To The Men In My Life – Reprise –

The last time I wrote a post like this, it was to thank the incredibly arousing, ridiculously horny boy toys in my past life. They were all fabulous. My lower half is tingling just thinking back on those memories.

 

This dedication, however, won’t be singing the same praises. I’m tired. And fed up. I’ve sat here waiting for my life to happen. Waiting for someone to make me feel special. Wishing that one day I would get flowers, or that maybe he’d want to ask me out on a date. Waiting for his texts in the morning. And it’s not just one. Somehow, a handful of guys have all managed to get under my skin. Me. The girl who had an impenetrable shell, but loved to be penetrated. I’ve lost focus. I started getting that starry eyed view on love, and settling down, and finally feeling special. Apparently this is not the time. And after over a month of digging myself into a “pity party” hole, I’m climbing out, both of my middle fingers held out in front.

 

To the one guy who has been able to make my heart melt, my first love – from a distance – I’m over it. The games. Never knowing where your head’s at. Whether or not we’re talking, or not talking, or only talking because you’re horny. I may not be one to turn heads, and I might not have the self confidence that makes a girl sexy… yet.  I hope that some day in the future, I run into you somewhere, and you can see what I became, and what you missed out. I hope you realize then that all your games were pointless, because I’d rather quit than play games, and that’s what I’m doing now. I’m out.

 

To the most addicting, heart breaking, and delicious cock in my life… I’m finally over it. I am still totally happy to keep you around, as I will fail miserably to find someone to even come close to comparing to you. It won’t happen. So I’m over my idol-worshiping phase. You’re hot. Like REALLY hot. And smart. And did I mention hot? And that cock…. Oh lord, give me strength. But the nice thing is, you don’t have the power to hurt me anymore. I don’t know why I let you in the first place. I knew it wouldn’t ever become anything. I’m not some hot, young tight slut. And I’m OK with that. It’s not a loss for me anymore. Just give me a good pounding once in a while to remind me who owns me, and I’ll be happy.

 

To the one claiming to be my friend, and to love me like a sister. I see through you. I know your motives, and though you do care, it’s not to the extent you claim, or that I deserve. Every week, I get to hear about the new pussy you conquered, or another heart you broke. Every slut, every joke, every bad judgement call. It’s OK. You’re covering up the pain from loving a girl we both know. I watched all that happen, and I sympathize. But I want a friendship that’s give and take. I want you to hear about my life, my conquests ( or being conquered) and so on. So I’m done chasing you down. I’ll always be there as your “safe.” Your secret keeper.  But I want to be on a priority list. Not on the waiting list for the priority list. I love you, big brother.

 

I’m taking some of my old life, and some of my new life, and putting the lessons learned into action. I’m closing my heart again, and my legs will open occasionally, though never for money. I don’t think I’m ready to be in love, because I don’t really know what love is, like at all. But I know sex, and I do LOVE that. I know how to act, what to say, and what to do. So I’ll be both the old and the new. Safe and sound, and full of sex.

 

Farewell, my wonderful, fuckable – minus last boy  – friends. I love you all. Keep it sexy. I know I am!

 

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Note to My Future Self

Way back in the old days… Ok… Not that long ago…. I had this teacher that insisted that writing a letter from your future self really helped when you are ready to “stare down the wrong end of a shotgun barrel.” So…. Here goes.

Dear Red,
After struggling for over a year to overcome your strongest addictions and biggest hurdles, you’re going to come to a strange bump in the road. One that will make you question everything that is going on in your life. Seriously, love, it’s gonna suck. Like bad.

You’re going to hit a point where you’re so broke you’re considering un-retiring. You’re going to try to attach yourself to any unavailable man because its safer than falling in love or learning to trust. You’re going to question every new friendship you form, or relationship, at least once a day. You’re going to feel like you’re under a microscope, with everyone watching you and judging… When really… No one is. And that will hurt you more. You’re going to struggle to lose weight, and even put some more back on. And you’re going to have to fight for every good thing on your life.

And it will all be worth it.

You’re going to get through it. You will find that financial break you’re desperately needing. You’re going to learn from the hurt and pain the men in your life have given you, and have the courage to kick them all to the curb and demand a higher bar to be set. You’re going to drop that weight, be healthy, happy, and confident. And don’t worry, you’re too good in bed to not have mind blowing sex every so often. It just might not be with the guy in your life who doesn’t even desire it. You will get through, Red. There will be tears, screaming, and the occasional hair pulling – not the good kind- but you will get through it.

You will BE OK!!!!!

Love,
Older, but still hot, and much wiser Red.

I Have A Theory

I have been testing this for a couple of months now. And I’m pretty sure I’m onto something.

Currently, my role in life is the best friend. You know, the one that plays wing man, gives out the subtle hints and little tricks to the guys I know she wants. I’m the one that remains invisible until he starts the chase, and then, because he wants in with her, he and I become “best friends,” and I’m, “so cool, so sweet” and he “feels so stupid for not getting to know me sooner.”

 

Bull.Shit.

 

I love her to death, my best friend. I hold nothing against her, envy her like crazy, and learn so much from her. It’s the guys I’m starting to have a problem with. Now… I’m not by any means model status, or hottest chick in the office. But… I wouldn’t say I’m so old hag, or a three eyed hermaphrodite. I’m normal. Yes I’m quiet, but it’s because I’m still trying to figure a way to be happy outside of my comfort zone. I’m by no means a bitch, or some snob. I’m just shy. So… Here’s my theory.

 

Apparently, I have two choices in life. I can either spread my legs for the “highest bidder,” and constantly have my phone and email account blown up with messages, offers, and notes of endearment, or I can be invisible. I mean legs closed, quiet and unnoticed. Never hit on, flirted with, or even given a look! The one cock in my life barely even flirts… actually, I don’t think he really does. Maybe I’m broken…..

 

Just a theory.

Earning an A

*Hello, my fabulous collection of deviants! I am back! Not sure how long I’ll be able to stay on top of this – I’ve never been much for being on top anyway – but I am dying to update you on the mundane activities of yours truly. God… My life seems to adventure-less these days, but I’m managing to fit one or two little exploits in my busy schedule. First, a recount of one of my favorite encounters over the last few months…..*

 

A storage closet, a public restroom, the “sex dungeon”… These were our usual meeting spots when I went to see him while he was working. Seeing as he worked at a university, there were limitless, though potentially risky, spots for him to stuff his hard cock down my throat. We always found a way to make it work.

I knew this day would be no different. I found it concentrate on walking as I went to meet him. I would have definitely failed any straight line test. I saw him, and I was instantly wet. I wanted him… no… needed him. Now. I followed him inside, not saying a word. I expected to follow him towards one of our usual spots, but instead, he led me down an unfamiliar hallway. He used his “all access” badge, and I followed him into a dark room. When the lights flickered on, I found myself standing next to the podium in a small auditorium – a classroom. (Did I ever mention he’s a professor, too? Heehee)

“Ready to earn your A?”

I turned back to him, and was pushed to my knees. His cock was out,  waiting, and I flicked my tongue across the tip. His hands were in my hair in seconds, and he forced my head all the way down. I gagged as I felt him slide against the back of my throat, but he wouldn’t let go. He worked my throat hard, shoving his thick cock as far down as he could. I tried pulling my head up. I couldn’t breathe. My vision was blurring as my eyes watered. I slipped my tongue down and licked the base of his shaft while he fucked my face. He groaned, and finally released me.

 

I fell forward, onto all fours, trying to breathe. He wasn’t finished. He pulled my jeans down, and pressed up against my soaked little snatch. He rubbed the head of his dick up and down against my slit, and I whimpered. When the tip was wet enough, I waited to feel him slide into my pussy. He had other plans.

 

I gasped when I felt him press against my tight little asshole. I wasn’t expecting this… but I sure as hell wasn’t going to say no. I dug my nails into the floor as he slipped inside. He didn’t stop until he filled me completely, and I was dizzy. He hesitated, waiting for me to adjust, and I pushed all the way back against him, feeling his balls gently slap against my clit. I did it again. And again. He knew what my message was. Don’t stop. Fuck my ass. Harder. My skin bruised under his fingers as he held onto me. He slammed into my ass, unrelenting, brutal even.  His big hard dick filled me so completely, I could only cry out for more.  When I felt him start to tense against me, and my hole stretched even more, I knew he was close. I took a breath and pushed against him one last time. My own body spasmed and shuddered as I came, feeling his hot load being emptied inside me.

 

I couldn’t walk very well, but as I left the classroom, he grinned and said,”You earned your ‘A.’ I’ll let you know about your next exam.”

Have You Ever….

Have you ever sat in bed late at night, unable to sleep, thoughts racing through your head?

Have you ever, in one moment, had every emotion kept in check come rushing at you hard, fast, and unstoppable? – Not the nice hard and fast-

Have you ever cried into your pillows for no reason, until the tears stop coming but the sobs continue silently?

Have you ever looked back on your life and wonder how the hell you ended up where you are?

 

Maybe you have. Maybe not. 

 

But I have. Tonight. Right now.

 

I just have to get it out, because honestly I have NO ONE else I can talk to about it. To those around, I’m either the shy girl with her inner slut lurking in the shadows, or the funny girl that always uses herself as the punch line.

I don’t know exactly how I got to where I am now. Stressed, lonely, overweight, and trying to be a good girl – and I mean good girl in the sense of making good choices, not my skills with a delicious cock…. I digress…

I am trying. I really am. I started a new job, and it’s stressing me out of my mind. It’s a sales job handling inbound calls. I figured that with the number of times I’d sold myself, a sales job would be easy as pie, yes? No. I feel invisible at work. It’s hard for me to go from a female dominated workplace to a man’s world. In my personal life, I’ve been used to being the object of attention in the bedroom, and generally overlooked elsewhere. But to be totally unknown to most people that I see on a daily basis. No… it’s not Ok.

My sex life has remained relatively undisturbed during this whole transition process. I have my one cock – stories coming shortly – and I wouldn’t trade him for anything else in the world. But that’s all he’ll ever be. He doesn’t want more with me, and I would never ask it of him. Sometimes I wish we could even be friends, but I will take what I can get. And I am more than happy to take his big, beautiful dick up my wet, wanting…. Oops.., Moving on…..

I want to be happy. Not just act happy, but BE happy. I want to be successful in a business, and not a business that has me laying on my back. I am making changes in my life, so that one day, I can hear a guy call me beautiful, accept it, and believe that it’s not just because he wants to sleep with me. 

Tonight? I’m a wreck, with no one to talk to. Tomorrow? I will wake up, take a deep breath, tell no one about what I went through tonight, and move on. You won’t have to hear more complaining from Miss Red over here.

 

Good night, my friends, and I hope your week goes better than my own.

Control

He pushes me to my knees. My eyes are drawn to the bulge in his jeans, and my insides somersault. I can’t give him any sign of weakness. I have to stay in control. It’s part of the fun. To see how long I can last.

Before I  can go for the bulge, his hand is around my throat. Just one hand, and I can’t breathe. He lifts my face, and covers my mouth with his, his tongue slipping between my lips. I moan, and his other hand slips underneath my shirt, squeezing and pinching. I need more. A lot more.

When he releases his hold on my neck, my fingers are frantically working on his jeans, and soon, those are out of the way. In seconds, I have my hand wrapped around the base of his beautiful cock. I work the tip into my mouth, and stop. I know he’s holding his breath. It’s what he does to try to last longer. I pause, then bring his cock all the way down my throat. He isn’t holding his breath now.

I don’t stop. I continue to slide my mouth up and down his shaft, gagging occasionally, and loving it. He’s holding onto the sides of my head by my hair now, shoving himself further down my throat. I’m trying to test his endurance, but my own is fading. I break away for just a breath, and his hand is closing around my throat again. “Let’s really see how long you can go without air.” His hold isn’t tight, don’t worry. He just loves to tease. My hands wander to my jeans, and work through the button and zipper. He’s tracing my lips with his cock, and I’m tracing the other lips with my fingers.

I’m losing it. The control. I’m loving this. He can tell. I back away, up against the wall. He grins, and stands over me. He shoves his cock in my waiting mouth, and I swallow it all. He braces himself against the wall while he pounds my face, his balls slapping my chin. I can barely breathe, and I can’t swallow. A bit of spit escapes from the side of my mouth.

I don’t want to breathe… but I need to. I push him away.

His fingers graze my scalp as he grabs a fistful of hair. He pulls me forward, onto all fours, and I tense. He’s tugging my jeans down below my ass, and I freeze. When I feel his cock pressing against my now very wet snatch, I lose it.

I quit. I give up. I don’t want control. We both know he’s the one in control, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m his naughty little whore, and I want him inside me. Now.

I push back against him, and gasp when I feel my pussy stretching to accommodate him. I try to cling to the carpet as he starts fucking me hard. His cock is slamming into me, and I’m meeting every thrust. There’s no way he can hold his breath, and I show no restraint. I beg for more, and he gives it. He holds me by my ass, and drives his cock into my soaked pussy. It’s not long before the room starts to spin a little, and I close my eyes. My orgasm takes over,  and I bite down on my lip to keep from screaming.

He’s holding his breath again, but it isn’t working. He pulls out, and I sit up on my knees. I look up at him and smile when his warm load floods my mouth, and I swallow every drop.

Control? I never have it.

Holiday Training

Hope you’re all getting ready for Holiday Fun. Yummy.