Welcome to the third chapter of my real-life erotic journey. It’s been a few weeks since the events of Chapter Two, so there’s a gap between what’s going on in my life right now and this journal. I hope to catch up a bit with this chapter. You guys won’t get a chance to vote on my path this time around, since I’m just trying to fill in the gaps, but I promise, the next chapter you will!
It turns out that I’m a much busier girl than I first realized. What started out in my mind as a story about me choosing between a guy my age and a much older professor has blossomed into several little stories, and I have no idea where they are leading at this point. Naturally, I think it’s all my fault because I have been reading entirely too many stories here on Lit, and I get these ideas and want to see how they’d work in real life. So, we’ll take things one at a time.
The week after MrZ and I had the texting convos from Chapter Two was pretty quiet. Not a lot of flirting going on, and I was beginning to think that maybe I had gone too far too fast and scared him off. Boy was I wrong! One of my Lit buddies suggested that I get him to buy me something, to get him more committed, which sounded like a great idea to me.
As it turned out, MrZ had plans all on his own!
The next day I waited after class. I only have a few minutes between that class and the next, which is on the other side of the campus, so I had to hurry. Imagine my disappointment when another chick waited after to talk with MrZ too! But all was not lost. He interrupted her and told me that if I needed help with my ‘report’ that I should attend his creative writing workshop, which is in the evenings on Wednesday. Score!
Still, I wasn’t about to be deterred from my mission. The next day, I waited after class again. This time, while we were talking, I discreetly handed him one of the ads from Victoria’s Secret that I get in the mail. He glanced at it and quickly stuck it in his pocket.
“What do you want me to do with this?” he asked.
I shrugged and stared at my feet, to hide the fact that I was blushing like crazy. “I think you can figure that out,” I said. “I get the ads all the time, but I’ve never actually walked in the store.”
I looked up, and he was blushing too. It was awkward and wonderful, and despite the fact that the students for his next class were already starting to file in, he nodded and said he would.
Another weekend passed, and as one of my advisers on Lit guessed, MrZ didn’t make any purchases over the weekend. He was getting cold feet, I thought. It’s one thing to flirt when no one else is looking, it’s another to actually walk into a store and by lacy, naughty things for your student.
Once again, I waited until class ended. This time, the entire class left and we had a couple of minutes alone. I walked behind his desk and slid my butt up on his desk top as suggestively as I could without looking like a slut. I leaned back and asked if he had been to the mall recently. I tried to be casual.
“No,” he said, very apologetically. He started to stammer, saying he intended too, but never found the time.
Then he said something like, “You know, Sara, I could get into a lot of trouble, with you being my student and all…”
I interrupted him and said, “MrZ, I’m not going to tell anyone, promise. Not a soul, not even my best friend has any idea that we talk.”
Then I pinkie promised him that I wouldn’t talk about it. It might not be a big deal to you, but to me, a pinkie promise is the next closest thing to swearing by your mom’s grave or selling your soul or something. Seriously.
The week passed so quickly, and Wednesday was there before I knew it. That day, I wore outfit that is the guy killer. It’s a classic Catholic school girl. Plaid skirt just above the knee, black, patent leather Docs, purple and black socks that go up to the knee, a white, button-up shirt, and darker colored bra. I put my hair up in a pigtail on the side of my head like the girl from Napoleon Dynamite. I wanted MrZ to see me in class and know what he was getting himself into that night. Oh, he noticed alright!
So that evening I got dropped off at school, so that way I wouldn’t be lying when I said I needed a ride home. Risky, but I could always call one of my brothers to come get me if MrZ chickened out. The creative writing class is mostly for older peeps who aren’t in school, for personal enrichment or whatever. I’ll skip all the boring stuff in class, even though I love it, and go right to the end.
MrZ was putting his stuff away in his bag and I walked up. He smiled. He was expecting me. I told him that I needed a ride home. He totally balked, but I gave him my best pouty, doe-eyed look and he caved. The walk from the classroom through the parking lot to his car was quiet and filled with those awkward little attempts at conversation that I find so adorable. He knew why I was there, and wanted to talk about anything BUT why I was there. I spent the entire walk trying to casino şirketleri keep my palms from sweating and wondering if it would be too obvious if I popped a tic-tac into my mouth. He opened the door for me and walked around to let himself in.
During the ride home, I slid down just a little bit to reveal some leg. I watched out of the corner of my eye while I fidgeted with the radio dial and caught him looking at me. Earlier in the week I actually practiced making my skirt ride up my leg without touching it with my hands. It’s not easy to do, but an essential skill I think if you want to show a little skin and make it seem incidental!
We got to my neigborhood, and despite all my wishes and intense focusing of my jedi mind powers, he had not put his hand on my bare knee…sigh…what a gentleman MrZ is. Pay attention boys…nice guys do not finish last! It’s such an unfair game, but if MrZ had come across as too pushy it would have ruined it for me. He asked where my house was and I took him down a few streets and pointed to a house. He pulled up in front and stopped the car. Then followed the tense, nervous silence of two very anxious people waiting for something to happen.
I thanked him for taking me home.
He said it was his pleasure, any time, all that good stuff.
I raised a brow and gave him that, ‘well, what are you waiting for?’ look.
“Sara, we’re in front of your house,” he said, somewhat dejectedly.
I shook my head and couldn’t stop myself from grinning like an idiot. “No we’re not, I don’t know who’s house this is, I just wanted you to stop the car.”
I couldn’t make it any easier for him.
He waited, just long enough for me to wonder if he was actually going to do it, then he leaned over and kissed me.
No, MrZ did more than kiss me, it was like he made love to me with his mouth. It was amazing. He put a hand on my waist and the other behind my neck and gave me the single most erotic experience of my life. I’ve kissed two other guys, but compared to MrZ, they were just boys. I melted into a little pile of goo and slid down to his floorboard. He could have kissed me for hours. He could have done anything he wanted to me at that moment and I would have let him. I’ve never felt anything like it. Who needs a g-spot when a guy can kiss like that?
I’d like to describe the ride home and the conversation we had, but honestly, I don’t remember. I remember giggling like a schoolgirl when he dropped me off, and locking myself in my bedroom until I recovered, but that’s about it. MrZ has set the bar to which all others must stand or fall.
The rest of the week and this past weekend were pretty uneventful in the MrZ department. I still haven’t gotten my fancy undies from Victoria’s Secret, but I think it’s coming soon. In chapter four I’ll try to work out a plan for proceeding and give you guys a vote on this part of my Choose Your Path. We’ll see!
As of the writing of this, the vote still hasn’t been tallied as to how I should proceed with Taylor. Taylor, as you’ll recall from Chapter Two, is my best friend. We’ve been bf’s for a long time, and I’m closer to her that anyone outside of family. She’s also a very hot Scottish lass with a great sense of humor, a very shy and introverted personality, and for some reason I haven’t discovered, a complex about her bod.
As I described earlier, I gave Taylor her very first O. I don’t think she’s had another since, because she is way too anxious about her body to masturbate. I was the same way until I got my psas and had no choice about it, so I totally feel for her.
I wanted to keep things going with her, and one of my Lit buddies suggested that I give her a mani/pedi the next time we hang out, and throw in a free massage. I thought it was a great idea. I could try to warm her up to the idea of us being intimate, and still have the option open of going with whatever you guys vote for in Chapter Two.
This past Friday (the 5th) I got my chance. We had decided earlier in the week to go hang out at our favorite gay bar so we could dance our booties off. She came over to my place that evening to get ready and hopped in the shower. When she got out, I offered to paint her nails, and of course she agreed. I started with her hands, and before I started with the polish I grabbed the hand lotion and started giving her a hand massage. I don’t know if you’ve ever had one, but they’re amazing. I took my time. As you know, I’ve got a thing with hands, and her’s are gorgeous. She’s got these long, perfect fingers…I know it’s weird, but I can’t help myself! By the time I was done with her hands, she was already very relaxed. I moved down to paint her toenails…we usually do this anyway, since it’s faster than painting your own, I grabbed the lotion and started giving her a massage again. She giggled and asked what she’d done to deserve the glamour treatment.
I just shrugged and said that I felt like being generous.
Taylor has such an awesome body. Her skin is perfect, like porcelain. She doesn’t casino firmaları tan, she freckles, so she doesn’t go out in the sun much. She takes excellent care of her body, even her feet are soft, unlike my poor, abused piggies! So I started with one foot and then moved up to the calf. I got a lot of those, “Oh Sara, that feels woooonnnderrffulll’ comments, and some ‘oh’s’ and ‘ah’s’ that really turned me on. I could have do it for hours!
By the time I finished with the first leg, Taylor was passed out. Totally asleep. I finished the other leg, painted her nails and had to nudge her to wake her up. *sigh*, she is so adorable.
That night, after we came home from partying and dancing with the gay guys, we stripped to our undies and climbed into bed and passed out. It was so much fun.
I know that’s not a lot to report, but those few quiet moments alone with Taylor were very intimate and erotic for me. Just a little while ago I never would have thought of her that way. I’ve painted her nails dozens of times and never thought twice about it, now, when I do it, there’s a little bit of electricity in the air. Maybe it’s only one sided for now, but that might change. I mean, she asked me to give her her first orgasm after all, and even though it’s never come up again, I think she still thinks about it. We’ll see!
This is a new entry to my erotic journey. You might recall from Chapter One that Ryan was the recipient of a grand total of five blow jobs from me. I’d never given a bj before, and wanted a little experience under my belt. I’m a very curious creature, and even though I’m not romantically involved with Ryan, he’s cute, and a little shy, kind of geeky, and a virgin. That made it a little safer for me to mess around.
After the blow jobs, however, Ryan started expecting it. He’d come over, play my xbox360 and then act like it was blow job time. I don’t appreciate it when those kinds of demands are placed on me. I like a little respect, ya know? It wasn’t like he was offering to return the favor, not that I would have accepted anyway.
At first, I just made excuses. Then I started avoiding him altogether. But then, something changed. I started reading stories from Lit about these chicks who boss guys around and make them their little bitches. I’m not interested in chains and whips and stuff, but I do like the idea of having my own little do-boy. Ryan struck me as just that sorta guy, a little dorky, not very aggressive, not all ‘rah testosterone!!!’. There was potential there. I went back to those stories on Lit and started taking serious notes.
One day a couple of weeks ago Ryan was once again at my house, playing my copy of Halo:ODST (which I will rule you at), and I decided to take action! I figured, either he’d freak and tell me ‘no way’ or he’d do it. I had (and still have) no idea what I’d do with my own personal do-boy, but then, I never think these things through. I just act, and deal with the consequences later.
Anyway, I cut him off in the middle of his game and told him it was time to go. It was getting late, and I wanted to change into my jammies and be a girl without having a guy around. Then he gave me the familiar puppy-dog look.
I got this serious, bitchy look, and said something like, “What’s wrong now?”
He mumbled and shuffled his feet and muttered something about missing the ‘old days’.
I cut him off and said, ‘you mean you miss the free blow jobs.’
The look on his face was CLASSIC. His jaw actually dropped. He stammered and said that wasn’t what he meant. I shook my head and said that was exactly what he meant and he had better admit it if he ever wanted it again. I folded my arms across my chest and raised a brow and gave him the, ‘I’m waiting’ look. After a minute he nodded and said it was true, he came over looking for a blow job. I shook my head and told him that it wasn’t going to be like that anymore. I told him that I wanted respect, and I wasn’t getting any from him; he just wanted to play my games and stick his dick in my mouth. I talked dirty, not the way I normally do, but that is how the girls talk in the stories, and I wanted to shock him: Behold, the New Me!
How is it that a guy can get turned on while he’s getting rejected and dissed by a girl? I don’t know, but he was. The more I told him no, the more he wanted it. Finally he got this pleading look on his face and said he was sorry for disrespecting me, that he would be more than respectful in the future, and that he would do anything I wanted to make it up to me.
“Anything?” I asked.
I know what he was thinking. That I was going to say that I wanted him to go down on me or screw me or something stupid like that. But I wasn’t turned on and I wasn’t amused. I wanted to make him do something he didn’t want to do.
“Get down on your hands and knees and kiss my feet.” I gave him my best bitch stare. Ice queen.
Still, I didn’t think he’d do it. No one is that desperate. No one is willing to degrade themselves for the prospect of head. güvenilir casino That’s only in the stories, right? Wrong.
He dropped down almost before I finished speaking and planted a kiss on each foot and looked up at me like a quick peck was going to cut it. I shook my head. Not. Good. Enough.
Now picture this: a minute later I’m sitting on my couch and this guy has my big toe in his mouth, sucking like there’s no tomorrow, and I’m trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do next.
I dismiss him. That’s right. “You’re dismissed.”
Fast forward a couple of weeks. Ryan and I haven’t spoken, and I’ve almost forgotten about the toe incident. I did check with my advisers on Lit, and had a few ideas up my sleeve if he showed his face at my place again. This past Saturday, he did.
This time, he’s a lot more respectful…the boy is learning his lessons! He knocks on my door, I’m doing homework at my desk. Without a hello or even a smile I point him to the couch and tell him to be quiet until I’m done. He doesn’t say a word. Looking back on it, I should have made him sit on the floor, but hey, I’m new at this.
After a few minutes, I turn my attention to him and we start talking. I tell him things aren’t going to be like they were. I’m in charge, and you can’t give orders while you’re taking it in the mouth, it just doesn’t work like that. He said I could be that way with HIM, because he respected me now.
I laughed. After I regained my composure, I asked him how bad he wanted a blow job from me, and wouldn’t it be easier just to get one from another girl.
Ryan quickly shook his head. He didn’t want another girl, he wanted one from me.
So now it was time to get serious. The Ice Queen expression came back with full force. “So you’re saying you’ll do anything I want, in exchange for a blow job.”
“You’ll be me tool, my personal bitch?”
“Yes.” No hesitation.
I shook my head, and he got all dejected. Then I dangled out a sliver of hope, “You’ll be my bitch in exchange for the possibility of a blow job. If I’m in charge, I don’t have to make any promises.”
He expression changed. He was hopeful now. “Ok,” he said.
“Just to be clear, Ryan, that means all the time, not just here in my room.”
“All the time,” he said, and I could tell he was getting very horny.
“Then you know what to do,” I said. He got back on his hands and knees and kissed my feet again. I think he likes it. Physically, this does nothing for me. But, I have to admit, the power rush is a huge freaking turn on for me. Huge. I had no idea it would be this way.
Once I was satisfied that he was going to be compliant, I put him to work. Laundry, cleaning my room, making my bed, cleaning my bathroom. The boy spent three hours at my house, doing all my chores for me. I even made him fold my socks and undies and put them away. It was great!
After he finished everything I could think of to make him do, it was time for the inspection..bwah ha ha…I put my bitch face back on and made him follow me around while I looked over everything. I hafta admit, the boy did a good job.
I led him back to my room and locked the door behind us. I asked him if he enjoyed being my tool so far.
He nodded and said he did.
Then I asked him if he thought he deserved a reward. He said something like, “If you think I deserve one, then I would like it.”
Not quite the answer I was looking for, but close, so I said to him, “Take your clothes off.”
Again, it was such a huge turn on watching him undress while I was fully clothed. I let him stand there, butt naked, hard as rock. I told him to turn around so I could look at his ass. I’m not really a butt fan, but I wanted to embarrass him, and it worked.
Then I followed one of the suggestions of my Lit buddy. I had him lay on his back on my wood floor, put on some latex gloves, and got the hand lotion.
I have to admit, I like Ryan’s dick. It’s not too small, and not too big. It just feels right.
I took my time. This wasn’t for Ryan at all, it was for me, he was simply getting the benefit of it. I never noticed how purple a penis will get when a guy is close to coming. To Ryan’s credit, he lasted a pretty long time. Of course, I’m sure it helped that every time he got close I’d let go of his dick and let it flop around until it started to go soft.
I played with his balls. It didn’t do much for me, but it turned him on…I’ll keep that in mind for later.
After about twenty minutes or so I started to get bored, and poor Ryan was about to DIE. So, for the first time, I looked over at him and said, “Do you want to come?”
He nodded quickly and said, “Oh god yes!”
I stopped pumping and said, “Beg me.”
“Please, Sara, please make me come.” It was actually kinda sweet, but I was in the zone.
“What are you?”
“I’m your slave.” He actually said ‘slave’! It was great. This boy is MINE!
When he said that it turned me on again, so much that part of me wanted to get on top of him, but I’m not ready for that. So I started pumping as fast as I could and he sprayed all on his stomach and chest. He shot it so far up he almost hit me! Ryan was so into it he was even crying a little when it was over.