|Blogs > rm_sub4u82 > Just Another Horny Girl|
Don't really know what to make of this......
Don't really know what to make of this......
I met N**** when i was about 6 years old, when he married one of my cousins. He was always very kind to me; he'd tell me that I was pretty and smart, and funny and cute. At that time, he and his wife used to come over a lot to our place, and we would go to theirs quite often, because they lived not far from my old family home.
Whenever he'd come round with his wife, he'd bring sweets and he'd take us to the park (that's me and my younger brother that is). I used to like writing stories and drawing pictures, so whenever we'd be at their house he'd get me to write/draw something up, and he'd compliment me. He made me feel very special.
I don't really remember when he started abusing me. I'd guess it was when I was about 8, but I really couldn't be sure; I think i just blocked it out. I don't even remember much of it, to be honest. I have vague memories of him touching me where he shouldn't have; cornering me alone when no one else was around, trying to kiss me and asking me to kiss him, amongst other things. This went on for a year at least, although I couldn't be sure of the length really.
I remember that I started to avoid him, begging my Mum not to take me to his house, and shying away when he and his wife came over. I wasn't entirely sure what he was doing to me, but i knew it was wrong, and I really started to dislike him. Eventually, when I was about 11, I told my elder sister's best friend about what he'd been doing. I'd told her because I couldn't face telling anyone closer to home, and she of course spread the message to my sister and then to my Mum. Lots of drama ensued, and we ceased to have any relationship with he or his wife.
When I was 15, my Mum went visiting family abroad, leaving me at home with my Dad. One day, in the afternoon when my Dad was at work, N**** rang unexpectedly. He must have known through the family grapevine that I was pretty much alone at home. He started by telling me that he was sorry about what had happened. He said he missed me. He said he couldn't help himself because I was so attractive. He said he watched me "ripen" -that was his exact word- and that he couldn't resist me.
I sat on the phone in silence, trembling from the shock of what I was hearing. I was paralysed, unable to hang up. He told me that he wanted to sleep with me. He said nobody would have to know. I mumbled "But you're married". He said if I didn't mind then it wasn't a problem. He said he could come round right this minute, and we could be together, alone. At this point, I was petrified. I told him my Dad was at home. He said he knew that my Dad wasn't, because it was afternoon time and my Dad would be at work. Despite being frightened, I recognised the danger I was in, and told him that i'd think about it and get back to him.
When I got off the phone, I called my elder sister, who alerted N****'s wife, and more drama ensued, resulting in the most heinous family feud imaginable. Of course he denied my allegations. He told his wife that I was trying to seduce him, and she bought it. I guess the truth really is a bitter pill to swallow.
The funny thing is that even though I hate him, and even though the thought of ever seeing him again conjures up images of me flying into a rage and punching his lights out........... sometimes I fantasise about him. I don't fantasise about the past, because that's something I block out/ignore mostly.I fantasise about agreeing to letting him come over.
I imagine myself telling him to come over, and I see myself getting into the bath, shaving and preening. I see myself emerging from the tub clean and smooth all over, smelling divine. I don't dry my hair; i wrap myself in a bath robe with nothing underneath. I sit waiting for him in the living room.
When I hear the doorbell ring, in my fantasy, it arouses me. I go to the door, my hair still dripping wet, in a skimpy bath robe bare footed. I open the door slightly, just so that he can see my wet hair and semi-naked appearance. He glances at me up and down enthralled, and then I open the door letting him in. He closes the door behind him, and I tell him to take off his shoes (a house rule imposed my my Mum that permeates even my subconscious). He doesn't take his eyes off me as I watch him do so.
I lead him to the living room where he sits in an armchair, and I tell him i'm going to get him a drink. In my fantasy, he doesn't talk; he just stares at me leeringly. I go to the kitchen and get him a drink. When I re-enter the room his eyes are fixed on the door, waiting for my return.
I put the drink down on the side table and standing before him, I lean over him, resting my hands on the armrests to either side of him. The front of my robe comes slightly undone, and my breasts are in his face, and I ask him "Do you want to touch me?" Before he can even respond I wave my breasts in his face, rubbing them against his lips, smothering him as he tries to catch them in his mouth.
I let him suck my nipples. In my fantasy, I am watching him now, while he dreamily sucks on me. Then I start to rub his cock, which is hard and huge and bulging. I get down on my knees in front of him, unzipping him and pulling his cock out expertly. I ask him "Shall I suck your cock?" I'm not sure why, but in my dreams the questions I ask him are significant; they turn me on.
I suck on his cock furiously. I watch him lean his head back, a look of ecstacy on his face. The more pleasure I see on his face, the harder and faster I suck, swallowing every drop of pre cum he releases, taking his cock deep inside me. It feels almost savage, like I'm crazed; but in my fantasy and in reality, this image of myself turns me on. I am insatiable.
Then, when I am done with sucking him off, I stand up and drop my bath robe, standing completely naked in front of him and his throbbing hard on. He stares at me, the same dreamy, delighted, lecherous look. I ask him "Do you want to touch my pussy?" Again, before there is any response, I lift one leg up onto the armrest, my other leg standing straight on the floor, my pussy exposed.
In this fantasy, my pussy is dripping wet and so beautiful to look at that it is surreal. He rubs it with his hands and fucks me with his fingers, and i tilt my head back in abandon.........but somehow he is the one who is dumbstruck with pleasure.
To climax, I ask him "Do you want me to fuck you?", before climbing onto him, straddling him and thrusting myself down on his cock. There is no build up to this, no teasing or rubbing. I simply sit on his cock and begin to fuck him. I fuck him hard and fast and deep, and the whole time I watch him moaning and groaning with pleasure. In reality, when I imagine this, I fuck myself with my fingers excitedly, to the same rhythm as my fantasy-fucking. I fuck him, and fuck him, and fuck him until he comes inside me; and even after he's come I continue to fuck him as if it were an act of defience.
I don't know how the fantasy ends, because by this time the real me has come, and my eyes open and the fantasy is over. And although it's an explosive orgasm, i'm always left wandering what it means.
8/10/2006 3:59 pm
This is not easy to say, but Ive been in your shoes. In essence this person was your first intimate contact, its normal for you to have unresolved sex issues. I really think what you may be wanting is some closure on it. |
best of luck
8/18/2006 11:39 am
thats not weird really and u dont need to feel weird about it at all! if u enjoy fantasising about him or anyone else in any situation then enjoy it for u and take it for what it is.|
Maybe ur fantasy is about reversing things on him and taking controll of things not letting him have power over you? and u enjoy the power over him, the way he desperately wants u? feels good?
you essentially own ur fantasies and sexuality and ur own pleasure. do what u want!