The Black Widow

Last night started innocently. I was meeting a new friend at the eighteenth street lounge for drinks, a mutual friend of ours introduced us.

We sat together and drank. Talked. Enjoyed the time with someone new and like minded. Champagne was my drink of the night. I smoked my entire pack of cigarettes with help from my new friend and some woman at the bar. Somehow, smiled pretty enough to have my gorgeous bartender top off my champagne now and again.

Pretty soon, I was indisputably drunk.

Things were still easy and cool. But, when the gorgeous buff persian came to return my hair clip, this is when the evening took the inevitable plunge for the worse.

You know, fortunately, or unfortunately, this one is engaged. And in my opinion he shouldn't be. Last time we hung out, I saw the license that said 1984, and I was born in 1978. If I am too young to get married, then he sure as shit is too. That's my opinion, but who am I to tell him what to do?

I am not like most women, who get huffy and offended when someone who is otherwise attached hits on them. But, I don't particularly like to encourage it either. Its the karma that gets me, aiding and abbetting. My new friend observes my obvious attraction to the other guy and starts to make tracks. "I'm outta here," he says.

What motivates us to take certain actions and reactions? Should I have let him go? I didn't.

Instead, I shifted my attention to this new boy. Shifted my energy of attraction. Shifted my ability to seduce over to this kind, platonic innocent interaction. Both are asking me if I need a ride home, or if I'll be ok with this other guy. For a split second I really celebrate this attention. I'm standing here in a bar, and two hot blooded men are both completely focused on me.

Gorgeous Persian hunk goes to his car, giving me a moment to focus again on new white boy. Comes back with my hair clip and asks again if I want a ride home. I know I am going to be all over him if I take him up on it. I should've known that I was a time bomb in a body at that point. Sent them both home, but in that moment, I wanted to bring both of them over. Somewhere in my brain I think that this would be the best way to solve the conflict. True to form this comes out of my mouth and my new friend starts making tracks again. I grab onto him, and feel panicked. No! I'll fall into the trap of carnal desire! Mustn't make out with engaged boys! I use all of my will power to say good bye to gorgeous Persian hunk. Pay my tab and let my new friend take me home, biting my knuckles the whole way to the car.

The decision to go home with the new white guy over the engaged Persian one seemed logical. It was the right, adult thing to do. And my decision making skills at this point are hazy at best. Even I didn't know or expect what was going to happen in a few hours, but man. I should've. I've seen this movie a million times before.

We go inside and smoke. I pull out these crabs that my older Persian brought for me. Start eating crabs and talking. Again. I found this safe space of non sexual time together. Found myself beautiful, enjoying his company, not trying to be sexy, or interesting or smart, not particularly trying for anything. I felt all those things already. We go out for a cigarette, after he's said he's leaving a few times. I know he doesn't want to, so I urge him to stay. We were both smart in that hazy plunge towards bad decisions, we both understood that this wasn't the place for it, for this sexual overture, at all. We respected each other.

So of course, as I'm getting sleepy, I invite him to stay. And of course, he wants to but doesn't want to.
This is an announcement. Autopilot entrapment has been switched on. The black widow has a fly in her nest, and is about to consume it.

I tell him that I understand his hesitation, and that the obvious right decision is for him to go home, but why can't two bodies just connect? That we would just sleep. And since I make a case for it, I am now invested. My energy is focused on it. Almost a sense of self worth starts to ride on whether or not he will stay. Will he buckle?

He is perceptive. He says, "I want to, but for some reason I want to keep it from you."
I sit silently. Looking down.
And then
"But of course I'll give it to you."

My face changed. I didn't know it until he pointed out that my mouth, one side of it, curled up to my eye, like the joker.
It was strong feedback.

Because that is what it was. I caught you. You've succumbed. You have now entered the twilight zone.

I get into pajama pants, and a red tank top as I get ready for bed. Pad around my apartment in baggy ladybug pajamas, then I think better of it and switch over to blue cotton underwear. I usually don't wear clothes to sleep, but when guest are over, I do. This whole time is smattered with hesitating almost departures by my friend. Honestly, now I just feel bad. I should have let him go home.
We lay down.

There's is something that happens to a mans body when he lays down with a woman. He on his back, me in the dip of his shoulder, still innocent, push my hair up, get comfortable, fidgit, adjust, and now, I'm falling asleep. He has me wrapped. He's thinner. I don't like the way he smells up close. He feels vulnerable. I want to honor this body, I hug him, but my mind darts to Reza.. A moment of remorse about the fact that I am with someone else right now. And two nights ago. And a few nights before that. What it means that he hasn't called. A pang of I wish this was him. Like birds flying, a few more thoughts, I am relaxed in and aaaaalmost asleep when

the CD starts skipping. Goddamnit.

He gets up to change it and then comes back. This time we lay on our sides, my back to his front. His hands want to roam, but they don't. He kisses my neck. Pushes into my ass. He's slowly moving, enough to keep me awake. I want to be touched, but I don't want to be licked, and I tell him so. He finds it strange. I flip around on my back.. And things progress even further. His hands start roaming my body. I shudder when he hits my nipples, that's all I wanted him to do... But after sucking on one, then the other, then back to the first, he continues to kiss down my stomach, approaching my blue underwear, licking around it, and eventually pulling it off. As he does, I say, "you don't want to do that" and he answers "I don't?" And I don't know what made me not care. I felt like he's probably ok, and hopefully I am too. I have these scenarios often, and stay good at keep things at a safe level of play, but when I get too trashed, I am a little more sloppy about it. And last nite was one of those nights.

He's slow and meticulous. It felt good, I tried to relax, almost got far a few times, and then of course, as usual, I didn't get off, because well.. I just don't with strangers it seems. After what feels like forever, he finally finally seems to gain enough strength to walk away from me. I'm naked and sleepy. I know when I get to this point I am cute, and implored him to just lick me a little more.. And he does, and tells me how I taste good. Looks at me and says, "that wasn't too painful was it..."

I shake my head, "no, it was really nice." As soon as he leaves I grab my vibrator and give myself a clean quick orgasm, it takes all of 2 minutes.

Its depressing to write this. I don't know what the deal is, as if the fact that I can get someone to that point means something? As if I am powerful? I feel awful. Sex drives me crazy.

I need a boyfriend, p r o n t o.

Hey Daddy

On June 16th, I wrote an ad on criagslist. It was called "Daddy". Went something like this:

I am in such bad shape today, and cannot get a particular fantasy out of my head: the daddy fantasy.

I dont really know why its affecting me like this, I have a good relationship with my father, and cant say that this is related at all to the relationship I have with him, but I do really want someone to treat me like a little girl, to punish me for being naughty, to spank me for having bad thoughts, and to do other things depending on my comfort level. This is about exploring a fantasy, and having fun. I'd prefer my "daddy" to be a little older, but not older than 45ish, and handsome. Those of you into this write me with suggestions and proposals, and I will pick whomever turns me on the most.

I am a sassy spoiled exotic curly haired vixen. I am constantly naughty, constantly masturbating, constantly indulging. I obviously need to be disciplined. Tell me what and how you will do that.

It does not take a genious to see that I would get a number of responses to this. Most of my contestants were older, married white guys. I don't on principle like making generalizations, but I have to notice from time to time that almost all of the dirty shit I have done or explored has been white guys.. but maybe thats another story.

A few stood out to me, but for the most part, not that much. I just started to file them all into a folder called daddy, then organize them by sender so I could count up how many people had responded. I counted about 53. I started to see that there were a lot of different kinds of daddies. There were black daddies, and white daddies. I had an indian or two as well. Some of them wanted to fuck you. Some wanted to adore you and spoil you. Some just wanted to spank you, but all of them wanted to punish and reward you for being a good girl/bad girl. This whole topic took on an air of interest to me; for as opposed to the sub/dom vein, this was about being naughty, being punished, and being adored, all things that I knew I could play to the hilt, and that excited me. One or two appealed to me on an intellectual level, and I allowed this particular one to chat with me on the computer. Somehow, he convinced me to let him pick me up from work, and take me home. Married though. This was a funny time, he picked me up in a black suv, we chatted in the car, he was a big guy physically, and kind. The idea of this was something I could tell interested him, and he played daddy well. After a brief struggle with my prior committment to myself to go to yoga, I let him come in and pat my pussy a bit, spank me once or twice, and finger me to orgasm, all the while telling me what a bad bad bad pussy I had, and how I was a good girl, but the pussy, that bad pussy was what got me in trouble.

It was funny... but it made me come.

Not to get too far into this guy, it was just a test run... My married people pattern kept me from exploring further with him. I can't do too well getting past that, getting past a certain point with them. It detracts from the experience.

So the next day I came back to work, to more responses to my Daddy post. I send the link to this lebanese guy that I've talked to off an on for a few months, since he answered my I'm persian but bisexual and you should be cool with that ad back in January or February. He'd been up my ass for my stories for a while, then for whatever reason it'd been a while since I talked to him...

I strike up a conversation about this. He's 38, older than I would want normally, so we never met up. But as we start talking about it, I realize that he's actually a great candidate for the Daddy fantasy. He confesses that he loves this sort of thing, and I ask when he wantes to come over and spank his little girl for being such a slut. He wants to come tonite, later.. I talk him into coming earlier. 6 instead of 10. By the time he left, I wished I had gone with the later time, but thought as usual.. understood, that less is more.

The instructions were to wear a short skirt, and a tight shirt, with no bra, and no underwear. "Heels?" I ask, and he responds, "yes". I suggest lingerie, I have some white lace but no, he says.. no underwear. I know what I am going to wear for him. I have these almost painful, but beautiful black stilettoes, about 4 inches high. A short plain dark grey thin material skirt, and this black shirt that I love, but is a few sizes too small. Its a collered button down, and the buttons always strain against my chest. "I have the perfect thing to wear," I tell him. "I know exactly what kind of little girl I am going to be for you." He tells me to smoke before he gets there. We even go so far as to arrange for me to be rubbing my pussy on an armchair or something when he arrives, to catch me doing something dirty...

It's on. The day is drawing to a close. He says hes leaving in ten minutes. I see his screen name sign off. Thats definately my cue to leave the office, but I linger. I look at the clock and it says 6 already! Shet. I make haste and find my way home. Get into my outfit, its 10 after, and maybe he's aready gone. No sign of him.. no phone message, I go out to look at the street from my patio, standing on a chair, barefoot in the grey skirt and black shirt scanning the street, its past 6 30 and I know the chances are slim that he'll come. Right then this slender attractive man walks up to the edge of the fence guarding my pit from the street. He's got curly black hair, and a flared nose. Curious and wide eyes. I took a moment to shift from the internet to real life as I told him what to dial for me to buzz him in, then scurried in to put on my heels. I couldn't get my hair in pigtails soon enough so I just left it down. He came in and had a seat. I walked over and sat down across from him, let my legs show, and crossed them with a good view of the pumps. We make pleasantries, as I get used to his energy.. hes attractive, and taunt. He comments on my chess board and I say, "yes I got this from iran." We decide to play. I want to smoke so we take it outside.

The game is wonderful. We are playing chess, the day is gorgeous, I feel very sexy, and almost slutty, but I am playing this intellectual game. He lets me take moves back from time to time. I'm winning, no, not winning, oh shit, I might have him, and now it his turn again. At one point I get up to get something to drink, I feel the shoes with every step I take. I felt the role that I was supposed to play. During the game, while I talk, I nontchalantly put my hair up in pigtails. We are both totally taken with this situation.

Here, Right here, I come up with this outlandish idea.

My face puts on the cute little girl look and I bite my finger, smiling.
What is it, he asks me. Still smiling I wonder outloud what would he think if I was out here, playing chess with him, dressed like this, while wearing a remote control vibrator, with him at the control?

He balks. You have one? he askes and with a very bad girl smile I nod, slowly. He looks pleased and returns his focus back to the game. He moves. Its my turn. I move, then wordlessly get up. Walk into the apt to grab the red plastic encased bullet from "Election Day", and its remote. I test the batteries, they work and then take the whole gadget outside, and place it on the table next to him, then take my seat and return my gaze to the game. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as he picks it up, looks at it, takes the remote and starts testing it out. I note with pleasure that he figures it out on his own. A few minutes later, after he's set it back down, I pick it up, and watching him, I slip one then the other stilettoed foot through the black elastic bands, making sure he sees me pull it up and sit back down.

This marks the second half of the game. He goes through the cycle of speeds perfectly, all the while keeping a good game going, and I'm sitting there tickled with the chess, the exotic man in front of me, I like his arm hair, I like his calm watching. He lets me take a move back where I would have lost my queen. I smoke cigarrettes feeling very very bad to be smoking in front of my "daddy". But he doesn't say anything, doesn't seem to mind. He reaches over and changes the speed on the remote from the first (quick pulse "ta ta ta ta" to the second (a more drawn out vibrating pulse "taaaa taaa taaa"). I fold my legs in and squeeze. It feels lovely. I am so tickled at this moment, finding myself in on of the most pleasant and elaborate masterbation sessions I have had to date. He stops the vibe and I'm left gasping. A few seconds later, its back on, and with a jolt my body picks up where it was dropped for a moment, slowly moving my hips, slowly and hopefully indecernably rubbing my nipples on the edge of the table.

He seems like hes losing focus, he makes a bad move and so do I. The game is drawing to a close, in three moves, I'll have check mate. He switches the vibe to the third and for me most effective setting. The long non ending vibration. Momentarily my eyes roll back behind my eyelids and I forget all about the game, but then realize its my turn and I move in for the kill. He stares at the board for a while, moves, and then... its checkmate!

Im jubilant. yay I won. He's shaking his head and giving me a next time look. Looks at me and shifts the vibe a few settings to land on nothing, then number one, then three.... and then off. Hands the remote back to me and says, "Unfortunately, I need to go."

Oh no, I'm finally all warmed up and he has to go?! Shet.
Why, where? I ask and he tells me bethesda in about 20 minutes, for a 25 minute drive.

I lean over a little, set my body differently and look at his face, as cooly as possible, I say, " Youuu... don't wanna fuck around with me for a minute?"
He looks daaaamn tempted.

Yeah, he'll fuck around with me for a minute. I'm still wearing the vibe, and he moves me into the bedroom. He grabs me by the hair (pigtail) and shoves me down on the bed. One big FWAP! on my ass. It feels good. FWAP! another one. I breathe harder. He lays me down on my back, and goes looking for something. . . he wants to tie me up, but then lets that go as he comes back and opens my shirt up. Sticks his hand into my shirt and grabs my nipple. Grabs my whole tit and starts to fondle it. Turns me on my side and gives me another one on the ass, my skirt is obviously pulled up at this point. And then...
right then...
he waves his hand above me, like hes going to reach somewhere or grab something,
the anticipation is killing me..

and he looks at me with a slight slight smile...
and out of my mouth, a wimper.. "jesus..."

and his hand comes to meet my cheek, in a friendly light slap...
as if to say, next time, I'm really going to get you.

and he leaves.

Why I hate blowjobs.

I am reading rants and raves today, distracted from work by my night last nite.

I come across the topic of date rape.
I just want to write this out. I sure as hell don't need anyone saying that I asked for this, I didn't. I don't know, maybe I did.

I am of the sexually adventurous variety. If its novel, I want to try it. If its risky, it catches my attention. So the CE ad that said that he wanted to finger me in a bar appealled to me. I write a quick response, and eventually we agree to meet about 10..
It has happened before, and happened last nite, that I will meet someone and realize, on point, right then that I am not interested in fucking around with this person. He looked like a giant, like a cyclops from the odyssy. Tummy. Hard intense (not in a good way!) eyes. I had brought my friend with me and suggested to everyone that we just grab a drink together and go home.. The bar wasnt crowded at all.. and I am not trying to get with him.

So she complies, we chat, then 11 comes and its time for her to go home. Im left alone with him. Its raining outside, and the tall boots that I am wearing are a bitch to walk in so I want a ride home. I can already tell this is going to be a little difficult by the gleam in his eyes.

"so does she know why youre here?"
"yes.. " I answer, and fidget around on my stool. "but I really dont think Im up for it after all"
He looks at me and he looks pissed. Not dissappointed, pissed.
"ohhh.. you don't look happy" I am trying my best to stay cool.
"just turn a little. just make me happy for a minute. i bought you a drink, you showed, up, youre all dressed up..." he takes my chair and physically turns me towards him.
um..
"yeah, but I'm just not feeling it."
"ok, if youre not feeling it youre not feeling it." We sit in uncomfortable silence for a minute.
But he doesn't let up. I think I've said no about 4 different ways by now, but he puts his hands on my thigh anyway. and starts teasing up my inner thigh. and even though my legs are still closed, hes pushing up between my legs. I realize he's not going to give up and tell him I need a shot of tequila to continue. So we order one. I guess I figure that if I just let him do it, it will be over faster and I'll have fullfilled the agreement..

Well soon enough the bar manager (theres about 5 people in the bar total, inc. us) comes up and stands behind us, just staring. Fingering guy isn't that subtle either. But what he was doing wasn't bad, was kind of good, and so I tried to forget it was him, even though he was talking about wanting to fuck me the whole time.. And when the manager just stood there, staring at us, he stops. We sit there waiting for him to leave, then he pays the tab and we leave.

Heading to his truck, he offers me a ride, and offers to finish what he started. Walking behind him, I follow him to a big red truck, staring at the meathead crew cut neck in front of me. At this point I decide I am ok with this, he started, may as well finish it. I reiterate as I get in the car that I am only here to be fingered, nothing else. He agrees, and just says he wants to finish what he started. And he does and I come, and I think thats that. But its not.

Do you care to return the favor he asks me and I tell him that that is not what I signed up for. He pushes a little more, but "oh I am hot now, and I need to come" and I sure as shit dont want to touch his dick. So I offer what I feel is a compromise. I tell him he can jerk off for me. And so he does, and I touch myself to hurry the process along, spreading my legs wide. I touch my nipple, spread my lips and eventually, he gets off.

I straighten everything back up and say, "take me home now?"
"take me home, please" he replies.

And he does. We ride back to my block corner, and park in the bus zone. He explains to me that he is a dominant, and since theres a guy that I like thats very dom, I go amiable and start asking questions about what would get him, how can I seduce him, etc. (My guy, not the "date" or whatever he is). We chat for a while, and eventually he looks at me again, and says "spread your legs". I do. "scoot up towards me" and I do. To me its an exercise in submission, something I am curious about. And he pinches my nipple, and twists it hard. And then spanks at my pussy. I hardly flinch, and find the whole thing curious. This is when things start to go wrong.

"If i give you an orgasm will you suck my dick?" This is right when hes got fingers all over my clit, ass, pussy, whatever.. and has me in a rather hightened state of arousal.
I slit my eyes at him. "No, I don't want to suck your dick."
"Ok, then I won't give you an orgasm, I'll just tease you till you break"
I'd like to see that. I've taken a lot, just on my own, and with other people. I shrug my shoulders and settle back for the face off of it. He teases. spanks my pussy. whatever whatever. And all the while keeps asking me, telling me to suck his dick. And I keep saying that if he wants to give me an orgasm cool, but I really dont want to suck his dick. I mean I am thinking maybe, could I? No, I don't want to. And thats when he reaches out and pulls me down by my hair, pushing my face onto his dick. And my mouth goes over it. And in my head, I go awww shiiiiiit, because now my mouth has made contact with his penis, and I get up and he takes me by the back of the neck and says suck it. and so I do for a little while longer going up and down, trying to get it over with, but the thing is disgusting, I feel disgusting, I'm pretty clear I've said no more than once, and I get up again, trying a different angle... "this isnt fair, you said if you give me an orgasm, and you havent done anything, why am I sucking your dick" and he comes back with "oh, I'll give you an orgasm" and proceeds to stick his fingers back in my cunt, simultaneously grabbing me by the back of the neck "suck my dick" and pushing me back on his cock. plfffft, I'm swallowing cock again, and I'm trying to stare at this cock and determine if theres a disease on it, or what the hell is going on, and why the fuck is it in my face and WHO THE FUCK does this guy think he is thinking its candy cane OK to slam my head on his cock like this, and its starting to just get disgusting, and over the cock I try to spit, I start to heave and I am not interested in sucking this cock and I do not want to be here and with final resolution I sit back up saying "I DONT want to do this and now watch I'm going to get some fucked up disease and feel shitty about myself!" At which point he finally stops.

I straighten myself out and stare at the floor. I can feel his eyes on me.
I think about that orgasm I am supposed to get for engaging in this shit. I think about my apartment, and how I don't want to be here. I think about the fact that I will n e v e r get the memory of this crap out of my mind, and how I knew from the beginning that this guy would be trouble.

With absolute clarity, I say, "You know what. I don't need your fucking orgasm." Reach for the handle and get out, without looking at him. Walk over to my building and go inside. I hear the car engine rev, and glance over as it pulls out, and away.

What is this? I went inside and cried for an hour solid. I kept thinking damn, it could have been worse. He could have driven me to the middle of nothing-ville and really raped me. He could have gone psycho on me, he could have somehow made his way into my apt, and banged the shit out of me. Just sucking dick shouldn't be a big deal, but I really feel angry at what happened. I feel violated, disrespected, and taken advantage of. So when I saw the thread on date rape, the many shades of grey, the asssssshole men who are joking around about how you shouldnt tell anyone she looked scared, you tell them she looked ready to go, and in general men that engage in this behavior, I agree with the OP of 'Date Rape, and rape in general' that "You're just worthless, dispicable pieces of filth who don't deserve to breathe. You should all have your dicks cut off and mounted on the wall of the woman (or God forbid, WOMEN) you attacked...for them to do with as they please"

You suck my dick fuck heads are the reason that I date women. I hate you!