Straight Female / 37
Therapist: Deep Down Inside I Was Looking For A Man To Love Me
I was born in 1986 to a single mother. My father, he never cared and never had anything to do with us. We lived with my grandparents, and my grandmother took care of me and my mother worked. I was an only child. There wasn't much money, so even if I was spoiled, it wasn't with money or things. I was raised to be independent. I worked from the time I was 14, I had to by my own underwear. Thru my tweens and teens I developed a nice rack and ass to go with it. I liked what I saw in the mirror and spent hours prancing and posing in every sex position imaginable. When I got a phone with a camera I was the queen of naked selfies, but I didn't share them with anyone.
I read voluminously confessions and stories about sex and viewed hundreds of videos. I knew exactly how I was going to hold a dick when the time came, and how I was going to go down on it. I dreamt, woke up from dreams, where I was being screwed by all sorts of men. My favorite position was being tied over a table and screwed from behind like a dog. In spite of it all I never dreamt of anal. I developed a wild and dirty vocabulary and used it among girls. It didn't bother me to say 'c**t' or 'pussy' or 'cock sucker' or 'mother fucker'. I was by reputation a nasty little girl, but it was all in my head. The first time I saw a dick I screamed and called him a rapist.
I went to a junior college part time, and after getting enough hours transferred to the city four year college. I graduated in 2010 with a degree in marketing. I went to work in a male dominated company as a clerk in their marketing department. Men hit on me and more than one tried to grab me. I kept my mouth shut, I didn't care if it was technically harassment. The shit hit the fan when I had to get my computer worked on and I had to give my pw to the IT guy. My PW was 'pleasefuckme'. He told his boss who told my boss who told his boss. Not because there was a problem, they were just sharing my pw and looking at me. It was my boss' boss who asked me 'just how do you want to get fucked?' and he told me about my pw. He also told me to stick to numbers and symbols.
He took it upon himself to uncover why I used such a pw and he interrogated me until I confessed all about how I grew up and how I liked seeing myself naked and how I masturbated and how I dreamed of a man breaking in and fucking me. He sent me to a therapist, who diagnosed me with being a girl. A pretty hung up and sex hungry girl, but a girl. I just wanted a man in my life, one who fucked me.
I shared some of my pictures, on the phone, I didn't send them to him. I had hundreds and he went through everyone of them. He told me I had a nice rack and a nice ass, things I already knew, and I had a 'delectable' pussy. He wanted to get his tongue in it, and then get his dick in it. So how about it? Spread my legs for him and he would make sure I lived the dream, he would tie me to a table and fuck me like a dog. But shave my pussy first.
The table was his table in his office. I shaved for him in his private bathroom, with a towel on the floor, and then he tied my hands to the legs of the table across from me and put tape on my mouth before he stuck his dick in me, slapping my butt while he fucked me. He kept asking me how I liked it and I kept nodding my head that I liked it. He took the tape off my mouth and offered me his dick to suck before untying me.
He took me to Victoria Secret to buy me underwear, that he picked out and wanted to see me in it. He took me to restaurants, and strip joints to see other girls get naked. He took me to wine bars to watch girls get picked up by strange men. He took me New Orleans and Bourbon street to see the whores and the pimps. He also took me to revival meetings, and to church and had me pray at dinner. He took my phone from me and dropped it on the floor and smashed it with a hammer. Only he could see me naked and no more pictures.
He kept me with him, and only let me use bad language while he had sex with me. His favorite position was nailing me on my stomach, deep and hard and coming in me. On my back it was too much conversation and he said I looked up at him asking to be kissed too much. He took me on vacation and bought me a pretty necklace. He bought me clothes and shoes and everything. If I used bad language he washed my mouth out with soap, he kept a bar at the kitchen sink for it.
My mother and grandparents never did understand why I was the girlfriend of a man older than my mother, probably older than my father. They didn't understand, that he was the man I wanted to fuck me.
I read voluminously confessions and stories about sex and viewed hundreds of videos. I knew exactly how I was going to hold a dick when the time came, and how I was going to go down on it. I dreamt, woke up from dreams, where I was being screwed by all sorts of men. My favorite position was being tied over a table and screwed from behind like a dog. In spite of it all I never dreamt of anal. I developed a wild and dirty vocabulary and used it among girls. It didn't bother me to say 'c**t' or 'pussy' or 'cock sucker' or 'mother fucker'. I was by reputation a nasty little girl, but it was all in my head. The first time I saw a dick I screamed and called him a rapist.
I went to a junior college part time, and after getting enough hours transferred to the city four year college. I graduated in 2010 with a degree in marketing. I went to work in a male dominated company as a clerk in their marketing department. Men hit on me and more than one tried to grab me. I kept my mouth shut, I didn't care if it was technically harassment. The shit hit the fan when I had to get my computer worked on and I had to give my pw to the IT guy. My PW was 'pleasefuckme'. He told his boss who told my boss who told his boss. Not because there was a problem, they were just sharing my pw and looking at me. It was my boss' boss who asked me 'just how do you want to get fucked?' and he told me about my pw. He also told me to stick to numbers and symbols.
He took it upon himself to uncover why I used such a pw and he interrogated me until I confessed all about how I grew up and how I liked seeing myself naked and how I masturbated and how I dreamed of a man breaking in and fucking me. He sent me to a therapist, who diagnosed me with being a girl. A pretty hung up and sex hungry girl, but a girl. I just wanted a man in my life, one who fucked me.
I shared some of my pictures, on the phone, I didn't send them to him. I had hundreds and he went through everyone of them. He told me I had a nice rack and a nice ass, things I already knew, and I had a 'delectable' pussy. He wanted to get his tongue in it, and then get his dick in it. So how about it? Spread my legs for him and he would make sure I lived the dream, he would tie me to a table and fuck me like a dog. But shave my pussy first.
The table was his table in his office. I shaved for him in his private bathroom, with a towel on the floor, and then he tied my hands to the legs of the table across from me and put tape on my mouth before he stuck his dick in me, slapping my butt while he fucked me. He kept asking me how I liked it and I kept nodding my head that I liked it. He took the tape off my mouth and offered me his dick to suck before untying me.
He took me to Victoria Secret to buy me underwear, that he picked out and wanted to see me in it. He took me to restaurants, and strip joints to see other girls get naked. He took me to wine bars to watch girls get picked up by strange men. He took me New Orleans and Bourbon street to see the whores and the pimps. He also took me to revival meetings, and to church and had me pray at dinner. He took my phone from me and dropped it on the floor and smashed it with a hammer. Only he could see me naked and no more pictures.
He kept me with him, and only let me use bad language while he had sex with me. His favorite position was nailing me on my stomach, deep and hard and coming in me. On my back it was too much conversation and he said I looked up at him asking to be kissed too much. He took me on vacation and bought me a pretty necklace. He bought me clothes and shoes and everything. If I used bad language he washed my mouth out with soap, he kept a bar at the kitchen sink for it.
My mother and grandparents never did understand why I was the girlfriend of a man older than my mother, probably older than my father. They didn't understand, that he was the man I wanted to fuck me.
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