Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Phone Sex Existentialism

Sometimes I exist only to be his dirty whore.  I am nothing but a sex object, from the hair he can pull to jerk my head around, to the legs he can pin down while he's biting me or otherwise making me squirm, and moan, and try to fight through the pain.  My pussy gets so swollen and wet.  He makes me feel like fruit ripening on a vine, sometimes getting to the bursting point. 

Now when he talks dirty to me on the phone (and you have to understand, he's so polite and British, that hearing filthy, degrading things coming out of his mouth is so exceedingly sexy) I can picture his face as he's holding me down and putting his fingers or his cock inside my pussy, pounding me like the slutty slave I truly am.  I get to where all I can think about is his touch, his voice, and cumming.  Please let me cum.  And even after I've cum once or twice, it's almost like I only need to more.

Last night on the phone, he and I talked about things we'd done on my visit.  And I kept going to my oh my god i have no voice minnie mouse kind of voice.  I kept getting weak in the knees and I could feel my pussy getting more and more hot and wet.  Before I put my finger between my lips I can know, inherently, that it's going to be like warm massage oil in there.  Hot, slick and ready to go.  It was no exception last night.  My clit was so swollen and sensitive, I was actually a little shocked. 

I've been touching my pussy pretty regularly for 27 (ack!) years.  I know myself inside and out and have most definitely fallen prey to the laziness and ease of mechanical toys for stimulation and fruition of these orgasms I so desperately need.  When given surprise time to play before my house was full of people last Friday (and no idea how long I had privacy), I had the most amazing five orgasms in maybe five minutes' time.  I'm the queen of the microwave play session.  It's so hot and quick.  Very satisfying.

But Master has retaught me the art of feeling so turned on I'm going to explode.  Not having control over orgasms can sometimes make me feel like I'm going to have a panic attack.  I definitely used to cum as a way to relieve stress and reward myself for things.  I have to remind myself I am HIS whore, his begging slut.  I get to cum when HE says, which is essentially for his pleasure.  I am such a selfish fucking slut.  I know this. 

The upside to sometimes feeling like I'm going to go Hindenberg and just burst into flames is it makes me so sensitive, so much MORE turned on.  I think I used to play when I wasn't even wet, just start touching myself and make it happen because I wanted to cum.  I haven't touched my pussy in the three and a half months with my Master and not felt it and thought it felt like it was about to explode.

Last night, with just my fingers and the words of my Master in my ear, I got off so hard from phone sex, that even that one orgasm was enough.  I actually felt sated from ONE orgasm??!!! (this is crazy in my book)  Having heard "good girl" enough with his fingers or cock deep inside me, teasing me, making me beg to cum in person, having it fresh in my memory, and then hearing him talk that like, hearing the passion in his voice, was almost hallucinogenic for me.  I could FEEL my Master on top of me, over me.  I could feel my pussy grip around his hand, begging as he fucked me so hard to please let me cum.  Please.  He seems to know my breaking point because thankfully he's never crossed it (and I've never had to go Pulp Fiction and buy a gun from the sheer frustration of needing an orgasm). 

And then he lets me cum.  I cum for him.  I'm his good girl for being so obedient and so wanton and dirty.  I cum so hard, so deep in my pussy, that it sets everything right in my world.  Philosophically speaking, this is my utopia.

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