me I shouldn't expect anything. It was your rollercoaster. You invented it and kept it moving.

I was always expendable Miss R.

I feel used and cheated Miss R. I'm hurt and angry and I know that I'll survive but there will never be trust in my heart again, ever. My heart is broken and will never recover the way that it was in the beginning with you. You know what I'm talking about Miss R. My heart leapt for a chance to love you.

This blog was my only witness.