I got something special last night... look:
I got something special last night... look:
I love myself, I want you to love me
When I feel down I want you above me
I search myself, I want you to find me
I forget myself, I want you to remind me.
-- the DeVinyls, "I Touch Myself"
Thanks, everyone.And I appreciate it, Natalie -- I just wish I could afford to touch up the color!
And yes, his name starts with D., and mine starts with S. Too cute, huh?
I'm sorry I've been really busy (just started a new job) and haven't had time to update the story.
Where I left off, we were visiting his family together before he moved to my city on a permanent basis. Things were a little tense about the move (he didn't have a job in my city yet), but we were very happy. I was nervous but eager to show him my willingness to comply with whatever he desired.
We didn't have our own apartment yet, so the first night we stayed in my parents' guest bedroom. The next morning, before anyone else in the house was up, I persuaded him to close his eyes and not watch while I got dressed. I took out a skimpy pink rock concert t-shirt, and then dug into the back of the drawer and pulled out the padded bra. I squeezed myself into the t-shirt and a pair of my favorite jeans, and glanced in the mirror before telling him he could look.
When he first noticed my filled-out figure, he wasn't quite sure how to respond. He didn't want to seem too enthusiastic, but a nice thing about men is that it's easy to tell when they're excited.My heart was pounding inside the constricting push-up bra; I was so thrilled to feel his hands touching me with so much wonder and desire, but at the same time I felt afraid that he wouldn't want my natural body the same way.
"Take off your pants," he murmured, and I hurried to follow the instruction.
"Would you be upset if I asked you... to leave that on?"
"No, baby. It's ok."
He put his hands around my waist and guided me onto the bed, laying me out on my back, and began fucking me harder than I had previously thought possible. My knees were around my ears as I ran my fingernails down his back.
"please... lie to me..." he panted in my ear.
"I'm sorry?"
"Tell me you want to get implants."
"ah... ahh..." It was hard for me to focus on the conversation with him thrusting into me so powerfully.
"ok... " I paused for a moment and tried to compose myself before whispering into his ear...
"I want to be bigger. I want more. I want to walk into a room and know that everyone who sees me is thinking about fucking me. I never want to be jealous again -- everyone else should be jealous of me."
"yes... keep going..."
"I want to be perfect for you... I want to be your fantasy come true... I just want more... more... MORE!"
"Turn over." He backed up and guided me into a kneeling position on my ands and knees, and entered me again while squeezing my tits in his hands. I felt humiliated and used, but I also felt complete, like playing out the fantasy made it a part of me, not something to be afraid of. As he held me in his arms afterward, he told me that he would never make me do anything that would hurt me. I felt confused and insecure, but the sex had been incredible, and I loved the idea of embodying fantasies that he'd barely been able to tell me about. Part of me wanted him to back off and just accept me the way I was, but part of me really did want more.
I love myself, I want you to love me
When I feel down I want you above me
I search myself, I want you to find me
I forget myself, I want you to remind me.
-- the DeVinyls, "I Touch Myself"
There are currently 1 users browsing this thread. (0 members and 1 guests)