I’m learning more and more that I am young and wild but I’ve still got a fragile little heart that swells and hurts and swells and grows, just maybe.
bow
A guy in my cohort sent me a jokey flirty message saying he thought good girls went to bed early.
Dude.
DUDE.
One does not simply joke about bedtime.
Lana is what Sweetheart wants to be when she’s a big girl.
Um. I am a big girl. Sheesh.
In a perfect world, I’d just run around the house in stuff like this all the time.
I’m teasing Sir on Skype right now.
This was what I wore, with fishnets, during a certain threesome with him and SG that I need to work up the nerve to write about already.
(Please ignore the bruise on my inner thigh, I dropped a freaking kettlebell into my lap.)
The Party Sub, Part One
It was the first time I was wearing garters and I had bought entirely the wrong kind of stockings for them. They were thigh highs, but I was in such a rush that I didn’t ensure they would attach correctly to the bustier I was wearing. So, they took a while to force and my first few attempts were fruitless. By the time I reached the party, all but one had detached themselves.
I was incredibly nervous as Sir and I rounded the block towards the apartment. The past week, I had looked over the Facebook event and at the faces of people and how everyone seemed to know each other. I realized, aside from maybe three people that we knew, Sir and I would be walking into this cold.
Otherwise, everyone seemed to know each other, seemed so unreasonably attractive, seemed to totally have their shit together. Sir and I were on the younger side for the group and both had some anxieties about entering into what seemed to be a pretty established little posse.
The structure of the party was that prior to midnight we’d have time to mingle with people before the clothes came off and the fun began. But, I’m pretty awful at mingling, especially if there’s some kind of an agenda behind it. Not to say I had an agenda, but to say that it would be kind of hard to avoid that these people would be naked in a little over two hours.
“Don’t be so nervous, sweetheart,” Sir said as we approached the door. I fidgeted with the remaining strapped garter under my dress and it snapped off of the stocking.
We buzzed ourselves in and started up the stairs. In front of the door was a rack for shoes and another for our coats. After we had shed both, I gave Sir a kiss and he reached out to knock on the door.
Sir and I keep talking about what I’m going to wear for this whole potential threesome with SG.
I think I just got an idea.
She wasn’t permitted to talk that evening, he told his guests, but was allowed to answer their questions with a card that read “Yes” on one side and “No” on the other.
Forced to keep her legs open, she could feel the room fill up with the smell of her dampening cunt spread on display as they stared at her and asked about the blushiest things.
Hi can you please get more kinky friends soon.
For reasons.
Want want want want want want want want want.
“Do you want to be a very good girl for me, sweetheart?”
The text came in about an hour before Craftsmate was supposed to arrive. I had just showered and I had just slipped on my clothing. I picked up my phone and texted back: “Always.“
I like when he shifts to that tone with no warning and texts me something like that. It makes me feel owned and dirty in the best way.
"Then wear your plug for me when you leave the house. You’ll be walking around the neighborhood with me with it in you.”
I hesitated for a moment before texting back: “Yes, Sir.“
I slid my shorts down to around my knees and took my plug and lube out. Carefully, I lubed up the plug and my asshole, taking my time as it had been a little while since I last wore it. I slid the plug in carefully and pulled my panties and shorts back up. After making sure I had stopped blushing and taking care to straighten my shorts, I went to do my hair, barely able to ignore the fullness in my ass.
When he arrived, he didn’t ask if the plug was in. As we walked to lunch, I stopped when we turned onto a basically empty street and guided his hand to my ass. He had to lean down a bit and applied some pressure to the plug, drawing a low moan out of me.
"What a good girl,” he grinned, waiting until we had reached another empty expanse of street to once more apply some firm pressure to the handle of the plug and make me squirm. “Do you feel all filled up for me?“
I blushed and nodded.
“Well, good,” he replied, brushing some of my hair off of my shoulder, “because you’re leaving it in for when I fuck you later.“ He smirked, relishing taunting me, “think you’ll feel just too filled up then? Is it gonna be too much? You’re so tiny, after all.”