The more I have been writing, and working on my Tumblr, the more I have been assessing what I truly want… or need. OR something. I don’t know. The real world and my fantasies just seem completely at odds with each other.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a mindless sexual being. Oh wait… I am that already, but sadly I still have to work. And… Single.
I am one of those people who can be played with indefinitely. I don’t ever get tired of being used and stimulated. Truthfully, I think about sex all the time. I am like a spastic monkey on crack… and when I am getting sex, I want it like a drug. I love the thought of being used all the time… I once told a potential Daddy that when he was tired, he could strap me to a fucking machine and let my cries be music for his work day.
I read stories about women being turned into mindless ‘fucksluts’ through some sort of mind control… and I can honestly say that in my case, the mind control simply isn’t necessary. Running your fingers over my pussy is going to do it. Just touching me is. I want you. I want you all the damn time. I live my life perpetually moist. In fact, I can tell you that I am moist right now.
It’s true. I can feel my labia swelling… and that almost tickly feeling as my vag-ay starts lubing up. Soon, I will feel my honey at the edge of my outer lips… and it will fill up and that moisture will slip between them and coat the whole area. I was made for sex and I was made for it all the time. Please excuse me if I take a moment to slowly rotate my hips, so my own flesh ripples along my clit… it feels so good. This is my life in a state of permanent arousal. Sometimes I think I should be a prostitute, because I want it all the time but I don’t know if a line of strangers would be the satisfaction I am looking for. I want the men using me to care about me. To understand this gift I want to give them. Is the constant pleasure of my body a gift? I want to give it to a man who is worthy of it.
I read a story a long time ago about a club of older businessmen in London who kept a girl for their entertainment. They all chipped in for her care- she lived in a flat that they used as a clubhouse and they looked after her. They would come by and use her at their whim, and more often than not, they used her together. She was their toy, and whatever they wanted was her very desire. You could say she was like a group mistress, but it was more than that. There was the kink aspect of her being a group toy, to be sure, but it was how they did it. They all had their kinks, and she accommodated them all. She was insatiable, and between the lot of them, they could satisfy her ravenous desires.
I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. I masturbated to that story so much… It wasn’t even written very well, but the thought of it… the very thought. I could touch myself right now… Yes. That moisture I mentioned earlier is far more of a flood! Where are you?
My body was made to give pleasure. A man could tie me up and use me for hours. One boyfriend would fist me for hours. I was insatiable… the more you stimulate me, the more it becomes the entire focus of my being. It never gets boring and I just get wetter and wetter. Add alcohol, and I am mindless with desire. I need it… I crave it… and often, I can’t even orgasm, so I just need more and more and more. The more I want, the more your whispered perversions delight me. The more I will do anything you want… just for… more. I might need to sleep at some point, but when I wake up, we could start right where we left off. I am always wet. Always willing, and always wanting you.
Now, you might be thinking that I have a sex addiction or am an nympho. The thing is, I am chosey. I want this to mean something. I could go bang some guy from a bar, and as I have mentioned before, I have been to a couple of swingers clubs, and those interesting, but fleeting. I don’t just want to get fucked, I want to care, and be cared about. I want to be able to give in to my need and fantasy. Be able to give my whole self to this, and not be distracted by the rationality or doubts. Perhaps I want to be able to feed my ‘addiction’ in a completely safe circle where I can let myself go absolutely.
My problem is that I always want more, and men get tired. I know I have a desire for my Daddy, and to be Daddy’s dirty little girl, but the idea of belonging to a group like the one in the story makes me want to suck on my fingers with need. But how does one find a man or a group to do that? I tried looking on Craigslist for two men who wanted to share a woman… (oh, so bottom of the barrel!!!) and it was a colossal waste of time. The couple of groups I met couldn’t have organised themselves out of a paper bag, let alone a group… thing. I know this is terribly un 2014, (but of course, you know my kinks, and other kinks… and other kinks…. so I don’t think I need to qualify that!) but the lions share of me just wants to be a toy… a toy for a man or group of men that I can care about. That can take me from the world and wrap me up in a cloud of hands and lips and whispered deviancy… Their pleasure derived from my flesh and their mastery of my form. Yet… still there is respect and understanding of what they have…
Is this just fantasy? Could it be reality? And if it could be reality, how would one make it reality? I have never thought of myself as being Poly, exactly. Perhaps in my mind, I have phrased this as having a Daddydom who lets his friends touch me. But maybe it is changing. Is this 24/7 submission? Probably closest to that, but so hard to find. Perhaps I am just an oversexed, overripe piece of fruit. Perhaps I am just having a midlife/identity crisis.