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3. The Request.
Sophie’s Journal Entries
Monday, July 27, 2015
You asked me what I wanted, what I expected. Mark Baker, the only thing I’ve ever wanted is you, and I expect you to come as you are.
And I know you know that, and I think you’re afraid of giving yourself to me completely. I know you think you’re not good enough for me. You’ve always felt like that. You’ve said it out loud. It makes me sad because I don’t think you know just how awesome you are. Don’t worry, I made you a promise. One day, you’ll believe me when I tell you that you’re wonderful. And I can’t wait to love you so hard you have no choice but to believe it.
But, you asked me to do this. So I’m going to do it for you, so that you’ll believe me.
I know you’re afraid of hurting me. I know you think that when we have sex, I’ll be reminded of all the bad things that have happened to me. But I won’t. I know I won’t. For two reasons.
One, I’ve been working really hard to come to terms with the rapes. I can write about it now. I talk about it to Alex sometimes. (Well okay, nobody ever really “talks” to Alex, since she can read minds. But you know what I mean. I can actively participate in a brain-conversation with her.) And I’m talking to Lisa a little bit about it too. She’s been helping me, asking me lots of questions and helping me verbalize it. The only reason I haven’t talked about it to you, is because I knew it would upset you, and probably make you even more afraid of hurting me.
Two, whenever we’re together, I’m not afraid. I’ve been close to people and been afraid of what they are going to do to me before, and I don’t get that feeling with you. I don’t get that hot trickle of adrenaline down the back of my neck. I don’t get panicky and lightheaded. When we’re together, and you touch me, or you kiss me, I feel alive, and safe, and loved, and beautiful in a way that I’ve never felt before.
So please, trust me when I tell you the things that I want.
You said you want me to get better about talking about sex. I’m going to try, really. I do feel safe with you. And I think I go mute a lot less than I used to. I just… need to be a little more confident. Thank you for your never-ending patience. Thank you for letting me mouth things when I can’t say them. Thank you for… everything. Thank you for loving me.
You asked if there were things I didn’t want to do with you. Hard limits. Here they are.
1 – I don’t want you to hit me or cut me. I would like you to spank me a little, I think, but only with your hand and not too hard. At least not right away. I think that may change one day, but I don’t want you to hit me in the face. It’s not the pain itself that would bother me, it’s what it would do to my heart. It would feel like you’re mad at me, and I just can’t handle that thought.
And knives are just… scary.
2 – Along the same lines… I don’t really want to try any major impact play. I don’t mind when you pinch me, and I love it when you bite me. That’s actually one of my favorite things. I know you have a set of nipple clamps in your room that you keep hidden… I found them by accident, sorry… I want you to use them on me someday. I like a little bit of pain. But I don’t want to be beaten, or hit with a cane or a crop.
3 – I like it when you tease me, and I like it when you call me names like “whore” and “slut,” but I don’t want you to degrade me or insult me, or say really mean things about me. Same as the first one, I don’t think my heart could handle it. I’m too in love with you.
I know why you really asked that question, though. I know what you’re looking for. You want me to tell you yes or no about taking my ass.
God, this is hard to write about. But I’m going to do it anyway. Because I promised you. And because I love you and you deserve it.
Mr. Dunley, that foster parent? He sodomized me. Twice. It was horrible. It was painful, and scary, and it makes me sick to think about it. I don’t want you to fuck my asshole right away, Mark, but it’s not off limits. You know why?
I want it back.
How dumb is that to say? I want my own asshole back. I feel like he took something from me, something I have a right to, and he made me afraid of it. I want to take the right to that pleasure back from his ghost. I want to not feel guilty about it. I want to enjoy you fucking me there, because I deserve to be fucked the way I want to be fucked.
Just, maybe not on our wedding night. Warm me up to it. Be gentle with me there. Give me some time. But it’s not off limits. Just… go slow, I guess.
I know you’re wondering about blowjobs, too, because of Rodney. The worst part about Rodney was… I liked it. I felt guilty about liking it, because I knew I was being manipulated, and I hate him for using me and taking advantage of me… I still liked it. The guilt for liking it when I knew I shouldn’t have was the worst part.
I really want to suck your cock, Mark.
I can see your bulge ankara eryaman escort through your jeans sometimes. The idea of you putting me on my knees and making me take you, gag on you, swallow you down, it makes me really wet and my mouth waters. I love it. I dream about it. It makes me feel dirty and sinful but I don’t care, because I want it.
Sometimes when you kiss me and you let me suck on your tongue, I pretend it’s your dick.
So please, don’t hold back. I know you’re scared of hurting me or freaking me out, but you won’t, because I trust you. You’re just the right kind of freak for me.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
I caught you looking at me today. You like to look at me when you think I’m not paying attention, but I can always feel your eyes on me. My skin gets all hot and I get wet. I love the feeling so I don’t look up at you, because I don’t want you to look away.
I had a dream about you last night.
I dreamed that you snuck into my room and crawled under the covers, and held me tight against you. You kissed my neck and my shoulders, and your hands trailed down my side and my legs, and inched their way under my nightgown. I got nervous and excited, because I don’t wear panties to bed, and I kept waiting for the moment when you realized it.
You scolded me for being a bad girl and being a tease while you slipped your fingers inside me, teasing me, not letting me come. I was so close, Mark. I could feel your fingers inside me, thrusting and twisting, exploring my wetness and my folds, and just as I was about to come… I woke up.
Best dream ever. Or worst, depending on how you look at it.
Of course, it was impossible to fall asleep after that, so I ended up taking care of myself. I so badly wanted to go into your room and climb into your bed. What would you do if I did? Would you scold me and kick me out? Or would you think it was just a dream, and let loose and do whatever you wanted to me?
What would it be like, if you actually did whatever you wanted to me?
Thursday, July 30, 2015
I keep thinking about the night you pulled me into your lap. Do you remember? It was the first time you made me come.
We were on your balcony, smoking. You were having a really bad day, saying you felt like you were worthless, good for nothing, and that you were using me as a crutch to feel good. It upset me to hear you degrade yourself like that, because I know just how kind and caring and generous and sweet you are.
(And I know if I ever let you read this, you’re going to say, “no, Soph, I’m an asshole.” Well, you’re wrong, Mister. You’re not.)
Anyway I started crying and you pulled me into your lap to hold and cuddle me, only my leg slipped and I tried to get it back up, and I ended up straddling your lap. And you had the most beautiful look on your face. Wonder and shock and awe, and your eyes got really dark.
You kissed me stupid until I couldn’t think, and then, you wicked man, you snuck your hand under my dress and started brushing my clit with the very edge of your finger, right over my panties.
Nobody has ever touched me there. Well, only me.
I couldn’t stop myself from rocking and grinding into you. I made the stupidest noises while you played with my clit, and then you bit my neck and I came all over your lap, and my panties, and my dress. I was so embarrassed, but you kept kissing my face and telling me how beautiful I was. I had to borrow a blanket to wrap up in just to get back to my room, because you could see my come on my dress.
You bought me a ring the very next day.
That was almost six months ago, I think.
Over two years of pining after you, and you made me come without taking off a single stitch of clothing, in less than two minutes. I’m worried that when you take me, I’m going to fall apart as soon as you’re inside me.
You know what I loved best about that memory? Besides the mind-melting orgasm and the look on your face when you watched me come…
It was the way you threw caution to the wind. You grabbed me, and took what you wanted. You lost control.
You asked me what I want, Mark… I want you to lose control with me. And I promise you, I trust you enough to let you do so.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Okay, you asked me to tell you what I wanted on our wedding night. So here it is.
I want you to take me. I want you to own me. I want you to lose yourself in me.
I want you to do what you want. I don’t want to make the decisions. I want you to play with me the way you want to play. I want no control over the situation, over my body, over what you make me do.
I want you to use me up until there’s nothing left, and then use me some more.
I keep thinking about last weekend, when you took me out to the woods and hauled me into the back of your truck. It made me so happy, and I wanted you inside me so bad. That night, I knew I didn’t want you to make love to me… I wanted you to fuck me. Maybe one day I’ll want sweet… But I know you love escort elvankent me. I want you to prove to me that you need me. That you own me.
Prove it, Mark. Prove I’m yours and nobody else’s. Ruin me so there’s nothing left of me, so I can’t ever think about being with anyone else.
(Not that I do. You’ve been my one and only fantasy since Freshman year, and you know it).
Specifically? I want to taste your cum. I want to feel you stretch me and tear me open. I want you to be rough with me, and use me like your favorite toy. I want you to force me to take more than I think I can handle, until I can’t even think at all.
I stared down at the page in front of me, barely able to think straight. I was pretty sure that by this point, all of the blood in my body was in my cock.
Over the past week, I went through a rollercoaster of emotions reading Sophie’s journal. It started her Sophomore/Junior year when she’d struggled with the fact that I “clearly” didn’t want her, and left to finish my Senior year at another school. Then there were the entries about how I moved back to the area and moved into the house with the rest of the gang after graduating, and her trying to convince herself that my blatant flirting was just casual friendship.
I got to read her side of our first few months of dating, pouring her excitement and her nerves and her desires out onto the page where she knew nobody would ever read them. I knew she kept her journal locked in her desk drawer for that exact purpose; so that she could be brutally honest without fear of being found out.
Reading it all, I fell in love with her all over again. I felt like I was holding her heart in my hands.
Her requests and her limits were very clear, and part of me was relieved. The things she wrote matched up with what I’d experienced with her; she always got insanely turned on when I was less than delicate with her, and it seemed like the rougher I got the more she whimpered and cried.
And, being the asshole I was, I loved it when she cried. Not when she was upset, but my God when she got so horny that her eyes welled up in frustration and she cried for me, those were some of my favorite moments between us.
She’d given me the journal on Friday evening before our date to Franklin, and she’d continued to add entries over the time I spent catching up. Now it was Tuesday night. I’d just finished the last entry of her journal.
I was sitting in one of the armchairs in her room, and Sophie was sitting across from me at the foot of her bed, head ducked, eyes lowered, hands clasped in her lap. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, like she was shielding herself from the judgement she feared.
She looked up at me. Her glasses slid down her nose slightly, and she pushed them back up, but looked over the rim to meet my gaze.
I messed with her sometimes. Fucking with her mind was half the fun, because she was such a good girl, and so easy to mess with, and so cute when I got her all flustered.
But I never really pushed her. I never really let go with her. Despite the fact that she’d been clear with me, I wasn’t really sure if she could handle the full extend of how I liked to fuck. And I was okay with that, because she was Sophie, and I loved her, and I could be happy with whatever she could take.
But I’d also love to edge her until she drooled, and then spit in her mouth and come on her face. And even though Sophie wasn’t really a virgin, she was new to this, and new to consentual sex. My gut was telling me to hold back, even though she claimed she didn’t want me to.
I set her journal down on the desk, and hooked a finger in the air. “Come here. No, baby,” I shook my head when she started to stand up. “Get on your knees and crawl over here like a good girl.”
She froze for a moment, and her eyes widened. She hesitated for just a moment before crouching and putting her hands on the floor, biting her lip as she worked her way over to me. She stopped about a foot from me.
“Come here, Sophie,” I said again.
She shuffled a little closer, so she was right in front of me.
“We’ve talked about that lip, baby,” I murmured as I reached out to slide a thumb over her mouth. Her eyes fluttered and her lip popped out of her mouth. There was a little imprint left in it from her teeth. I pulled her face closer and kissed her lips softly, and she let out a soft whine. She knew what was coming, we had a rule.
I licked and kissed her lips, and she sat still, unmoving, trying so hard not to move or kiss me back, until she finally broke. She couldn’t handle it when I flicked the tip of my tongue against the seam of her lips. She gasped and I caught her bottom lip between my teeth, and bit hard.
She let out the sweetest little yelp, and I smothered it by crushing my mouth against hers, tasting her lips and her tongue. Her mouth was so wet, her tongue and her cheeks so silken.
“I can’t wait to use you here,” I murmured etimesgut escort bayan against her mouth. I fingered the edge of her mouth, pulling away from her lips. Her eyes were nearly crossed as she watched me brush my index finger over and back across her plump bottom lip. Her mouth opened slightly as I touched her.
“Open up for me, sweetheart,” I whispered. “There you go, baby. A little more. That’s it.” She opened her mouth slowly, a little at a time, and her shoulders rose and fell a little faster. She was getting excited. I could see her mouth watering at the thought of what might happen next.
My cock twitched, needing to bury itself in her wetness.
“Let me see your tongue, baby.”
She squirmed slightly, but her tongue slowly emerged.
“Oh… don’t you look so pretty like this for me,” I whispered. I brushed a finger over her tongue and she sighed, her eyes fluttering as they closed, and she pulled my finger into her mouth.
Fucking hell. I watched her cheeks hollow and her lips close around my finger, and felt her tongue massage the pad of my fingertip. She sucked once, twice, steady and hard, and then opened her mouth and leaned forward, like she was trying to bob on my cock. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life; Sophie taking my finger and pretending it was my dick.
“Oh fucking hell, baby,” I snapped, and yanked my finger out of her mouth, and stood up. Her eyes shot wide in surprise and I saw a flash of fear and embarrassment cross her face.
“Stand up, come here,” I muttered, pulling her up to her feet rougher than I needed to. I pulled her against me so her hips crashed into mine, and took her mouth again.
“Were you thinking about sucking my cock, sweetheart?”
She whimpered and nodded against me.
“Dirty girl. You know we’re trying to wait.”
She shook her head.
“No? No you don’t want to wait?”
She shook her head again.
“Too fucking bad.” I’d gotten us this far, there were only three weeks until the wedding, and I wasn’t going to quit now.
I grabbed one of her legs under the knee and pulled it up high, causing her dress to hike up. She gasped, and I reached down and caught the other one, pulling her up against me and walking us towards the bed. I dumped her on her back, and she scrambled back farther onto the bed.
“Is this what you want?” I asked, climbing onto the bed after her and catching her ankle, pulling her closer to me, and putting her on her knees on either side of my lap. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her down from her kneeling, so she was all the way sitting on my lap. “Is it, baby? Is this how you want it?”
She whimpered as her hips gyrated against my cock. Her mouth was open in a perfect little “O.”
I groaned. I could feel the heat from her pussy through my jeans. Fucking hell this was a bad idea.
I was going to do it anyway.
I grabbed her hair, clenching my fist tightly and pulling back so her neck was exposed to me. I tilted her head and growled in her ear. “You better shut the fuck up, Soph. If you keep making little sounds like that, someone is going to hear you, and I’ll be a dead man. Can you do that, baby? Can you shut your little mouth and be good and quiet for me?”
I kissed and licked her neck, and she shuddered, but nodded as best she could with little control over her head.
Now let’s see how long it takes before she starts mewling like a little kitten. I couldn’t resist a chuckle at the idea.
“You said you want me to ruin you. Are you sure about that? Do you know what you’re in for?” I kissed her hard, diving into her mouth and sucking on her tongue. “Do you, baby?”
She struggled, trying to answer me, but every time she tried to answer me, I kissed her, bit her, caught her tongue with my teeth. She gave up the struggle, and let me have her mouth, and the feeling of her surrendering under me brought me to a whole new level of insanity.
I pushed her onto her back and she squeaked.
“Soph.” I growled, and held her by the chin. “Be. Quiet.”
She was panting. She bit her lip.
“That fucking mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. How about you take this and shut up, okay baby girl?” I shoved my thumb in her mouth.
She had that faint hint of pink across her cheeks, and her eyes were wide as saucers, and her glasses were skewed slightly. I let her suck my thumb as I pressed my hips into hers, burying my face in her neck.
I was grinding on her, and she was grinding right back, little wet sounds coming from her mouth. She wasn’t any quieter with my thumb in her mouth, but damn if it wasn’t hot. I was so fucking close I was going to come in my jeans if I wasn’t careful.
“Is this how you want me to fuck you baby?” I whispered hoarsely in her ear. She nodded. I pulled her hair again and she let out a sad, pitiful whine.
I could tell she was really trying to be quiet, but she was failing miserably.
“Come here, flip over,” I muttered. I pulled my thumb out of her mouth and rolled her over, scooting back and pulling her to the edge of the bed. I grabbed a pillow, and pulled her head up by her hair and shoved her face back down in it. I leaned back forward and said in her ear, “Now can you be quiet, and cry for me into this pillow, okay?”
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