The Blue Spatula

The Blue SpatulaTonight I listlessly clicked through pages of videos, hoping to find the elusive clip that would have me cumming satisfyingly hard within minutes. The Invites window barely garnered any of my attention, with its requests from men who were thousands of miles away or 10 years younger than I. Sure I still looked at the profiles out of curiosity, especially the fav videos–after all, I was on my own search for release. Admittedly, I also enjoy the idea of looking through the window of a stranger’s sexual psyche to find out what really gets them off.His profile pic initially captured my attention–a latex suit? How American Horror Story. Point. Click. Favorites. I immediately feasted my eyes on beautiful southeast Asian pussy. Hmmm. Being bound, fed cock, and and teased to cum–of one’s own volition the first time but thereafter made to cum over and over again? Yes, please. Spanking? Creampie? Throat fucking? Yes, yes, please, yes. As porn aficionados we should affirm each other, right? I should do just that. “love your favorites”, then I went along my merry way, maximizing the message window a few moments later to see if I just in fact connected with a sentient human that wasn’t in the midst of furiously jacking off. Imagine my surprise: “Thank you. You’ve got a nice little collection started yourself. What are you into?” I was sucked in. Sure, why not be honest about my spectacular failure canlı bahis şirketleri of a marriage, or how I’ve begged my husband to dominate me for years and while he’s humored my desires he’s also not so silently judged me about my “perversions”. Oh wait, that is not the shit that gets a guy’s dick hard. After 8 years of marriage so many foundational cards like love and trust in our very tenuous house folded that I was no longer reserved about what made my pussy soaking wet and I told this stranger just that. He kindly asked questions and also shared scenes he’s been in that simultaneously made my clit throb and my body flinch. He too was married, though she didn’t share his passion for his “dark side”. Relationships are a series of trade-offs I suppose.”Any interest in playing a little online submission game right now?” My instinctual reactions–what kind of game? I have boundaries you know. No, I won’t give you my home address, even if my husband is away on business. Where’s the thrill to the “online” aspect of submission? I was stupid enough to his Send for only one of those, then I decided fuck it–“sure, why not”. “What is the sexiest outfit you currently own?” Fuck if I know–I work in a professional setting, have not had a good fucking in I don’t know how long, and the only physical human contact I’ve had in months is from my students. I couldn’t tell sexy from a goddamned lamppost. canlı poker oyna He settled upon a chemise–a piece I’d bought optimistically anticipating sex, that had remained unworn in the utter dejection of a cold marriage. I slipped it on and went back to my laptop awaiting his next request–this was kind of exciting. He patiently guided me through “finding something that would sting a bit if you were smacked with it” eventually settling upon a blue spatula that from here on out will always make my pussy wet upon sight, even when in use to make chocolate chip cookies. Somehow in between we learned that we work in the same industry, in the same region. Hmmph.”Here is your task. Start by sliding your dildo in your pussy slowly”. Mmmm he was talking my language. A full pussy makes a happy girl. “Now, spread your legs wide”. Check. He didn’t have to ask twice. “Take the spatula, and smack your pussy five times with the spatula end. Each time, count out loud, and each time hit yourself harder than the last”. I paused for a split second–am I actually going to do this? Before I mentally completed formulating that question my legs were already spread and my pussy lips were swollen and slightly parted. A resounding yes. Smiling sheepishly. Spank. “One”. Spank. “Two”. Mmmm. Spank. “Three”. Spank. Ungh. “Four”. Spank. Whimpering. “Five”. He had me repeat this treatment on my spread pussy with the internet casino narrow handle of the spatula that mercilessly parted my lips to make my tender clit sting and my pussy even wetter. “I’m training you to be my little virtual pain slut”. Thank you Sir. I slipped a dildo in my ass for him and was his good little girl and spanked my ass the way he requested. He wanted to know what I looked like–my pussy did the thinking for me and I took and sent pictures I never thought I would, or should share. My iPhone–facilitating rash horny decisions one message at a time. I pinched my nipples and spanked my breasts for him following his instructions to the letter, knowing that they’ll be sore when I’m in class tomorrow, a reminder of how I was this stranger’s slut. “Walk to the window, open the curtains or d****s if they are closed, and stand there in the dark and use the vibrator to cum.” Without a second thought I stood in front of my bedroom window, breasts bare to the cold Michigan night air, dildo in my ass and vibrator in my wet pussy and came hard for this stranger. I had to brace my shuddering body against the window frame while I held the vibrator directly on my much too sensitive clit and made myself to cum for him a second time, since he had decided that I was to cum twice for him. When I’d somehow stumbled back into bed I proudly told him that I came for him like he’d asked. I so wanted to be his good girl.He left me with his last directive for the night–“I have one last task for you tonight. Write about this…it doesn’t have to be long, just enough to let strangers know what you’ve been up to tonight.” I certainly hope this pleases you Sir.

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