i wanna be your whore

fuck. me. with. your. blood. fingers. This is a repost.

Tumblr is being a massive vagina in the balls and not letting me post things from my iphones. 

I am a little drunk.  Yes I know I don’t drink but even I fail sometimes you know?  I sang karaoke tonight.  Hilarious.  

There are three boys in my house at the moment, currently hanging on my patio smoking a joint.  

I am pretty sure if I chose one and asked him to come to bed with me it could happen.  

But they are so…. So…. Fucking… Nice? Just lovely boys.  And there’s nothing wrong with lovely guys. Time and place.

But tonight… If I’m going to fuck someone I want it to hurt.  

I want the lights to be off so I don’t know when he is going to slap my face, or choke me, or pull me hair.   I want to feel his fingers digging into my flesh as he grabs me and fucks me like there may never be two people in the world to fuck again.  I want him to fuck me for our lives.  

I want us to fuck and cry and laugh then do it all again. 

I want to touch my skin tomorrow and feel every tender spot we connected.  My muscles aching from the acrobatics I was forced to perform, my pussy swollen and tender so every twist or turn against my soft lace underwear reminds me he was there the night before.  

I want sitting down to hurt. I want to run my finger tips over my lips and I want them to still feel numb and tingly.

I want it to mean nothing. I want it to feel like nothing else in the world mattered more.

(Source: hotparade, via asexyparty)

it was the autumn, and my first proper date with a boy i would later lose my virginity to.  i thought he was amazing.  we went to a cast party on closing night of a play i was in… he was so lovely, my friends were charmed and declaring their jealousy with giggles and winks.

we left the bar, and went to a strip club where he paid for me to get a lap dance from a cute little brunette while he watched.  we then ran out to the mall and played catch, i ran ahead and he chased me.  there was so much laughter. i felt so free and happy.

we ran up the massive stairs from the city to spring hill, and we ended up at a gay club where he knew the bar man.  it was 3am and my dad would be waiting up for me at home, angry and worried.  we giggled about being the only straight couple in thinning crowd of queens and leather daddies.  

in the back corner we rolled around on some couches that had seen more action than linda lovelaces throat, he kissed me and i got dizzy, we groped and dry humped, he ended up slipping to the floor much like the boy in this photo, and his hand crept down into my knickers….  it was the first time id let a boy put his fingers inside me….  

eventually his friend, the bar tender came over and explained that we couldnt actually have sex on that couch, i thought it was hilarious and ridiculous, because having sex was the furthest thing from my mind believe it or not.  

young naivety is an amazing thing.

________________________________

(edit to add this is a true story.)

This post will involve being alone, masturbation, and tabasco sauce.  Skip ahead if you do not like this kind of thing. 

Never felt so alone before.  Ive just had one of those major life changing break ups, and thats ok.  Ive had them before.  But I lived in the city last time around, people dropped by every day after work for a beer, or showed up at 3am to tell me how much they missed my cat (i had a drunk friend, R).  Now I live on property in the middle of nowhere.  And when I am alone,  I mean VERY alone.  I mean if I stand on my front verandah and scream VAGINA FLOWER no one would raise an eyebrow, because no one would hear it.  

But,  its ok.  I dont fear “alone” like I fear grasshoppers.  I do worry what effect it will eventually have on my mental health though.  

I think alone is dangerous for me because I love it so much.  I love doing my own thing, spending time just clicking buttons (take that as you will), and hanging out in my underwear, or even better, just a slip and no underwear, often just a skirt pulled up so it barely covers my breasts, and when i sit down it slides, and a nipple will peek out over the top 

Chances are I wont see a single soul out where I live for the next few days, but I will fuck myself in ways only I can to fill that void.  I had a friend B, a girl I loved, who would say “you know youve been alone too long when you start referring to the fridge as a person”.  I think youve not been alone long enough till the fridge merely starts looking like a pandoras box of nutrition and phallic playthings.

Everything I pass will be a potential toy, a potential playmate.  Ive used my make up brushes as butt plugs (they make me look like i have a little tail), deodorant bottles as dildos, conditioner as lubricant, and that little bottle of tabasco as an extra burning thrill.  Careful though…  it bites.  

Once I clock the next level of this game on xbox, and have essentially rubbed up against everything in the house, eaten all the ice cream and played the wedding singer in the background while i potter around at least six times, it will be time to leave home.

as you hugged this new fake friend goodbye, promising to call each other and be best friends forever even though you never would, your arm brushed her breast and your hand skimmed her thigh. Though, she didn’t seem to mind.     

I went out tonight to a hens night…. It was messy.  There was dancing on tables, straws shaped like penises, horny women (I actually hate that word, “horny”, it makes arousal sound so cheap) bottles of champagne, a sealed off VIP section of some beautifully decorated hipster bar where I felt really old..  

It was fun overall, once you looked past the fact that a bunch of ladies that barely knew each other were forced to sit around and make chit chat oohing and aaahing over the bride to be, pretending that if they weren’t stuck together tonight they would be friends in real life. 

I kept finding myself staring at their breasts wondering what the variation in cup size was, I estimated we had each size present, from the brides tiny A’s to my double D’s to a set of massive G’s on the heavily pregnant lady.  I wondered if she was making milk yet, I contemplated asking her.  Or just reaching over mid conversation and grabbing them roughly to see if I could make them squirt hoping she would just continue talking.

I am going to shorten this story by adding that I had an argument over the phone with someone I consider to be “significant” in my life.  I am your a-grade straight-from-the-textbook-youngest-child pleaser. I am naturally submissive, I just want to make people happy. I’m not saying I’m not fiesty, I am, I’m brassy and ballsy and an alpha female in most aspects, but I find myself wanting to please in matters of the heart, or the underpants. When this blows up I find myself resorting to old destructive behaviours.  There was a time I would do copious amounts of drugs. Smoke myself into a haze and play GTA San Andreas for hours on end. or snort myself happy, drink myself stupid, dance till my high heels had blood trickling out of them. till I had not a care in the world.  I am four years sober, so now….my only vice is sex.

eight second clips of butt fucked bookworm bitches, obese women self fisiting, sex and submission, bondage model leg spreader, tit clamp, cunt pump engorged clit

Sex.

I see it everywhere.  

Violent. Self affirming. Sex.  

I rubbed up against a blonde man at the bar and felt his erection in my back like a gun.

At the end of the night as everyone hugged and kissed, emotion uncomfortably throbbed inside me.

pulse pulse pulse pulse 

I didn’t want to fuck a stranger. I was so well behaved these days.  I didn’t do that kind of thing anymore. 

REFORMED.    

pulse beats louder inside me… Starting somewhere in my gut and echoing over my body in waves, louder, harder I sent a text message to my significant saying “don’t call me again tonight. We will talk when you’re sober”. 

I go to the convenience store on the walk to a friends house where I’m crashing, it’s 3am and the clerk, a guy, maybe 35-36 years old says “that’ll be-”  

i wonder if I could offer to blow him pulsepulsepulse  

“thirteen dollars”  I would just walk around the counter, looking him straight in the eye, unzip him unflinchingly, get on my knees and pull his half confused already firming up cock

PULSEPULSEPULSE  

I stare at him, my pink rosebud lips slightly parted, breathing softly, like a kitten fixed on her kill. 

“are you alright?” he asks  I’d make him cum in under three minutes, I know I could, hand on the base, mouth swallowing from tip till throat pulse is just a hum now, like a haze I need to push through  

“miss?”  he seems confused but aware of the sexual energy being flung at him, like tangled strands of pink and red reaching through the space between us ready to drown us both when I laugh

“sorry, I just zoned out, so tired! How much again?” 

he just looked back at me, now he was the one contemplating making a move on me; his eyes soft and slightly unfocused.

I slapped fifteen bucks on the counter and turned away, sucking all that red and pink with me, in an invisible swirl. the pulse eased, it was just a little whisper inside me,

pulse.    pulse.           pulse.         pulse.

I am now at my friends house, listening to his roommate fuck his girlfriend, it’s 4.18am and again I wrote this on my iphone.  I am contemplating just walking into the room next door and-

I am at a friends place, it’s 4am and I can hear his roomate fucking a friend of mine. I look like this.