Today is hell day, and there’s no way to avoid it. You see, last month I got fed up with not being able to log in to the forms part of my WordPress and decided to try out the Gravity forms package instead. One thing I found out is that though I can write , I’m uber crap when it comes to designing things and the Gravity forms you’re using to book a session looks like crap … I know … I designed it. Keep that in mind if you’re ever considering marrying me and have hopes that I’m going to interior design the heck out of our house so it looks like something out of House & Home magazine …
Another jiu jitsu triangle. My face is almost inside her pussy and worse … she is pushing my head harder into her sweaty shorts and I know it is over. I have to tap out. So I do. Loss #5000 in a row. “Again” my coach says with everybody watching me. I slap Rita’s hand and start to dream again just before we fight. This time I am thinking about her name … Rita … so close to our ladyboay Arita’s name … and I think wow I wish I could fight Arita instead. Then I start to think about the session last night with Arita and Mark and me and how Mark shouted out in the middle “oh my …
I want to pleasure you. I want to make you cum. I want to show you how good I am at worshipping you with my tongue. I I I I You see the common denominator here? Those are three copy and paste remarks from my emails to here in this story … and I’ve done so to make a point. That point being … the space between how most men percieve a sexual act and I how I percieve it are so far apart they might as well exist in separate parallel universes. To perhaps give you a better perspective on the subject let me pose this question to you : Does a gynecologist go home and dream about eating …
Since my blog is a conduit into the thoughts of your Mistress , I thought that in lieu of an official story you’d enjoy a peak into some of my email correspondance , as the first thoughts which pass through my mind after reading a fresh session request are some of the purest. So how do I actually follow through on emails? Perhaps we’ll start there. I read it , usually while sipping on “morning” coffee which for me remember is mid afternoon right after I’ve woken up. Usually my legs are propped up on my bed under a pillow while my weary arm is draped over the headboard and i’m grabbbing the first sip of my Nescafe instant roasted …
“With all due respect , you shouldn’t call this a Dirty Panty Session.” “What should I call it then” I asked. “You should call it a Filthy Panty Session , Mistress Wael.” It’s not a 5 minute part of the session ok. Not even 10 or 15 minutes. I sit like that until I have a very large fart to feed you. You should feel lucky then. I take the filthy panties out from your mouth. And you can breathe normal too … are you not happy? I can’t do math very well. I cannot do science very well. I was good at nothing in school. Only volleyball maybe. But one thing I …
Ladyboy ‘s and SpitRoasting , it’s like Peanut Butter and Jam , they’re meant for one another. Just like that juicy mouthwatering pb&j sandwich though , it’s “that” much better tasting when there’s an extra slice added to the sandwich. So just as I’m doing again tonight by inviting Mistress Wael to help out with my spitroasting session , I asked if she could help out for the first session on my first day back from Europe a few days ago. Like waking up in the hospital after being knocked out for an operation and you need an extra pair of hands to help balance as the wooziness wears off – so it is with me on my first …
Forced Bi , when neither forced , nor bi – but ‘accidental” is so incredibly hot that one might say it’s unparalleled. Like a pair of bookends , my last session prior to my European vacation and my first session back , have both involved my newest Ladyboy interests … and a bit of trickery. The trickery part of things … I’m not that proud of , gotta admit, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do – to get your fantasies properly played out as to your expectations. So we’re first going to address the last session I did before my month in Italy which , when I read the email detailing the session request back in …
Public Humiliation @ The Mall , Athens Greece I saw her first. Tall , volumptuous with long silky brown hair that was draped over her slighly shorter boyfriends head as she leaned her cheek against his coming up on the escalator. Her low cut yellow halter top was simple enough , but it was greatly accentuated by her small but perfectly rounded breasts – and her magnetic protruding pink nipple which stretched the malleable fabric – just so. I’m a great admirer of beauty , female or otherwise. I reckon that I compare favourably to her , save my height disadvantage. That I’m not tall is my greatest regret. Her boyfreind was cute too , I’d do him in …
I was told not to write a Buffalo story. A story about a hard life. Because all life in my country is hard. And you are used to this kind of story. But I am proud of my story. I don’t like it very much but I am proud of what I have done even if I don’t know how I did it all by myself so far. My Buffalo story is my sister. My love of my life. Born with Down Syndrome and in so much pain every day since we were young. My Buffalo story is also my dad. Who hits my mom. Wants everybody to fear him. But really is just because living …
It was a rainy Sunday morning if I recall correctly , I was nine years old at the time, and there I was huddled up with a blanket in the left corner of my small shoebox sized bedroom to get away from the water leaking in from the roof as it always did every rainstorm. Dad was downstairs already yelling and screaming at my mom for one of the last times before he took off forever while outside of my tiny window sounds of my idiot neighbour slurring his drunken words were being drowned out by the 8am droning of the neighbourhood military like speakers strung high a top the telephone poles reminding us to ’embrace the poverty and find …
