Commitment

I'm just going to jump right in. 

While I have a decent amount of sexual experience, (vanilla sex, slightly kinky sex, very kinky sex, multiple partner sex, self sex, sex with toys, paid sex, hate sex, revenge sex, pity sex, sex while in love, sex with someone I'd just met, anonymous sex, you get the picture) I don't have much in the way of relationship experience. 

I dated in high-school, but it was "flavor of the week" style, I also slept around in high-school and while I habitually returned to a few partners it never "real love" or even really dating, most girls got taken to the movies, I got taken to a nice dark place to fuck.

~but~

I did "go steady" with one guy my 3rd year of HS mostly because I was living with him... no really, my mom couldn't hold a place and his dad was on drugs (I think, I never actually saw him do any) so they let me live with him. but I cheated on him every chance I got.

~then~

After my best friend died I was kinda lost, 17 and self destructive ( please see this post for more info on that) and I entered into my first real relationship (and even then it was only "real" by the slimmest definition). I loved him, I married him by all the laws of the gods I believe in, I tried to have his baby. and he beat me "like the red haired stepchild of a rented mule" not just in bed but all the time, and not just my body but my mind as well. I was faithful to him, though he was not faithful to me, and when he ended I walked away with a metric fuck ton of scars inside and out.

~2 months later~

after that was a disgusting spew of one night stands, rave sex, and being paid an obscene amount of money to "hang out" with men while trying to pretend I was happy and in Love with a man that was way to good for me and deserved WAY better than what I was giving him.

~about 1.5 months after that~

Then I met my 2nd husband, the first one in the eyes of the state. He fit me so well, like we had been made for each other, or at least it felt like that. He was easy at first, comfortable, like a soft cotton t-shirt and a blanket on a rainy day. We had rules, we had to ask before we fucked other people, we had to make sure that no matter who else we played with we gave more to each other than to our human toys. We were together for a long time. We had a kid together, a little boy. We each fucked up, I would get bored and wanna play with someone new, but then I would get mad when he wanted to do the same. (AND YES THIS IS MY SIDE AND IT MAKES HIM LOOK LIKE A DICK, WHEN HE WRITES A BLOG YOU CAN READ HIS SIDE OF IT!!) I felt like he stopped wanting me. He started cheating, fucking girls he knew I wasn't ok with and without asking. He started to fall in love with someone else. We ended badly. 

I have tried to be in love over and over. I dont know if I'm a romantic or if I was just force fed to much Disney as a kid, but I really do want that happily ever after. 

I think I'm in love, and I say think because with my past how do I know its real?

He makes me smile, even when I don't want to.

He respects me, remembers my limits, and never tries to push me to far out of my safe box.

He tells me that I'm amazing almost every day.

He wants to be with just me, and for the first time in my life I have no desire to play with anyone else.

We share real things, life dreams and goals, hobbies and interests, sexual desires.

He asked me to spend my life with him, He wants to marry me.... I dont know what to do with it.

I said yes, but we have no set wedding date. 

 

Growl

~I started writing Growl a little over a year ago. It was a tribute to an amazing man who often gives without taking. He is a close friend who has held my hand (and often one of my tits) through each of my divorces. And he was one of the first men I was able to kiss after I was raped. I have finished Growl, and as amazing as this little bit of smut is, it in no way adequately describes him. this bit of smut can not describe his smile, or the way he can make me laugh with just a look. Someday someone will make him fall in love, and i hope she (whoever she is) is smart enough to know that she found something more perfect than the hope diamond, and worth more than all the gold and oil on earth. I love him.~~

My Shining one
Your eyes flash, cat like, as the light from the tv bounces off them.
You tower over the bed, stealing the breath from me with just a look.
I can only blink mindless and shivering as your shirt comes off, breaking your gaze for a moment before those eyes are burning back into mine, making me powerless to look away.
Golden and tawny, your easy smile turning into a feral grin as you look at me, making me cower on the bed, I'm left helpless all my power as a Domme gone before the force that is you, bending me to your will.
You pounce, springing onto the bed, pinning me under you. I scream, muffled in your shirt. My hips pinned under yours, your naked between gasps of air. Your skin is so hot it almost burns, and my poor purple panties are no match for this fire. you rip them aside, tearing the silk from my hips with one savage lunge of your hand. Now I'm burning, my skin flushed and trembling.
Your body holds mine as your kiss your way down my skin until you find the source of this fire, then its not kisses anymore. You lap at me like a lion with its prey, all teeth and claws and snarls, until my panting matches my heart beat.
A lion, yes, my king of the jungle. Yet I cant seem to tell am I your lioness or only prey. The feel of your teeth snap me back to the here and now digging into my neck, a sharp point of pain to offset the firm softness as you glide in, deep so deep, pain and more all mixed into one. I whisper your name and you snarl into my neck, telling me to ask for it, telling me to beg. I ask, I plead, I cry, and oh goddess do I beg. A waterfall of needness, pouring out of me until you kiss me, whispering "good girl" in my ear. I moan your name. Then your hands on my hips, fingers digging in, and thoughts are gone, lost in the tide of moans, the rush of snarls. Your name dancing over my lips again and again like a mantra, like honey on my tongue offered to a goddess. You growl at me, your rhythm speeding up. You strike, teeth sinking in around my nipple. Your eyes never leaving mine, flashing in the light. You roar as our fires combine and I see stars. I see you.
My Lion, My King, My beast

Novel

Chapter one
Glitter, why am I covered in glitter? It’s even in my eyelashes I think. By the scratchy feeling on my back it’s all over my bed. And with that thought I realize, dam it, I woke up again, that means I have to go through another day. The cracked plaster on my ceiling seems to be taunting me, smiling at my misery. Rolling out of bed just seems to be too much work anymore. I shake my head and try to tell myself it’s worth it nothing can be all that bad. I shuffle out of my bed trying not to trip as I step over the ruin of my life. Men’s clothing in a pile by the closet, a bra way too small to be mine hanging on my mirror. I was right my bed is COVERED in glitter like an inch deep, strange. My clock says its nine thirty in the morning. Crap my roommates are awake, I try to get up before they do so I don’t have to talk to them or even see them. Why did I wake up so late? I slip into the bathroom to get shit started and the strange me in the mirror startles me. It looks like someone drenched me in glitter, there is so much on my face I can’t even see my eyelashes. I jump in the shower to find that my roommates have used up all the hot water, again. This is another reason I try to wake up before they get moving. I do the minimal amount of washing to make sure I don’t smell like the night before thought I’m still not sure what the night before was. Though going by sent I rolled in glitter and cotton candy body spray, maybe I was mobbed by strippers. As I dry off in my room I try to pick an outfit out of the clothing I have left. Somehow most of it seems to ‘get lost’ in the washer. Though I’m sure both of the female roommates of mine are loving my shit. A black built in bra sports top, a pair of dark fade jeans, black and white running shoes, and an I-pod end up as my choices. The dark colors make me look slimmer and the top places my thirty eight D breasts up on prominent display. Walking back to the bathroom means I “get” to see one of my roommates.
“Hey Jazmine, I used the last of your butter and your milk this morning, I hope you don’t mind”
The smirk on her face says she really could care less if I mind or not. Bitch. Becky is about my height and body build though her ass is bigger and my breasts are bigger. Her hair is a nice rich brown and her eyes are the same. She would be really pretty if she didn't think she was already sooo pretty. I make a vague movement with my head something I hope will look like “ya whatever” and keep going. Looking in the mirror I add the little bit of makeup I wear, black eyeliner, black mascara, and a plumping lip gloss. I run some hair goo through my dark red hair and pull it up with a hair tie leaving a tail as thick as my wrist that still tickles my shoulders. I walk out of the bathroom into my house trying to get to the kitchen without having to see any more of my roommates. I get there just in time to see another of my roommates, male this time, finish my OJ; it’s not worth the fight. I grab an energy bar and a Full Throttle from the stash in my room. I’d drink coffee if my pot wasn't always full of my roommate’s old tea or mold. In fact most of this house is like that, I’d cook if the pans weren't always dirty, and I'd have friends over if we ever had clean plates.
I grab my sunglasses sweet little black on black wrap around ones, lock my room and leave. As I step into the glaring sun of my so called “lovely” city I slide on my glasses and start to walk west towards downtown and hopefully shade. Four blocks an about three songs later and I'm in the shadow of the first casino, the giant clown stares, smiling maniacally, down on us poor humans. I take a deep breath glad to be out of the sun. Turning south I head down the “strip” as if we were some big town. I try not to make eye contact with the many bums that litter the streets; if you don't make eye contact they won't try to beg anything from you. I swing into a small door between a liquor shop and a pawn store (or is that a liquor store and a pawn shop). It leads to stairs that go up to some of the shittiest apartments I've ever seen, but this is where the man lives. I knock on his door.
“Who the hell is it?” comes out through the door, with how gruff his voice is I know he’s been up all night.
“Terence, its Jazmine, let me in” the door creaks open to show one bloodshot eye in an otherwise handsome face.
Seeing that it really is me the door opens the rest of the way and a hand motions me in. The apartment I enter is clean-ish if really run down, the only mess is the mass of gum wrappers and half empty water bottles all over the floor. And glitter all over the table.
“Dam ‘love’ I hope you didn’t party away your stock” I say with a grin. He glares at me and turns around to survey the mess in his living room. He has this voice like he’s trying to sound English, like England style. He always sounds almost ridiculous.

This is only the first bit, I'll add more if you all like it...

memory2

this one is harder to write, it still makes me cry, and it is not as filled out with little descriptors as most of my stuff is so please forgive me.~~

My best friend is dead.
I found out this morning. I booted the old DSL up, looking out the window at the summer sun. I log onto myspace to see a message from a girl i only barely feel is a friend. she tells me that my best friend, and the first woman i have ever been in love with is dead.
Just like that my day shatters.

I spend two weeks curled into a ball in my bed wishing i was dead with her.

No one grants my wish.
not yet

music playing loud in my ears in the back of the car. eyes rolled up in teenage disgust at being in the car with my dad and some chick he wants to fuck. I am an empty shell, rattling around inside myself. every forth thought is wishing i was dead.

the sun is just starting to go down as we pull into this stupid little backwater town.
A carnival, the last one i went to was with her. I dont want to be here. I'm walking with Dianna 60in cash in my pocket.
I hate it, I miss her, I wish i was dead
shes drunk
dear goddess she is drunk

I see him
tall
black hair
blue eyes
he is beautiful
he is poison
our eyes meet, and i see it. the over whelming urge to hurt something
I want to be hurt

his forehead says Danger, predator in big red letters
mine says death wish

we talk
we flirt
I wish i was dead
he sees it in my eyes, and he smiles
but the smile is not a let me help you feel better smile, it is a let me help you die smile
I give him my number

he's going to hurt me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

we have a tall bed, a "captains bed" the ones with the dressers under it.
I'm sitting on the edge of it naked waiting for him.
he comes in, kisses me, kisses my lips my face my neck my breasts. he lays me down.
hes not hard, not really, but he pushes the tip into me
I know whats coming and put my hands behind my head close my eyes and wait.
~slap~ the back of his hand slaps into my chest
~slap~ and the other side
over and over he hits the outside of my tits, and with every slap his cock twitches, getting harder and harder. by the time hes hard my tits are a solid mass of black and purple but i'm so wet i can feel it dripping down my legs. he grabs my tits and uses them as grips. pulling me onto him. fucking me. his hands reach up and his fingers wrap around my neck. I cant breath, i start to see spots, i tap his shoulder, not for air, I dont have a safe word, but i tap asking without a voice if i can cum
he says yes
i cum, my mind shattering, everything going dark
I come too and hes still fucking me, he didnt care i passed out, he close, and i can feel that it will be his second so i know how long i've been out, almost 20 min, he slaps me, hard, it splits my lip, i lick the blood up and whisper thank you my love
he cums, and he bites me. sinking his teeth into the top of my tit until they almost touch, blood on his lips when he looks up. he kisses me pushing my blood into my mouth.

we sleep, i'm curled up around his back, dependent on him, because without his pain, i want to die again, as soon as he leaves i can think, and when i think i remember, I remember her, and i wish i was dead

A memory 1

I'm curled on the bed reading a book. music playing in the back ground.
i hear a creak a look up to the door, you're standing there shirtless, red hair wet and water drops clinging to your collarbone.
i raise my eyebrow looking at you leaning in the door frame. your smile makes me lick my lips, seeing my eyes widen you smile.
You lunge, throwing yourself into the air. you come down on the bed, your hands next to my shoulders and your feet next to my hips. I scream, a small girlish noise.
i wrap my arms around you and kiss you.
then we fight, wrestling back and forth along the bed. i can almost pin you, almost hold you down, but you are just a little bit faster, just a little bit stronger.
you pull my shirt off. I scratch you leaving three long red angry lines on your chest. you snarl and Rip my bra off, tearing the center strap. I bite you, my teeth leaving a clean sharp ring around your nipple. you yelp and rip my panties off in one yank, it hurts, bruises showing almost instantly. I kick at you, my toe snagged in the edge of your pj pants pulling them down. now we are naked, still wrestling around, I can feel how hard you are. I roll pulling onto my knees to get away from you. You grab the back of my neck making me meek. you shove into me. fucking me with your hand on my neck, long hard strokes. all the way to the back of me and out again. fucking me until i scream your name, shaking around you. your hand from my neck to twist into my hair. you jerk me up and set your teeth into my shoulder biting me as you cum. wrapped in your arms we fall.
curled onto the bed. resting, holding you.
you slide out of me, and i turn in your arms, nibbling on you. kissing your chest.

goodnight my red haired Adam.
my last dream of you

The size of the boat

So I hear men say all the time "I wish I had a bigger dick" no you dont, most of you just wish you had a better idea of what to do with the one you have.

so let me share with you a rather personal little back story.

I was young, I cant tell you how young but I think you will get an idea.

I spent more time with boys as a kid than girls, and most of it was that i had no interest in dolls or things like that, I was that hissing wild cat child that you almost couldn't tell was a girl running around with a small pack of mud covered boys.

As I got older, and developed "identifying body features" I got a reputation for being easy. I also got the reputation for being a bitch. Now how you can get called easy when you turn down more guys than you fuck I dont know.

I had more female friends now, not a lot, but some. but my best friends were always male. and I had a habit of sleeping with my closest guy friends. then we come to this. I had a guy friend, he was cute, tall, smart, strong, got good grades, and had every girl in school drooling, but couldn't seem to keep a girlfriend. He broke down and told me 4 girls in a row had dumped him, because they said he was just too big. he had even hurt one girl, I don't think badly but it almost shattered him. He thought he was a freak, and hated himself. he had even had an older woman tell him it was to big and she didn't want anything to do with it.

I wanted to make him feel better, i wanted to give him back some piece of himself that was gone. so we got drunk one night after school and i started to come on to him, hard, teasing him, sitting in his lap, wiggling my hips until i could feel what felt like a soda can in his pants. At my look of shock he almost started to cry. He told me about everything all the girls, all the rejection, everything.
what else could I do. I kissed him, told him I wasn't scared, took his hand and headed for an empty bedroom.

he was as big around as my wrist and 9 in long. I was terrified but i didn't let him see that. I took it slow, showed him everything i had learned about how to make a girl wet and ready, every trick i had i showed him. Then I made myself take all of it, and it hurt, I got rips, and I have a nifty scar from it, but to see his eyes light up was worth it. The moment he saw the blood he wanted to stop, but i didn't let him, i told him just keep going. I would not be another girl to add pain to his life. and oh goddess was it worth it, to see his face in that moment when I started to enjoy it, when that huge full feeling started to feel good was one of the best moments of his life.

I love the big boys, and you know what for all your big talk, most of you know how he felt, and most of you have a soft spot for the first girl who really wanted and enjoyed you

I kinda suck

This is not just a cry for "pet me and tell me i'm ok" this is a warning too... I fail at talking to people

I have realized that when I am "up front" with people about how much I suck they think I'm kidding, or worse they think they can "fix" me. lets get this straight, I SUCK, I suck ass at starting a conversation, I suck at showing when I care, and most of all I suck at dealing with people that I care about. the only time I'm good with people is if I'm trying to "sell" them something. I work a good con, I can talk dam near anyone into dam near anything. I work really hard not to con the people I love, but then I dont know how to act.
I'm such a bold face, and such a loud personality that people dont notice how quiet I am when I'm not on "stage". It leads to a habit of ending up with people who take advantage of me. I am so desperate for someone to really see me that i fall in love with men who are just really good at playing the same game I play.

If I flirt with you, I may text you everyday, but normally it will be after you text me first.
If I want to fuck you, and I think you want to fuck me, I might text you first 3 or so times a week, and it will almost always look like this "sup sexy" or "hey you, whats up"
If I date you, I will text you first like once a week, but I will think about you all the time, and I will always have little gifts for you, or will always want you to come over.

I always feel like I'm bothering people when I text or message them, so i almost never do. I went a long time with no phone so sometimes I forget that it works 2 ways. I forget that I can reach out with it. and I forget that people might want to hear from me as bad as I want to hear from them. (see i suck)

I will poke you on facebook, I'll like your pictures, but I have the hardest time opening chat and messaging you.

I'll tell you I hate to cuddle.I dont hate to cuddle, I just know how to do it. I've honest to Goddess never cuddled if it wasn't leading to sex or sleep.

If I text you at midnight its cuz I'm depressed and I want someone to come hold my hand. and if I have texted you at midnight and asked you to come over, no matter how much "joke" I put into it, it was/is my last grasp at something normal, something not drunk, not depressed, and not slowly going fucking crazy. and I can never explain to you how hard it was to pick up and text those few simple words.

"hey wanna come hangout? I can't sleep" really means "help me remember what it feels like to be human, I need to feel skin before I lose my mind"
and if i text you and really say that i need you "i could really use some company, its been a hard day" thats a huge SOS message, and the prof that you are on the inner circle of my friends, and that you are someone that I trust, truly trust.