Dedication to Meta because I want the fucking universe to know who makes me cum intensely. I am lucky to have your contribution towards fantasies, my self discovery and introspection. I like you. I am nervous all day today. Beyond excited. Vibrating. My cheeks flushed. Pussy throbs. My glorious sex tics are bouncing around with new noises; the usual sex exhale but then there is a "woo" and a "mew". I told him my excitement is akin to standing in line for a long time for the newly anticipated Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland. Hoping, the ride lasts a long time and a whole lot scared not knowing what to expect. The day is very surreal. And shortly after I have this thought, he messages me how unreal this is that we will be meeting. I grapple with the idea of masturbating to help release some of my anxiety; but I really want to explore this uncomfortable anxious feeling and turn into arousal. Staying in the anxious moment, it's like the worst feeling of stage fright; a bundle of nerves questioning my blow job abilities since it's been 12 years. Men get nervous too right? Of course they are human. I need grounding so I grab my bike and go for a ride. I was given a prayer from him perhaps to memorize, so I spent an hour riding and memorizing. Thinking I am going to have to recite something the first time we are meeting made me even more excitable. My day feels like a dream. In and out of reality it seems. He messages me simply, "5 hrs...". My heart begins to pound loudly. A countdown. My body trembles, I had a scary thought, did I just plate myself up to a serial killer or serial rapist? Those thoughts are quickly squashed because through our conversations his energy doesn't read that way. Instead I used that fearful energy and put it towards my prey kink. Time to get ready. I feel like I am walking in a dream; my legs not wanting to really move, I feel as though there's some kind of finality with this preparation. A ritual march. Beginning with a cleansing; a hot shower turning my flesh to bright pink then finishing with cold water to cool my hot spots making my nipples bud up tightly. If the cold shower is the worst of my day then it still is a good day. I don't use heavy perfumed anything, just a bar of charcoal soap and a pH balanced wash for my starved cunt. Shaving my legs, no need to clean up my vintage bush as there would be nothing with my pussy yet. An hour later with makeup and hair done, I decide it is definitely a good hair and makeup day. The night prior I painted my nails and toes a matching deep dark red blue color. The outfit I chose looks put together but not too done up. Matching black lacy panties and lacy black bra. Looks like I overcame my recoil towards matching sets from suppressed sodomy. The night is already full of redemption. Two days of preparation is about complete. Fear builds up again but a bit relieved when he messages me as I'm thinking he's cancelling. Emotions shoot back up when I can see he's in his element, a definite role and gives me further instructions. I reread his message of instructions, shaking, I had to make sure tonight's play would not eliminate me; for some reason my fear pulled me in all types of directions. Nerves. Then the thoughts, the ants of what if's came marching. Deep breath. Time to leave. I go to my friend's house and give her information about him in the event something happens. I said if I'm murdered please find out if I at least had sex of some kind so we can think I came and went. My vile thoughts sometimes help lighten my mood. We hang outside listening to music, I give readings of chakra stones and dance a bit. He messages me he's leaving now. Now. It's time. Breathe. I blast my Sacral playlist as the sky grows darker. I have night blindness and barely know the area; these feed into my anxiousness. My analytical brain is out of her comfort zone too. The place we're meeting is a tiny roadside building open to the public. A chapel. The size of a small shed. Lost in thoughts while listening to loud music, reciting the prayer and trying to remain present with the winding road which gently rocks me further into a trance. I passed it. Damn! Luckily, a gas station is up ahead. I run in to pee and primp. I look nervous as hell, pupils dilated and face flushed. Reminding myself it will be okay, just be your authentic glorious flawed self and I turn to leave my nervous reflection. In my car I double check the location it's just a minute up the road, my anxious energy now becomes enthusiastic. A minute later I almost miss the turn again, I cut over to the last second and pull up next to a cream colored large SUV. He said he was driving a car. Did he have a different vehicle? I message him "Are you here?" "No five minutes, away." Okay a little relieved I will have a few minutes to look around. Unsure if I should get out of the van while the SUV is here, I wait and notice they are backing out. The SUV pulls out as I start my car to move it giving more vehicle room for him to park next to me. I get out of the car and walk over to the chapel. A delightful warm night. Semi clear with just some wispy clouds over the crescent moon. Crickets and frogs provide most of the ambient sounds with a soft whirring of a few cars driving by. This is suddenly helpful. Grounding me. I can catch my breath finally. I see through the glass door the chapel is cute with four small pews and a hanging cross on the back wall behind the podium. A seemingly reverent peaceful place. Until I open the chapel door, a waft of stale musty air floods my nose. My presence here full of deviant purpose is still kept a secret, until I cross the threshold. Now the cross on the back wall looms larger and more ominous. The omnipresence now feels like the familiar heavy draping shroud I would feel every time I would enter my old church. Out of habit, I surreptitiously fix my clothing to not expose too much skin. The mini bibles placed on the pews seem to be whispering their words at me while flashes of the noxious turquoise green carpets of my old church run through my mind. Goosebumps prickle my arms while a tingly sensation behind my ears runs down my neck continuing down my back; my body shivers. I exhale deeply a moan of sorts. My heart pounding in my ears, and suddenly a fear of fainting washes over me as the small room begins to close in. Blasphemous finger wagging thoughts were trying to stream in as I now see the biblical messages other visitors had left behind. I lose my breath, I can't turn and leave fast enough. Storming out, to the right, I see a large coniferous tree calling to me. I approach the tree and panicked every headlight I see are his. I desperately need a minute alone with this magnificent tree for grounding. I reach out with my left hand and caress the bark of the tree. Dragging my fingers on the roughness, in some places noticing the softness of some frayed pieces of the bark. Just a few seconds was enough for me to begin to feel calmer, just in time as I get a message from him about reciting my prayer in the chapel. Swallowing hard, I thank the tree for being there and head back inside to complete my instructions. As I enter, I begin softly reciting the prayer to not disturb the religious imprint left from others. Stumbling on words at the disbelief in just a few minutes, he will arrive. He will arrive. I am there with a purpose of worship, I tremble. The deviance grows louder as a part of me is trying to remain quietly respectful. Respect. I now fill with contempt. I am entering my new role. I reverently begin to recite his prayer aloud; in proud defiance of fantasy images of my Sunday school teacher finger pointing saying I'm going to find my head in a guillotine for being witchy. At my church family movie night was about witch beheadings. However, after a few words into the prayer, narrowing my eyes to stay focused, I lick my lips remembering the glorious reason why I am here and then proudly unfix my shirt, exposing more of my witchy cleavage. A different kind of worship. This isn't faith based religion. I get to meet a god. Half way through the prayer butterflies begin buzzing around frantically excited. I'm wet too. My pussy is throbbing with cooperative enthusiasm. She knows she isn't getting anything. And I was okay with this, very okay with this. I want all of me to just focus on his cock. My excited wet throbbing cunt just made me more heated noticing how reactive my body is to just thoughts of him; behaving this way from thoughts of having him in my mouth. Slowly, I am now enunciating every dirty word in my scripted prayer, my scripture, wanting to make sure every molecule in this space can hear and understand me. A cold wave falls over me as I hear a car pull in. My stomach drops and my lower back begins to heat up; I can feel his presence, it's him. He's here. My prayer is answered. It's time for redemption. I'm shaking again. I need fresh air. I come out of the tiny chapel and see he hasn't gotten out of his car. My phone rings. I'm relieved to hear his voice. My legs now weaken because he says he has an idea. I blush because I know this idea will be delicious. I'm to return inside the chapel and place my blindfold on and wait for him. He also will be blindfolded. I respond with just a simple, "yes" and head back in. My shaking hand reaches for the door knob, the door feels heavier this time as I pull open. My weakened legs start to come alive as I cross the threshold. A sly smile crosses my lips because I feel this small walk down this aisle will be exhilarating and liberating. Night...planning for cock worshiping...being touched by a man...pleasing a man...worshiping cock...his cock. Yes, definitely this walk down the aisle is already a blessing to me. I drift slowly to the rudimentary podium wanting to push a record button in my mind to make sure I leave no detail out of my memory in order to call upon anytime I feel a desire. Dirty desire, I can feel this is going to be good. I stop with my back still facing the door, deep breath in. I lift my shaking arms and my trembling fingers pull the velcro apart from my blind fold. Covering my eyes, I wrap it around my head as a hot and cold wave ripples through my body, at the realization of just how vulnerable I am in this moment. Adrenaline races through my veins and I tremble hearing his car door slam shut. Footsteps now approaching the chapel. My racing heart pounding within my chest violently; the chapel door opens. No words from him. Silence after I hear rustling for a second. What am I doing? My breathing is now shallow and rapid, I can hear myself. My body is frozen in a flight or fight response not knowing what to do or why I'm here. I can hear movement again behind me. I'm now filled with a bit of terror just at my own physical vulnerability; blindfolded, one exit in this small room that he could easily block and a bit far from any kind of help. My thought goes back to this is the perfect setup to be murdered or raped. My heart is racing as I can no longer feel my legs. My chest rising and falling rapidly trying to supply my body with more oxygen feeding my brain to help me make a quick decision if necessary. It's taking too long. He's too quiet, what's going on? Should I peek? Ask him what's going on? I can't do anything I'm petrified. Suddenly, his gentle soothing voice tells me where he is in relation to where I'm standing. Only problem is my legs have locked; instead of fight or flight I'm now frozen. Even feeling slightly comforted by his voice, I still can't move. He speaks up again telling me to come to him. Legs unable to cooperate, I shuffle backwards using the 2 rows of pews to help guide me back. I bring my left arm up and out, with my hand reaching and searching out for him. His hand; I let out a sigh of relief. I finally get to feel him. Placing my hand in his, he guides me to him. Again I'm met with comfort. Then he said his cock is waiting for me. Now I'm delighted. This is the moment I've been wanting, waiting, fantasizing about; to be on my knees in front of him. For him. His cock. Both of us being blindfolded heightens our other senses but symbolically it's removing us. Leaving just my eager little hot mouth and his delectable cock. That's all there is needed in this space and time. This space. I relish the thought of where I am as I slowly lower to my knees; excited to do filthy things in a religious space. My reverence now is with a different god, one of my choosing. I mew in my throat when I reach to touch him. His cock. I no longer had to wonder if I even still enjoyed sucking dick. Not sure if it's because it had been so long, being blindfolded, or him, but I became fully present just with this cock, feeling I'm now in my religious space. I am given the opportunity to make love, express my fondness and appreciation for such a beautiful delectable appendage. Knowing of his ability to not cum so quickly made it more exciting as I now get to take my time with this cock. His smell even; I could lick him for hours. His taste; I want more time and opportunities for worship. Soon the deviance of where we were lost it's magical appeal. I was being filled, in my eager wet mouth, with him. My tongue that longed for cock was happily eagerly and gingerly lapping his shaft. Slowly exploring every millimeter not wanting to miss any spot of his cock and trying desperately to have this experience imprinted for future recall in the event next service is weeks away. The chemistry we have sexting, and phone play happily translates in person. I had a little fear that in person the chemistry I felt wouldn't cross over. None to worry. And my 12 years without sucking dick is over. My room faintly smells of him. And when I have flashes of what transpired, I lose my breath feeling like it was just a fabulous dream. A good fucking dream finally. And I can't wait to see what is dreamt up next. Don't stop here....there is more....this time he had me write about my experience on his cock, Solace...
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May 2023
AuthorReleasing some steam. You should want to know me, not just a woman with pent up passion. Oh yea and you should start this from the beginning. |