Featured

First Secrets

First Secrets

Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.

— Oscar Wilde.

BLOG 1 ~ 11-2019  “Early Times – About the First Secrets…”

I am going to get naked here.  Emotionally!  It’s starting to get light – and I have not slept… just can’t sleep.  There are two kinds of things I need to talk about – my deepest secrets and my fantasy dream world.

Thinking about how I seem to have quite a lot of men in my life – men who really like me, men who want to ‘know me’ – ha-ha! Yes, in various ways.  Trying to sort out what makes it happen so often and so easily.  It makes me think deeply about the kind of person I am, the things I do in my present life now, and why I did some of those things I did in my past.

I promise to be entirely honest.  No sense in being anything else – is there?!

For starters, I will probe my earliest secrets, although really, I do not want to return to those places from many years back.  It’s so long ago and I think ‘what’s the point’… yet my head is full of things – actually mostly things that were done TO me. Yet I let it be, I let it all happen.  And – here’s the rub: I feel like I kind of MADE it happen.  So, I’m trying to figure that stuff out.  Actually, I do see it as a kind of power and a kind of vulnerability at one and the same time.  Or maybe I do not understand what it is at all.  Ok, actually, I don’t. 

Well, but is there anyone who doesn’t have a problem at times with sex? Not that I know of!  So, going back to early memories, since they keep popping into my mind, I may as well accept the situation and look it in the eye, so to speak.

Since I was about three years old, I knew I liked men. A lot. I just noticed them in a way that was not the same as how I noticed females. There was an entirely different sensation that I felt about men and boys; it was just part of how I always was.  And I have had some feelings at times, over the years, with attractions to women, but very rarely.  I can indeed appreciate the beauty of females, and I admit I like it if a woman seems attracted to me, but I do not really want anything beyond that.  A few times though, some things did indeed go beyond – more than merely a look or a touch…  But so very many more things took place with boys and men.  I still remember the sensations, the good parts and the – other parts.

I guess I just like being desired, and anyone that shows that to me, well, I feel something inside me stirring somehow…  But there’s another aspect about me that I’m very aware of and no two ways about it. I feel it’s something important for me to comprehend; yet I do NOT.   

And – I am sorry, because I know some people reading this will immediately be offended or feel defensive… but I have to say this:  there are kids who really do have something ‘special’ in them or ‘about’ them somehow and it IS a quality that attracts people in a sexual way.

Please understand me:  I am surely not saying that they have this trait on purpose – clearly, it’s not their fault at all.  It is just that way.   So I think I have this characteristic about me, because of all the many things that have occurred over the span of my life. 

And as for those of us who have that “quality” or “curse” or “gift” — well, when we grow up, if we are honest and really think about it, we know it; and we do acknowledge it. We have to. Yet that does not mean we ever understand it.  But when we’re little – well – we do not know what it is or why we are ‘like that’.  We simply ‘have it’ and we live with it all our lives.  To me, it is still always a mystery in many ways, and that is the truth.  As far as I can remember, I have always had a sort of vague ‘unconscious’ sense, and later a more ‘aware and conscious’ sense, of my own sexuality.  But I surely do not ‘cultivate’ it!  I just accept it about myself now.  You see, it never, ever seemed devious, just purely inherent and totally natural. 

Yes; at three years old, I actually remember having what I now believe – and what I intuitively know – were budding sexual feelings for a fully grown man, someone who was a friend of my parents.  G. was dark-haired, dark olive skin and he had very handsome features.  Always very sweet to me, he never did anything like try to look at me or touch me in any inappropriate way. Nothing at all like that.  Always, he smiled and was kind, patted my head, greeted me cheerfully, as any nice grown-up treats a child.  Yet it was I – the CHILD – who seemed to want more – how or why I don’t understand – not in the least!

How do I know I was only three?  Because I was home in mid-day and I started Kindergarten at age 4, so I was younger than that.  It’s my best guess anyway. 

But one day, when G. was at our house, I recall looking at him and just beckoning him with my plump little hand to come with me.  He seemed amused and got up from the sofa where he was waiting for my mother to bring him some tea and cake, as she had just offered him some.  My mother was in the tiny kitchen and from where she was she did not see us.  

I easily got this man to get up and follow me to my room a few yards away and out of sight.  He was entirely clueless.  I was a little child after all!  He had never, ever given me any signals of any sort, so what was independently stirring in my little girl mind was none of his doing.  I am sure he thought I had some silly toy to show him, or some other childish thing, I suppose.  Anyway, when he came into my room I pointed to my mouth with my fat little finger, and lifted my face for a kiss!  I was entirely silent, spoke no words – just looked up at him, expectantly.  He was so surprised!  His eyes grew big in shock and his cheeks actually flushed, his face fell and he just stared at me.  Then he shook his head firmly ‘No!’ in utter disbelief.  He was clearly confused, embarrassed and truly at a loss as to how to react.  He turned away quickly and went back to the sofa.  

But I sulked in my room for an hour.  I was genuinely hurt, as I couldn’t understand why he did not kiss me.   I too, had NO ulterior motive or intent – I just knew that I liked him and I wanted his mouth to touch me.  It was just a desire and an impulse – and never for one tiny moment had I thought or planned or contemplated anything else. 

What was odd – and it still does strike me as odd – is that it was I, the little child, who felt the attraction and followed my impulse!  Yet I acted purely naturally and entirely honestly.  And I clearly had at least a vague sense of doing something naughty, because of this detail:

It was I, yes, as little as I was, who ‘lured’ this man into a ‘secret’ place where we would not be seen – that amazes me!  So – there really was some thought in my little head about it!  It was obviously unconscious, yet it seems intuitive at least!  I have always been so open to sensory things and also to sensuous things.  I just feel all of it so easily.  I guess it is all truly innate and essentially ‘how I am’ so it is therefore innocent.  But I realize, as I am reviewing this, that if I was really so totally blameless, why then wouldn’t I have done all of that right there in the living room? 

Exactly!

Anyway, when I was called by my mother to say goodbye to him, I did so, but he tried to avert his eyes and just mumbled ‘goodbye’.  He never spoke to me directly again!

Well– if you are reading this – are you incredulous?  Shocked? Disgusted? Upset?  Or are you perhaps intrigued?  Well, I myself surely do have many mixed feelings – but I am trying to be as fully honest as I possibly can about all I am saying here.  It’s a bit painful, no doubt, but I guess I am hoping for some kind of acceptance or advice or understanding at least.  I know I want to accept myself – this aspect of my own character – and I am looking for support, because I hope to understand it; but I don’t think I ever will.

I have to be real – I cannot be otherwise, and though I freely admit that I am often misguided, I am always fully and purely forthcoming in all that I have said and done.  I tell what I feel, but I do keep struggling with what I need to confront.

I want to do this for myself and for anyone else who finds it relevant.  If I don’t do it now, I never will.  But please – do not judge me for my individual ways of being and responding and behaving.  Remember that song?  ‘I’m just a gal who can’t say ‘no’?  Well, I am often very much that girl.

Memories hide yet we seek, and sometimes we do not seek but they find us!  Mine are now confronting me very brazenly, and they are persistent and insistent. Whether I like it or not, I cannot seem to get away from them – neither in my waking hours nor in my dreams. They keep popping up at all kinds of times. They used to be far from the front of my thoughts, but now they sit stubbornly inside my head and keep expanding with more specific details. So, at first there might be some inconsistencies, which I shall do my best to correct, because many details do not emerge immediately, or are not always fully in my mind as I am doing this.  Much of the content of these memories seems dream-like, in that some points are very vivid, and then I later suddenly remember more particular points.  I will do my best to add and amend the accounts as needed.  That’s the nature of memory, so bear with me, if you will!

It seems to me that it’s ‘time’ for me to face this stuff.  It’s been squished away for so long and it will not be ‘silenced’ any longer.  So – here I am.  Well, a close friend who knows a lot about such things says she is very certain that somehow, something did actually happen, that some man did things which triggered that behavior in me, that I never could have gotten that notion to want to kiss G. on the mouth on my own!  Not at that age of 3 years!  Hmmm. 

Ok, but I truly do not recall a single thing that anyone did.  She says I repressed it totally.

Our personal stories are the building blocks of our lives. They shape us. The new path I am on is a thrilling and also sometimes painful discovery, and yet it is sometimes very charmingly comical, despite the intensity.  Yes, I am on this journey, confronting and exploring aspects of my own personality which are perplexing, a bit frightening, yet so compelling, that they draw me ever forward, to what end I do not know.   But I cannot turn away.

And that’s what I want to share.  I feel a pressing need to express what I feel, in order to figure myself out.  I know that I need all the help I can get!  I am coping with the sweetness and the savagery of my new world.  I admit that this is the biggest risk I ever took.  And yes, it’s scary!  So I don’t want to do it alone – that’s why I want to write about it.  I have to tell anyone who is willing to know.  I guess I need some virtual ‘hand-holding’…

Because of a book I wrote, about my current stage of life, I was contacted by a number of people, and I have made really special friends this way.  This is a big thing for me.  The book is ‘out there’ yet highly private – really intimate, and the men and women who have read it know much more about me than most of my family does!  Yeah, I talk to them and I feel close to them – which is quite odd, as I have not ever met most of them in person!

Well, that’s it for now.  I wrote a lot of stuff which I will have trouble explaining and maybe I said a lot I shouldn’t have.  Maybe someone can put their finger on what this is all about?

About My “Dulce Vida Loca”

Here is how my present life, my crazy romances started. This is from several years ago; those of you who got my book saw this already.  And – any of you – when you read this, and consider the earlier posts… well, perhaps you can see why I am suddenly in this place again, where things happen to me, things I never start, I never expect, and it just takes over my entire world!

It was exactly one year after PT’s death, and I felt I was doing pretty well. We’d been married many years, and we loved each other so much. It was time to live again.

May, 20 xxxx. Trying to stay upbeat and healthy, I was at the gym, where I naturally am friendly and smile and greet everyone I see who happens to make eye contact – men or women – Miss Congeniality, right!  Now when I work out, I use the weight machines and some of those have weights that are too heavy for me to lift so I usually ask some young guy to please take them off so I can put lower weights on.   And they always do that, no problem.  After I was done working out, I went to my car.  I was vaguely surprised that I did see one of the young guys from the gym, standing a few feet from my car, but I thought nothing of it, and gave him a slight wave.  As I approached, he came towards me, holding a single red rose.   He looked right into my eyes and said, “Can I give you this?”  I was a little taken aback but smiled and shrugged and said, “Oh – ok.” 

I certainly did not know why I should refuse that; it seemed like a sweet gesture. I did sort of think that it was odd that he knew which car was mine, as there are hundreds of cars in the lot with the gym and a pizza place and many stores, so it flashed through my mind that he must have watched me go to my car before, without me realizing that.  So he held out the rose.  I took it and said, “Well, thank you!” and then turned away to get into my car.  The next moment a strong arm grabbed my body and he pulled me toward him, which made me gasp in complete reflex of utter surprise and some sense of alarm!  My mouth being wide open, the next thing I felt was a large hot tongue way down my throat!  Lucky I had gasped and had enough air in me for a minute!  It was impossible to do a thing – I was tightly held and being kissed so deeply it was mind bending.  I suddenly felt as weak as a newborn kitten and I thought I would melt into the ground, my whole body was shaking, trembling from within.  I had no way to resist or move. 

I nearly swooned – I could not stand on my own at all.  His arm was still around me.  When he let me breathe, I stammered, “Wha-what- what just happened!”

He simply said, in a calm even voice, “I want to see you.  Can I see you?” 

The first words that came out of my mouth were – “How OLD are you??”   I KNEW he was many years younger than I.  He smiled slightly. “Hey, we’re not talkin’ about it.”

“But – I – I just don’t know … I mean, I don’t even know what to say …” I was shaking my head, still struggling in trying to believe what had just taken place.  I knew full well that if he had been ‘polite’ and asked me out, I would have looked at how young he was – and surely I would have refused.  But he had not asked… He looked very directly into my eyes and said again, “So – can I see you?”

I looked at him, at his arms, muscled and tattooed, his strong, broad shoulders, his chest, his young-ness, his male beauty.  His arm was still around me and I was not about to push it away.  My entire body was pulsing with a hot pleasure and a new desire I had not felt for years.  I knew I was not going to refuse this!   I looked back into his eyes and I felt a wave of pure lust.  My lips opened and said, “Yes.”

I gave him my address and cell number and he called the next day, asking to come over.  He came charging all the way up my long driveway in this huge construction truck that looked like a hook and ladder truck!  He strode up to me.  He started to fling his arms around me and I protested, “No, no, the neighbors will see you! Don’t do that!”

So he just held my arm as we went into the house.  Inside, I shut the back door and he instantly pulled me to him and kissed me as before and I kissed back with every fiber in my body.  Hands went everywhere — both his and mine!  He was ready to lay me down right on the darn tile floor and I said, “Stop – stop!”

He stopped.  “Why?”  He asked it so innocently, his tone was like that of a five year old; it made no sense to him at all. “Hey, if you say ‘stop’ – I stop.  You want me to stop?”

I looked at his face, his arms, that fine body – I knew I wanted anything he wanted to do.  He insisted I answer.  “Tell me – should I stop?”

I pushed him away a little and we moved into another room.  He immediately pulled me onto the love-seat with those strong muscled arms.  Feeling that touch of a man – seeing that animal lust in his eyes and hearing his voice close to my ears, his breath hot and fast – my whole body was melting with the desire that washed over me just looking at him …. He was insistent.  ”Say it – you want me to stop?  Say ‘stop’, Miguel’…” 

My eyes were already closing in helpless anticipation, my head was spinning, my heart was pounding… I softly answered, “No-o-o”…

“But please, let’s go up there,” I begged him to come upstairs to my bedroom where it was really private so I wouldn’t be so very nervous.  We went to go up the stairs, and I said, “You go on, I will come behind you.”

I tried to make him go first because I knew he’d touch me if I was in front of him. But he ignored my words, got right behind me and just put his hands on my hips and moved me up those stairs like a package.   In the bedroom he instantly pushed me onto the huge bed and started pulling my clothes off like crazy and I kept saying, “Wait – don’t!” — just cause I was so totally shaking and so kind of scared with the whole thing – I still felt idiotically shy even though I was going crazy with all the things he was doing.  He didn’t say a word, but instead, he put my hand on his hardness – still in his pants!  My clothes were going to get pulled off first – he yanked my shirt off and pulled my bra-straps off my shoulders and down to my waist in a moment.  My hands went up to cover my breasts and he took both of my hands in his and simply pushed them away and pressed them backwards, laying them both at my sides next to my shoulders, in a ‘hands up’ position.  I stayed that way, deliciously helpless, as he then grabbed my breasts and kissed them all over – sucking and biting my nipples like he was starving.  I just screamed with pleasure and he said, ‘Sh-sh-sh-sh!’ which drove me utterly wild.  He undid my bra and flung it on the floor and he pulled my pants off.  I was wearing those stretchy tight pants, but no underwear – (I almost never wear panties) – and he sunk his mouth right between my legs.  I thought I was going to faint – my head fell back and I just gasped and moaned – I knew I was done for. 

He still had his pants on after all this! He licked and nuzzled me and then he stood up and took his clothes off.  Out comes this big fat cock – way up!  I thought – omg – omg – omg!  He stood at the side of the big bed, and grabbed my ankles and pulled me toward him. Then he got onto the bed, on his knees and flung my legs over his shoulders and put the head of his cock where it wanted to be.   He pushed it in just a little.  

“Oh please! Go slow! Oh please, don’t do it fast, oh please –“

“Why not?” 

He sounded just like a little kid who wants to know ‘why’ he can’t have something!  And then he plunged that cock into me – and I really did scream! Yes, yes, yes, with pleasure — but it did actually HURT!  It had been so, so long since anything had been in there! (Just FYI I have never used a vibrator or ANY sex toys.  Never ever needed or wanted to – and anyway my husband had thought sex toys were ’bullshit stuff’ and he did not like any such thing.)

So this was a true “like a virgin” moment! It was so delicious having this gorgeous young body fucking me – I felt like I had gone into some kind of altered state – a trance – some high level of ecstasy that was unreal. I was definitely transported into a realm of incredible pleasure and I was dizzy with it.  I know I grabbed his butt and pulled him as deep into me as I could.   He started pumping faster and faster and then –it was over.  He was still on top of me, holding his body a few inches above me, as I lay there, absolutely helpless.  He pulled up and raised his head, looking down at me.  He seemed very pleased and triumphant even.  That was the first time – “La Primera Vez”, he chuckled.  Wow! I was in a whirl of disbelief and pleasure. 

Then he lay back on the huge bed and I did too.  Feeling all shy again I pulled one of the big king-size pillows over my chest and it covered most of my body.  He got all sweet and tender, smiled, “You don’t want me to see you?”

I was shaking my head a bit, and I just babbled, “I – I don’t  – I don’t know…  I ‘m sorry – I just feel —“ And he softly pulled the pillow away – “Hey, I love your body, I love this and this and this….”  His hands and lips were all over me, kissing and giving me little quick bites on my breasts, my nipples, my neck, my ears, my stomach, my legs, my shoulders, my crotch. “Hey – I’m a good kisser, huh?” he asked this so blankly, like a youth who had had his first kiss!  He was so much like a teen-aged kid, still unsure of how his technique was working!

“Yes, yes, yes, you are a terrific kisser!”  I was smiling again, entirely amused at his obvious youth and his own uncertainty despite his hot sexual style – amazing! He went back to kisses, kisses and nips and licks on my neck, shoulders, tummy arms – it was so incredibly sweet and made me feel so very good.   He was looking closely at my skin and touching me all over.  “Hey, you don’t got no tats, huh?”

“Tattoos?”  I answered, smiling and shaking my head. “No – no tattoos.”

But he was quite proud of all his tats… elaborate designs in blue, red and black – all over his back and all over his beautiful shoulders and huge biceps.  I put my hands on his face and just gazed at him.  What a beautiful face – wide cheekbones and the kind of Native Indian eyes I have seen on faces that have lots of ‘Indio’ – North or South or Central American Indian blood.  It’s ‘almond eyes’ as I call it, like many types of Asian eyes and also many types of African eyes.  I myself have eyes that slant upwards and I used to be teased and was called names like “chink” by kids at school.  I used to stare at myself in a mirror and worry about it and wonder at my features.  But now I love my eyes! Still studying his face, I traced his mouth with my finger.  His lips were a just little full, very shapely and well defined and I loved his features.  His skin a light olive tone, so tight and perfect, his muscles so big and so hard, his strong, well-shaped legs, his flat tummy and small ass; he looked like an Aztec warrior.  I thought, ‘Oh God, thank you!’  

And it must have showed.  He started kissing me again and yes, he was hard again – instantly.  He took both my wrists easily in one of his hands and pushed my arms back over my head, and kept me that way, so I was ‘held prisoner’ under him.  With the other hand he held his body above me and started kissing me, pushing his mouth hard against my tits and throat and I writhed in pleasure, my head turning from side to side in the sensuous joy of it.  He was kind of biting me and sucking at my throat, and from what I knew that would leave some tiny bruises.  ‘Hickies’ we used to call them. I said “Omigod – don’t make marks on me!”  And he laughed a little and did that ‘sh-sh-sh-sh-sh’ thing again which made all my juices flow even more. He sat up and pulled me to a sitting position, putting my legs on top of his, so we were like a rocking horse or a two backed rocking chair of some sort – face to face and legs around each other.  Then he pushed his cock into me and rocked us back and forth and I felt it go so deep it seemed to hit my chest.  That position – wow, I felt my insides vibrating and my stomach and vagina started to contract, a glorious sensation. He felt it. “Ahh, are you coming ? Yeah, yeah, yeah!”

It seemed he knew plenty about how to have sex –and it was surely all going to happen.  Then we really had to rest – I know I surely did!  I put my head on his chest and traced the tattoos on his arms, breathing in his male smell, his armpits with that sweet sweat of healthy exertion.  Then I looked down at his cock, which was like a huge fat burrito lying across his thigh.  It was so beautiful – I just had to move my hand down and gently touch it – he tilted his head back and let me do it.  I couldn’t help but raise my head and move down toward that cock.  I could not keep from kissing it softly and I slid my lips around the head of it in a circle.  He kind of jumped a little. “Hey, nobody never did that before!”

What!   I felt my eyes widen in surprise!  I thought I was hearing things – had he just said he had never been blown!!  OMG I thought – oh this can’t be real – he is too young! Oh what am I doing!  I had NEVER heard any man say anything like THAT in my life!  Years ago, when I was first divorced, I had been with so many – and many who were really young – just maybe 20 years old and less …  Yet NEVER did any guy say THAT!

But since I so love having a man’s cock in my mouth I just continued – I started licking it from the base all the way up to the tip, rubbing my cheeks against the shaft and gently letting my mouth slide down on the head – and then down and down till it felt like I was choking… and oh, I do so love that choking feeling!  I did this only maybe three times and his cock had gotten SO hard it seems he couldn’t wait for another second!  He sat up and wanted to put it inside me again! This time it was to be doggie-style – I was flipped right over on my tummy by those big strong arms.  He grabbed my hair and made me go face down on the pillow top mattress. Then he pushed his hand firmly right between my shoulders and my body easily went down – that is – the top part, my breasts were squished under me.  His arm went under and round my stomach and he raised my ass to the level of his waist or someplace high – I surely could not turn to check!  On his knees, he held my waist and hips high with both hands and jammed that cock into me yet again.  This time it was really fast and furious, and he kept slamming it into me while I grunted and gasped in short rhythmic spurts.  He came quickly when he went so fast.  When he let me up I rolled over and put my hands on my breasts.  “Hey – did I hurt your boobs? Man, I love your boobs.” 

(I dislike that word –boob’ or ‘boobies’ for my breasts and I said so). “It sounds like they are two stupid things – please don’t say that.” 

“Do you like if I say ‘tits’ – OK? I say ‘tits’,” he decided easily.

“OK, yes – much better!”  He laughed and put his hands under them saying, “Man, I love your tits, yeah I do. Hey – what size are you?”

Again amused and blushing at the same time at his talk, I bit my lip, and said, “Oh I don’t even know!”

He snorted and said, “What – you don’t know? I say you’re 38 DD. Lemme see your bra – where is it?”   Turned out he was exactly right…

‘Now we are really finished for today’, I thought.  I can’t get over how comical it is when he says something out of the blue, so impulsive, so immature, so silly at times.  He just talks and acts like a kid.   It’s so funny, yet so crazy, yet what he does with his body … whoa, it’s knockout hot.  Yet he really acts just like a kid in grade school!  Cause, the next moment, he rolled over and put his arm next to mine and said, “Hey – we’re like the same color. See?” We were indeed pretty much the same color – I had been in the sun a lot, I was tanned, which I liked, and I had always tried to get as dark as I could many years ago.  But now I slather sunscreen on so I do not get that dark as I would like to. Anyway, the tone of his skin was a medium light olive, very even and simply beautiful.  Lying on the bed, utterly exhausted, I started thinking about everything.  I realized he was really a young guy – and I really was dazzled by all he knew about how to have sex in so many ways, let alone how intense his energy was.  I guessed he had seen a lot of sex movies to see how all these positions were done, but he said he had never had a BJ??  

I guessed he had NOT been to a prostitute as I am pretty sure most guys ask for that right away!  Or if he had really had a lot of women – well, I guess they did not want to do it.  It really seemed odd to me, but I sure wasn’t going to be wasting too much time on analyzing it!  Suddenly he jumped up and said, “I gotta go.  Can I take a shower or I wash off in your sink?”  Again, the sweet childish questions. “Please, use the shower,” and I gave him a big fresh towel.  He got ready to leave.  It had been only a bit over an hour that he was there!

That was on a Saturday – just before Mother’s Day.  20xx.

The whole thing was so extraordinary, so thrilling, kind of risky – actually very, very risky – but so totally wonderful!  Now I was hooked on all of this new adventure.  It was so very amazing, so exciting, simply entirely and impossibly fabulous!  How could this have happened to me!

The Girl Can’t Help It

I know! i have neglected this blog again. I’ll leave that small ‘i’ to show how sorry I am. But I’m back today. Because this incident has been roiling in my brain – I simply can’t stop remembering it. I do think I know why most women do nothing about things like this. What happened? I guess it was a ‘rape’, but I will never quite call it that, or report it, or make any big deal about it. I feel I should try and understand what happened and why I am ‘okay’ with it. Anyway, I already know I won’t do a thing about it. It was a sexual incident with a man I used to go with. I am not still with him; or maybe I am somehow, because he’s part of my life for various reasons. I like him; he likes me too. A lot. And I have a real dilemma when it comes to dealing with him. So, I actually needed to write a bit about what happened with Miguel, maybe about eight months ago by now. Yes, with Miguel and also with Me.  I am a very strange creature – I feel hot, even when I say no, and even if I think I mean ‘NO’. So it’s easy to see why men don’t take my “No!” for an answer… and whose fault is that!?

I cannot think of any way out of it, nor do I have a clue as to what to do about it, nor do I have any notion as to a way to prevent it in future. I am the problem. I am just made that way – and if you’ve been reading my posts, especially the earlier ones, you will understand that I have been primed and groomed and I do have an ‘allowing’ reaction, despite my reluctance to do ‘it’ or not.

Wet? Oh, I almost always am, a bit.  But some time ago, Miguel was here and he and I were sitting on that sofa, and he did what he ought not to have done. He put his hand under my clothes and stuck his forefinger in my vagina – and felt inside me to see if I was ‘ready enough’ for his cock. Oh yes, he was going to put it in me. I knew he was determined to do it, and I was already resigned that he was surely going to make it happen. No matter that I said ‘no’.  Even if I was not ‘his’ anymore, he still saw me as he always did – his for the taking. So I knew he was going to fuck me, like he had always done before, when we ‘were going together’.  And I immediately got compliant – sort of; as I knew there was no use in doing otherwise.

I cannot really explain what happens or why or how… but he excites me, he scares me, he amuses me, he helps me… he is just connected to me.  And while I do not want it, I can’t stop the habitual reaction in me, that process of me responding to him. So weird! I tried to hold him off; I kept protesting, saying ‘no, no’ – and I did mean it. I think I meant it in my mind, but he wasn’t stopping, no way. Oh, you know he is amazingly strong, so many muscles, just such a male powerful body.  Really, I can’t do a thing and I was scared of him and pretty tense and he decided I was not wet enough for entry.  So he pulled my tight pants part-way down, to the top of my thighs, leaned over sideways and popped his mouth fully on my vulva and stuck his tongue in my vagina. Never asked me – just did it. He knew I was wet enough after that.  Just with his saliva – so it was all he needed.  And he did enter me – oh, yes he did. He just whipped my tights completely off in one swoop, while I was struggling, gasping and trying to keep his hands off my body.  He rolled onto me, got fully on top of me at that moment, and the next second, his pants were undone, his cock went right between my legs and way up inside me.  I knew I was entirely helpless. I did not scream or fight anymore when that happened.  I lay flat, I lay still – my legs were not that far apart, and he still shoved it into me, all the way.  I bit my lip, I clenched my jaw, I whimpered – but he said “Shhh, shhhh” and even put his fingers over my lips – softly, but yes he did stop me from making another sound.  Then he kissed me – his tongue in my mouth – and he does kiss so well.  I let myself succumb, and he moved only a few more times. He made a slight grunt and he let his face fall onto my breasts.  Very strange experience – that moment when he seemed helpless himself – but only a brief moment. Oh, I could have still screamed but of course I did nothing.   I felt his semen spilling out of me and I shut my eyes.  He lay on me for a bit and got up, put his cock back in his pants and brought me a dishtowel.  We were in the small room off the kitchen.  It was not even a private area – made no matter to him.  I clutched the towel between my legs, got up too and went up to my bedroom.  I lay down and just huddled there, under the blankets. 

He came and lay next to me, holding my hand.  He quietly asked, “Was that a rape?”

“Yes,” I whispered. 

“Really?  It didn’t feel like that to me – I didn’t hurt you…” He seemed puzzled.

“What do you call it?” I replied.

“Hey, I am sorry.  Hey, I swear I’ll never do anything like that again.  I promise I won’t. So are we still friends?”

I blinked at him.  “Sure, sure.”

He kissed my hand.

Island Girl Games, continued

Well, this was going to be play-time, and I am surely in his power – I guess that is my fate with men who start up with me. I never seem able to stop it, to assert myself. That habit of all the years of my life is strong. So strong. I am very aware of how I allow it to control me; yet I have no way to be in charge, no way to not want to please a man. Yes, something’s wrong with me, I know. I know I was molded and manipulated – pretty much all my life. I say again, it cannot be ‘fixed’, as I now want it in so many ways. It has become too arousing – all the many twists and turns, the ways I am led to behave and how it makes me do things.

So the next time he called, it was rather late in the evening.  It went this way:

“I have fire going. I have a glass of my favorite whiskey. And I’m thinking about you, about your body.  I really want you.  Was it good for you last time?”

“Yes.”

“What would you like to do tonight?  What are you doing?””

“I don’t know. I was watching a nature show.”

“I like nature shows – I like shows of your naked body.  Send me a pic of your pussy.  All natural, I want to see it – and your tits.”

“I – I  can’t. It’s hard to take pics you know.”

“Do it.”

“I really… I can’t right now.”

“I want it.  You understand you are disobeying – and you do know what happens when you disobey?”

“Yes – yes, Sir.”

“So are you all naked? You better do it.  Cause now  I am going to spank your ass – very hard and very slow.  It’ll sting, and you will be hot and your ass will be all red.  But first I want to watch you finger your pussy – play with yourself… then lick the juice off your fingers.  Show me.  Then I will lick your pussy.  I want you to hold it wide open for me.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. Now, bend over the bed and I will hold your hands behind your back.  You can squirm but you can’t get away.  You don’t obey fast enough.  You need to be taught better manners.  Say ‘Sir, yes, Sir.’”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good.  But it’s spanking time – first with leather gloves, then my bare hand.  Oh, you will be sorry you disobeyed. Your ass – that round, plump, creamy bottom – it’ll sting so bad.  I’ll make it sting sharp. Slow, hard swats.  You are waiting – you are scared – but you know it’s coming – expect each slap, each hard, slow spank.  You have a red and stinging hot butt.  You are wailing to have me stop.  But oh, no, I won’t stop.  I am deciding what’s next for you, my girl, my bad girl.  I need to pay attention to those tits.  Nipple clamps – that’s next.  I am going to clamp them on – just on one tit, hands tied behind your back.  Now I take the small whip.  I will whip your tits – whip your pussy, right inside – where it’s all so wet.  Then your ass gets it.   I’ll suck and kiss your tits, tighten the screw on the one with the nipple clamp – you’re gonna be begging me to do it. Do it BEG me. NOW!”

“Oh please, Sir, please suck my tits, oh please, Sir.”

“Just one tit gets kissed and kicked and sucked.  Which one?  The one with the clamp?  No the other one.  The clamp is pinching you.  Are you hurting?  Yes, it will hurt – a little.  Beg me to stop.”

“Oh Sir – it hurts – oh please, stop please!”

“No. I will do what I like. One tit kissed the other one pinched – yes, that’s it.  Now get ready for your ass fucking.  You are helpless.  Do you like being helpless? No choice, you have no choice.  I am your master.  You know I am.”

“Yes, I am helpless with you.  You are my master.”

“I want you to lick my balls. Lick my whole body.  Wash me – every inch of me, with your tongue.  Convince me you love it.  Or the clamp gets tighter.”

I love it, Sir, I will gladly lick your whole body – with my tongue.”

“I will whip all the most sensitive places on your body with my little whip.  It stings too.  Thighs wide apart – pussy lips spread open, spread those pussy parts for me NOW.  Do you want to come?”

“Oh yes, sir!”

“Well you can’t come yet. Not without my say-so.  Only let it happen when I give you permission to come, understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Never come without permission. Never. I think you are almost there.  Are you hot, close to coming, finger deep in pussy?  Yes?”

“Yes sir.”

“Are you really so wet?  Let me feel.  Oh, yes, you are!  Good girl!  Very good – now pinch your tits, think of me licking you, my fingers in your pussy and in your anus, and my tongue in your cunt, then your mouth, then you suck me off while I whip your ass.  On the floor on your knees, while you suck me, suck hard, suck! Take it all. All! Yeah! I feel good. And  I am whipping your sweet ass while I have my cock in your mouth. Now I am coming in your mouth – swallow every drop.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now I am licking your pussy, oh it’s so wet.  On your clit – soft touch – you are close to coming now, in my power totally.  I am gonna fuck your ass now – I am so hard again.  You have permission to come again, while I fuck your ass.”

“Yes, sir, thank you sir.”

“You will be tied to the bed with silk scarves – face down, you know what’s coming – ahh you are gonna get it so deep, in that tight hole in your ass.  Ahh, coming again!  Yahhhh!”

“Ohh sir – ohh!”

“Thank me for whipping you and for fucking you and for making you come, and for letting you come.  You are my slave – my island slave girl.  No way ever can you get far from me.  I own you.  Always.  I provide all you need and you provide all I need.  This is the way it’s gonna be. Understand that?”

Yes, yes sir. Yes, yes.”

“Thank me.”

“Oh sir – thank you sir. Thank you.”

“All right. Are you sleepy? You may sleep. I’ll call you again soon. Good night. I love you. You know that, do you?”

“Yes. Yes, sir. Good night, sir.”

The Phone Sex Job

I needed money.  No way to get a regular job in my situation at that time.  So I had a phone sex job for awhile.  Do you want to hear about it?  Sure.  It’s not easy to talk about it – even now, though. But I was pretty good, I guess.  I got through it because I had learned that I could transcend reality for what I felt I needed to do.  I could easily ‘disassociate’.  I had done it with various situations in my life.  It was survival.  So with that phone sex job, that ‘skill’ – or process – went right into action. The way I approached it seemed to make good sense.  I recalled that old movie, with Barbra Streisand – ‘For Pete’s Sake’ where she had ‘turned tricks’ to help support her husband.  It was a comedy!  Ha-ha-ha!! Yeah!

So I looked up ‘phone sex’ and got a ton of links to try.  I was confident that I could surely do it. I would be ‘out of the direct action’. What a great way to get some money and have silly sexy fun too!  And all ‘anonymous’.  No-one would ever even touch me or see me!!  Perfect!!

But that’s not quite how it all happened.

There was a series of communications, contracts, etc. via email from the company, and there was one special document, detailing the types of ‘needs’ that various callers would have, and how to ‘be’ the characters that were apparently popular.  Here is an example – a partial list – of the characters.  It seemed pretty easy to do, for one or two of these.  I was very good at the ‘just barely legal’ one, as I basically do act like that.

LIST of CALL DESCRIPTIONS (CALL TAGS)

These are brief descriptions of what I was expected to do. First the ‘straight-talk’ from the ‘manager’, a husky-voiced, no-nonsense, business type, fake-named “Constance”. She reviewed the email documents and made sure I was fully aware of how to proceed.

“Always use everyday names for your characters. Try to start out your call with some type of conversation and keep it going in ‘ordinary talk’ as long as you can.  You will be paid more the longer the client is on the phone with you, so get skilled at this technique.  Try your best to avoid going straight into sex.  Never give out any actual personal information and NEVER give your phone number or true location.  NEVER willingly accept and absolutely NEVER ask for the caller’s phone number or address.  They may offer it – in fact they often will give you their number – but do not EVER call them back, and do not ever say you will call them back. Understand this: Any violation or infraction of this rule in any way whatsoever will result in immediate end of the call, immediate termination of this job and possible legal action against you.

This is very important! You MUST be 18 years old in this business, so DO NOT EVER say to the caller that you are under 18 years of age.   Anything you say that ever seems to suggest that you are under-age will cause immediate end of the call and immediate termination of this job.”

Here are the types of calls to prepare for: (This was all sent in a written form, laid out for me to study, like ‘homework’.)

JUST BARELY LEGAL

Your character is very young, so you are all giggly, bubbly, and outgoing.  Say you are still in high school (year round), and you hope to graduate next year.  You are excited about school events (sporting events, dances, all of it)

The boys at school are all hot for you. You love to get attention from GUYS on any of the SPORTS TEAMS, like all the boys who play football, basketball, soccer, etc. You like the cute guy whose locker is next to yours.  Another thing – the male teachers at school are all turned on by you and of course you love it – since you are totally turned on by your male teachers!

You love going to the mall with your friends. You like to be up to date with fashion and trends. You are into all current technology – texting and all the chat and snapshot apps. You enjoy movies, spending time with your friends, or hanging out at “the cool spot.”

When someone you know is having a party, you make sure to go because you always want to be where the fun is.  You wear hot skimpy sexy clothes and you and your friends compare how cute you all look in the sexy undies and all of it.

ANYTHING  CAN  HAPPEN

You are a young, full grown, beautiful, curvy woman between the ages of 20 – 33. You are totally open-minded and are okay with trying out new things. Take a tip from the caller about what he likes!  You can be a full time college student or you have a full time job, but of course, you still like to have fun on nights and weekends. You love shopping, movies, dancing, and you enjoy the club scene. Learn the names of a few clubs in the big city close to where you are so you can describe some favorites well. You date frequently try out pretty much anything with pretty much anyone, but you keep all options open.   You can use your real life experiences but don’t give out too much information.  NEVER give a caller any true personal information – remember that!  You are not allowed to exchange personal information, so be very careful with what you say.  Do not give real names of the places you hang out but you can discuss the environment or the setting.

Throughout the entire call, you want to sound interested in whatever the caller may be talking about and that may sometimes mean listening to his personal problems. Make sure the caller can hear that beautiful smile in your voice at all times.  Just go along with where he leads you – so ‘anything can happen’ – it’s your job to make him happy!

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

REAL  BIG  BREASTS

This is the same basic format as the ‘Anything Can Happen’ call, but you are a very voluptuous woman with really big breasts.  Your breasts are REAL – no fake implants! You know they are ‘hot’ and you show them off all the time.  You love to talk about the clothes you buy that show your big breasts and how you love to look in the mirror and see how the clothes you wear  show your big ones off, how you love it when men look directly at them and you love having them grabbed, squeezed, kissed, licked, bitten and sucked!  You love when men shove their dicks between your big tits, and you want them to squeeze your tits hard.  You love fucking and being on top of men so your breasts bounce around and you love bending over a man’s face so they flop on his face and he can suck at them. You love men coming all over your big breasts, you love to have their dicks rubbed on you when you are wet with their cum.  You want to rub a man’s cum all over your big tits and you love to feel it and lick it off your fingers.

Other types: MARRIED SLUT / BLACK / BLACK & MARRIED / COUGAR / TITS AND ASS DOMINATION / ROLE PLAY / FETISH / DEMANDING CALLER / CROSS DRESSERS

I won’t go into all of them. There are some types I never had even heard of, and some I would expect to know, but the details are still bizarre and beyond what I ever heard of.  I need to describe a couple of those more specifically:

M.I.L.F. 

This stands for ‘Mother I’d Like to Fuck’ and you are a ‘hot Momma’ and you know it and all the boys fantasize about you as do all the married and all the unmarried men in your neighborhood and anyone you know. You feel sexy all the time because you are sexy all the time and you are very, naughty!  You are hot all the time for teenage or young men and you are ready to be in charge or let them be, but you are always ‘older’ than they are, and you are never completely submissive.  You are not too forcefully dominant, but you are clearly the very sexy seductress, the “Mrs. Robinson’ woman of that old movie called ‘The Graduate’, and you are one hot-as-hell older woman.

(MY NOTE:  This seems sort of ‘cougar-ish’ but I had surely never heard of the MILF thing.  Not at that time anyway. It is no-way what I ever would even want for a second!   But wow- lots of guys like this a LOT! I am not kidding!  I guess it’s the counterpart of ‘Daddy’s girl or whatever!    I know some kids have sexual issues with parents at some points; but it’s pretty creepy to me.)

(the other version of this is T.I.L.F. – ‘teacher, I’d like to fuck)

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

Anyway – you get the idea.

The training:

I had to log on to a session with a number of other women, to again review and get more tips, listen again to the basics about the rules, as well as to hear how others had kept men on the line for very long times and how to do it.  How to play and tease and lure them into longer and longer times on the call so they’d have to pay more money. Sure!

The practice:

I’d call in – log in, and just wait.  Before any calls came in, I’d be told by a phony ‘sexy’computer voice what type of caller to expect:  ‘barely legal, married slut, M.I.L.F.    So I had to ‘study’ all the types that these men might want and get into the mind frame, which was not that easy to do, and changing my voice and tone and ‘character’ accordingly. 

It really is a demanding job!  Especially since some of the characters I had to ‘play’ were nowhere like myself at all.   But I seemed to do ok generally.  I know I did not ever learn to bullshit enough to keep men on the line for longer and longer – if they said something suggestive, I went right to where they wanted to go and that was the actual sex talk. 

I liked the ‘barely legal’ character, as I always felt little-girlish in general!  Yes, I like flirting and giggling and stuff like that and my voice sounds pretty young. 

I was rather surprised that such a lot of guys who called in, I mean a LOT – like the MILF call.  They would tell me how ‘young’ they were (untrue always of course) and want me to be sexually alluring as their mother image, whom they had always wanted to have sex with.  I actually felt sorry for them and tried to make them feel ok about that need.  So somehow, even though it was pretty sick, I could sort of do that, but it was gross to me.  I would still say things I knew would turn them on: ‘come over here and sit with Mama, oh you’re getting to be such a big boy!  Let me feel your muscles – oh-h is that something I see in your pants?  Oh, you bad boy! Let mommy have a look – ohhh –what a big one you’re getting!  Let me see – oh, I need to give it a squeeze!  Oh just relax and let me do it! Ooh so big!  I think I will get a long measuring tape and measure it.  Let me do it now! First, let’ s measure how long it is – oh my!  Now let’s see how thick it is all round!  Well, you are getting really big!  My gosh, it’s so hard now!  Do you want mommy to give it a kiss? Ok! (making smoochie sounds) Just let me hold it and feel your balls.

Ooh, you take such long showers!  Mommy knows what you do in the shower – and after that, I know you get all hot again and you start playing with yourself under the covers!  Bad boy!  But Mommy still loves you!  Let me just rub it a little bit – isn’t that nice?  Oh yes, it IS!  I know it is!  Just let me do it… And now if mommy makes you come for her, you will be all sticky so I will have to put you right back in the shower!  And I will give you a good wash!   Or, guess what!  I bet I know what will be even nicer – how about if mommy will let you take bath with her later, ok?  I will wash your pee-pee and your balls, and your bottom and you can wash my titties and you can put soap on mommy’s fuzzy place, and make it all swishy and slippery and so clean… then you can rinse it off and I will let you kiss it… cause you’re my big boy!’

S & M and Bondage

I was also good at the bondage or even the S&M stuff – if it wasn’t too horribly cruel.  Actually, it was sort of ‘hot’ for me – so I kind of liked it too.  I probably didn’t know enough about it, but I had a great imagination, drawing on some of the erotic stuff I had read over the years.  I’d be wildly crying out, moaning and panting and pretending to be tied up and telling them what they were doing to me.  

“Oh, I am sorry – I know I told a lie and it was so bad – oh, I ate that last piece of cake and I lied about that!  It was so wrong and now I must be punished!  I didn’t mean to!  Oh, I am to be spanked?  Oh, no, no – must I be spanked?  Wait – please – what are you doing?  Please don’t tie me up like that – oh it’s too tight, please don’t!  Oh no no – don’t get that!  Is that a – a – oh no! not a whip?  You wouldn’t use that on me!!  Would you?  Oh, please don’t!  I see it’s just a little whip!  But it will hurt still!  No, no! Oh, not too hard – please !  Oooh, I am trying to twist away from it!  Oh! Oh! I see your – oh!  Your penis – oh no! Now you’re so hard – oh, it’s SO big!  Please don’t hurt me!  You’re tying my ankles?  I can’t get loose – oh, no!

What’s that you’re doing – that cream – what is it? Oh –it smells funny – oh! It’s menthol – oh no!! Ooh — please don’t smear it on me – it’ll burn!  On my titties –ow!  – on my nipples – ow! Oh- oh I feel it – it’s so hot – oh no – not there!  Now it’s burning my pussy!  Oh don’t put it in THERE too! Not THERE!!   Not in my butt … Ooh nooo!!  I am begging you!!  Ahhhhh nooooo!  It’s killing me – oh oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!!

You’re holding me down, you’re so strong and I can’t move!  What are you doing!  You’ll make it hurt if you put your dick in me so fast – it’s too big and I can’t take it!  Ohh no, no – ohhhh!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Yeah – it went that way.  I ‘Love-Hated’ the domination stuff.  Was either disgusted or felt pity with most of the rest of the ‘types’  – generally stupid sick weird twisted in one way or another… of course I would ‘do it’ but the WHOLE overall job was too much like doing what X had made me do – with the same results – I HAD to go vomit.  It was really so depressing and humiliating – just like X treated me  – and I was more like a zero, again  … and no ‘big’ money was made.   So I quit.

But thankfully, there were some times which were like the calls I had initially expected – just hot fun sex talk with normal guys!  Yes, some calls were actually with nice guys, sweet good ones – the ones I would have called back … If all the calls were like that, I would’ve loved that job!

Most of the callers were so vile – ughhh!  Makes me nauseous right now to even think about that.  But the ‘normal’ guys were really sweet and I loved the conversations with them. These guys were just lonely guys.  ALL they wanted was to have sex somehow with a real female.  I honestly felt their pain!  I just was happy to make them happy.  They so much wanted a WOMAN and I loved talking to them.  I wished I could have even gotten to know them.  They were really just plain horny and totally normal and I absolutely enjoyed the phone sex with them.    They gave me their phone numbers too – which I still have someplace I guess!  But I surely never dared call any of them.  I recall a few still:

Juanito/Chicago – the Filipino guy;  Ken/ Las Vegas – the White guy;  Antoine/ Las Vegas – the Black guy… and a few others; well, nevermind!  It’s not really important anymore….

But mostly, the calls were creepy ones – the drunk-sounding gravelly voiced Alabama guy with that slimy crude talk – making me hate that Southern drawl that usually I kind of like … (‘here’s daddy at the door with his big cock all hard – Daddy wants you, baby girl.  He gonna put his ole cock in yo’ pretty pussy and in your ass too …but first he gone make you suck on it, baby girl… uh-huh, and it shore is a big’un…)

What shocked me the most?  The Jewish guys, mostly from Chicago and the South. They were so incredibly mean!  So vicious!  It surprised me completely!  I knew they were Jewish, because I heard the ‘accent’ in their speech.  I bet they keep kosher, are loyal to the death for Israel, observe every holiday – and think luridly of ‘shikses’ all day and all night.  Not one iota of respect for women, not a single shred of caring for the women that they were supposed to honor.  Maybe I should re-read the Torah and check those details on how Orthodox Jews are meant to treat women, I could be so wrong!

Anyway – that’s basically the main phone sex story.  One I wish I could totally forget!

His Island Girl

Ok. I know it’s been a pretty long time – and I know I should have written more regularly – I know I have been remiss. OK!  I KNOW.   Don’t even say a word. Please!

I just have had a lot to grapple with. You see I have a few really difficult situations I am trying to get through. It’s not life threatening, not illness, not a family tragedy, not like disasters or financial losses or any other types of human catastrophes that are mind and soul crushing.  I have had some of that too, but this is different. I need to make some choices and I am very bad at making sensible choices.  Oh, I have education – I have a pretty solid sense about philosophical ideologies, psychological theories and so on, human developmental needs, social influences, family and friend networks … I can tell other people all about what’s best for them – we are all pretty good at that, right?  But with myself? Ahh, well! I get caught up in my messy feelings and my desires and my uncertainties –all of which catch me – in some ways unawares, yet in some ways I allow them to control me.  It’s just feelings, right! Ha!  Well they are like chains of iron, all in my head, yet they constrict and bind me, they slam into me, they roll me around in a strong current of helpless confusion. 

And I know it’s all tied up to my past, because all the posts I have made here are so ‘alive’ in my head.  That telephone prank man – somehow he lives inside my brain.  He is so powerful still.  And I can hear his warm persuasive voice this very moment. 

I write this blog (“blog” – what an awkward and rather ugly word!) – but I write the way I talk: as if I am talking intimately, to some close friend, whom I can trust; someone who I feel – and who I hope – will really listen and stand by me.  Well here goes:

Are you ready to hear what’s been going on for years, and what is getting more intense now?  I was not at all ready to tell you.  Maybe I am still not ready – but it’s bubbling up and I know I will let it out. I say again that I guess this blog thing is a personal way of me seeking therapy – cathartic; and maybe it will be healing thereby. But that remains to be seen.

Several years ago, I met a man who was older, and who had the look of a ‘father’ type in my view.  Not my own father – not in the least!  But he had the appearance of a mature, strong man and he was confident and articulate and knowledgeable and had money and position.  He was smoothly considerate, he bought me things I needed, he was funny and fun, and we went to dinner, we had drinks at my place, and at his place.  We watched political shows, movies, comedy shows, went to expensive music concerts in town. He had lots of good social connections, knew the ropes, knew the ‘ways of the world’. He was also a military man – high ranking.  Had been in battle, had scars.  Was strong, tough and built like a ‘brick shit-house’ and I was most impressed with his background, his manner and actually, everything about him.  He was kind and smart and just good to be around.   He made me feel safe somehow. And he liked me.  A lot.  He joked, “You’re an island girl.  I’ve been all over the world, and I know all about you.  Yeah, an island girl.”

I laughed as it seemed like a nice image.  Palm trees, ocean breezes, swaying dance moves, island rum and coconuts… old romantic songs… Harry Belafonte, ‘island in the sun’ stuff.

Well.  No problem.  Right?  Right.  Ok, all good.  But – not exactly.  Well – not at all, in a new crazy way.  Not so very new either!  It’s been going on for quite a chunk of time.  Even though he lives quite far from where I live; he has connections here and he comes here as often as he wants.

And we talk on the phone.  Whenever he decides we will.  He texts me and I – I text back.  He says, “I am thinking of you.”

I reply; I ask if I should call.  “Yes” he says.  And I do.  It’s all so pleasant – small talk and a joke or two.  And then – it begins.  And as always in my childhood, I already know what will happen, I feel the mood, the footfalls, the steps as it begins and as I know it will proceed.  And I let it happen.

“You know, I want you.  Where are you right now?  What are wearing?”

I tell him.  

“Take your clothes off.  Do it.”   Pause.  “Are you naked yet?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Run your hands all over your body.  Touch your breasts, pinch your nipples.  Tickle your pussy. Tell me what you’re doing.  I want to picture you. Do what I order you to do.”

I comply.  Why am I doing this?  Years ago he said to me, “When did you become a submissive?”

“A what? I don’t know what that is,” I replied.

“You like to obey.  You just follow what you’re told to do. It is what you want too.”

“No – I don’t think I am – well, that word… I am not like that.”

“Yes you are.  I will make you understand that.”

“But – what do you mean?  I don’t want to be hurt.”

“Really?  Ok, well, we’ll explore how things happen and how it will turn you on to be in my power.”

He smiled and put his arms around me.  “Ha-ha.  Oh, yeah, my island girl, we’ll do things. Yeah, for sure.”

He smiled and put his arms around me.  “Ha-ha.  Oh, yeah, we’ll definitely do things.”

So some time went by, and he contacted me. After the usual preliminary text, to see whether I was ‘available’, he usually called.  It was quite late in the evening where I was.  He was waiting for clearance from air traffic people, so he could take his plane to fly out to his lake house. Yes he has his own plane. He texted.

‘It’s been rough here, bad weather.   So I miss you.  I am watching the end of a sunset.  Thinking about your ass.  And how much I love looking at it, and how hard  I will slap it when I spank you.’

I did not reply right off.  I had that ‘here we go’ feeling. And I begin to work with what I know he likes. I wrote back:  ‘I’m sorry about the weather.  So I need to be spanked? I didn’t do anything. Do I really need a spanking?’

He called my house phone. His voice was calm, masterful and direct.

“Are you even asking me if you need a spanking? Oh yes, you do. I think you know you need a good hard spanking.  I will wear leather gloves this time. I want to whack that bare bottom so hard – make it sting.  Make those round cheeks all hot and red.”

“Oh! Ohh!”

“Are you lying on your bed?  You better be.  Spread your legs.  Touch yourself softly, I want to think about it, I want to picture it.  I like you to get your fingers all wet – now put those fingers in your mouth.’

‘But – I don’t like that taste – please don’t tell me to do that.’

“Do it! Now!”

“Yes. Ok.”

“Say – yes, Sir.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you doing as I told you to?”

“Um – yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Oh – yes, Sir.”

“That’s better.”

I really was getting aroused and I was rather confused at how easily that happened. He continued:

“I am going to be out there soon.   In a week or so – or early next month.  We’ll do lots of things.  I have some meetings, and then we’ll go out to dinner.  I will buy you some good liquor, some new clothes – maybe. If you’re a good girl.  You can get ready for a special time.  I got some new toys for us to play with.   I got silk ropes, I got a little whip.  And I wanna whip you – your tits, your ass – not too hard – but enough to sting, to excite you. Are you ready?”

“I guess so.  I mean Yes, Sir!”

“I’m gonna fuck you – hard.  Penetrate you, every place I want to.  Mouth – pussy – ass.  Tie your hands behind you.  Get you down on your knees, on the floor. You are gonna suck me off. Suck my dick – open wide, take it all, hear me?  Then I come and you swallow – all of it – every drop.  I will hold your head and shove my cock down your throat, and I will yell when I come.”

“Oooh – yes, oh yes!  Yes, Sir, yes, Sir.”

“Good.”

“Now I want to fuck your pussy.  On your belly, get face down.  I am tying you up. Ok, you will submit to all I order you to do. Always. I have your hands tied at your back, silk ropes are binding your wrists.  I want you shaking.  I want you scared, but you are hot, aren’t you? Start begging me to do it all to you.  You want it, don’t you?  You know you need it, don’t you?  You never had it so hot.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Are you very wet? Are you all dripping?”

“Yes.  Oh, I mean – yes Sir.”

“Good.”

“I am so hard now. So very hard. I am so hot to fuck you, I really want you now. And I want you on your belly, hands tied. I am feeling your ass, rubbing my hands all over you.  I am putting my fingers into your pussy from behind, and you are very wet.  My hand under you, pushing between your legs.  Move your hips.  Feels good – doesn’t it?”

“Yes, yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Don’t get sloppy.  Always say ‘yes, Sir’ immediately.”

“Yes, I am very sorry, Sir.”

“You need more spanking, you are not listening very well.”

“Oh Sir – I will be more attentive.  I am very sorry, Sir.”

“All right.  I am ready to fuck you – in your ass.  Now. It’s gonna hurt. I got a really big hard dick. Lift your ass up high. I am going to spread those cheeks and slam my dick into that ass.  I like it tight.  I want to hear you scream when I do it.  I want to hear you beg for it.  Beg me! Here I come!”

“Ohhh – ohhh please Sir! Please – I want… oh no! Ohhh!”

“Scream – scream! Yes, yes!”

“Ohh Sir, oh, please Sir!”

“Ahhh – coming inside you! Ahhhhhhh!”

“Ok, I need a rest. So you can go to sleep now, you’ve been a good girl.”

Well this is the basic game.  It’s phone sex.  But soon, he is going to actually be here – well – sometimes.  Not sure what to do, really.  But he has me in this place where I seem to do as he wants.

I’ve done this kind of stuff before. Yes, the phone sex job.  Well, I did kind of like some of the guys.  I’ll have to tell you more about it.  I did not mind the regular guys at all – they were kind of sweet, and just wanted ‘normal’ sex talk.   Oh, let’s face it, I don’t even know what normal is – does anyone!

The Apple Orchard

Directly across the street from us lived two Italian families in the same flat.  It was on the ground floor and they sat outside on the stoop, after dinner, every day in good weather. Giuseppe Domingo (Mingo) and Marcello were brothers–in-law, their wives were sisters.  All of them were so beautiful.  The women, full bodied, shapely and always cheerful, warm and friendly with everyone. The men – oh good God!  So handsome, especially Mingo, big and dark-skinned, built like a Michelangelo sculpture, with rippling muscles and a smile to swoon for.  Marcello was also well made, smaller in frame but really a good-looking man too.  The men were so casually and confidently sexy in their sleeveless undershirts, with that Mediterranean easygoing gorgeousness.  They were always smiling and calling to me and my little sister (who was hardly more than eight years old) and any female that passed by!  It was obvious they simply adored females in any form – and they flirted brazenly with all the girls on the street!  They did this in front of their wives, children – anyone at all. No one around had any effect on them.

Well, several of us girls who lived around them on Belvedere Street were often called over to sit on the stoop, so we casually went and ‘visited’.  We vaguely felt and pretty much knew that it was kind of disrespectful of the wives, but no-one seemed to care that much, including the wives.  They gave us cool drinks and creamy pastries. We laughed with the men, sat on their laps as they pulled us to do so, and they openly kissed us on our arms and hands. 

Mingo said to me one afternoon, “I dream in da night about you, you very beautiful girl!”  I was flattered, and flirted back, “Oh, what about your wife!  Don’t you dream about her?”   He burst into laughter and smiled broadly, saying, “Every night, every night!” 

We both laughed.  Yes, with those Italians – it was all good!  

One day, my good friend Denise and I were at the corner store, buying homemade dill pickles.  We were poking our hands in a huge barrel full of brine and pickles, and Mingo came in. His face lit up in a huge smile and we smiled back. He told us he was going to go to the apple orchards outside the city, with Marcello.  They had a truck and he asked if we wanted to come.  I don’t know what day it was but it was Fall and not a school day. Denise and I were twelve or so.  We looked at each other.  Why not!  So we went.

As far as I recall, we never asked our parents – hers were working anyway, as they had a small flower-stand downtown and were gone every single day, including weekends.  My mother was probably at home, but that was fine with me. 

Mingo said we’d be back in a couple of hours, so off to the countryside we went.  It was a long ride.  When we got to the orchard, we all had to pee and did so among the apple trees.  We started pulling apples off the trees and filling the two bushel baskets that the men had brought.  Mingo pointed to some very fine apples on a higher branch and just lifted me onto his broad shoulders with one motion, so I was sitting with my legs around his neck.  “You gotta take-a dose apple,” he said, pointing to a branch I could reach from my perch on his shoulders.  I stretched my arms and reached to get those apples and as I did so, he held my legs to steady me.  He started caressing my thighs.  He turned his head and started kissing my bare legs as I pulled at the apples.  It felt wonderful.

I was instantly excited and felt my pussy getting wet. I really did not know what would happen next. I looked around, to see where Denise was. She and Marcello were already lying on the bare ground kissing passionately under the trees.  He was squeezing her lovely full breasts. His hand went up under her dress, and she was loving it, her head thrown back, her lips smiling. 

Mingo got me off his shoulders and started kissing me.  I loved it and let him do as he wished.  There was plenty of kissing of both of us young girls, with their hands in our pussies.  Both men’s cocks were out of their pants – but they never did more than that to us!  They simply both jacked off while they kissed us.  Amazing! 

Then into the truck and back home we went.  Denise and I got bags of apples to take with us, and that was all. Again – never a word was ever said, to anyone, about any of it.

Laughing, Crying

Well I have been editing and revising this post all night – I am really struggling! I might have to delete it and start all over! I think (and write) about what happens to me now, more than I ever did. I am at a point in my life where I am involved with some people that consume me in ways that are wonderful or frightening, and always overwhelming. I believe it’s my last chance to learn anything about ‘me’ – since I never looked at myself directly before. One big issue for me is why I am the way I am, in regards to my sexual self.  But it has also shaped my entire life in significant ways.  So I feel it’s high time for me to have an honest look at who I am in this regard.  It’s a topic I always played around with, and always joked and laughed and quipped and just messed with sexy stuff all the time, and most everyone I know – I think – enjoys my sensuous behavior and comments, and we all laugh about how I am.

I love sex and I love males and I want sex and so I am very open about it.  Wait – NO! Just stop right there:  I know what you may be thinking – and I am absolutely not a nymphomaniac – but oh, I do celebrate sex!  But no, I am not ‘crazed’ over having it.  Well, there are days or nights when I do feel a little crazy with wanting it!  But mainly, I feel incredibly lucky to have such fabulous sex in my life now, as I know full well that it’s a rare and special luxury – a gift which few are treated to!  But yet, I also and often have been victimized by it.  There are so many aspects of my own sexuality I have not talked about openly – even with those closest to me.  It’s because there are parts of me – well, very strong feelings and potent secrets – which I have felt quite unsure about – even at times ashamed about.  I say again – I KNOW it’s not my fault, but I FEEL like I make it happen. And that makes a serious conflict for me, regarding self acceptance.

I honestly do NOT feel that it was I who chose this path of feeling and responding.  It’s rather complex, but I do think that the ‘way I am’ has in some ways been implanted – maybe even imposed – upon me, and yet I also feel that in other ways it touched on something truly inherent within me.  I am trying to make some kind of sense of it all.

I know it’s a topic that many people are not at ease with – I myself am trying very earnestly and very honestly to sort out how I feel about what I have done and about what has happened to me.

I am a person of ethics and convictions, but suddenly my ‘morals’ do not exist in the ways that I was taught.  I have, or have had, strong beliefs, about how to live.  But now I am in completely uncharted territory – I feel that I have fallen down the proverbial rabbit hole, and gone right ‘through the looking-glass’… things are upside-down, backwards…  And I repeat – I find myself on a yellow brick road of my own – I’m in some personal version of the Land of Oz, in a maze of smoke and mirrors, and exploring to find my way in all of it. Wishing for all to turn out well, but knowing I am not in ‘Kansas anymore’ for sure!  I simply don’t know what to expect or where to turn…

I know I am a good person and a capable, kind, honest, caring and rational person.  Basically I like myself: I feel quite confident in so many areas of my ability and I can do and have done lots of worthwhile and relevant things. I care so much about good people, animals and the natural world with all my heart.  I always will do all I can to try to make good things happen for anyone – any good person – whose life touches mine.  I love to sing and to dance and to laugh!  I love being happy and sharing the joy I feel in life all the time.  People do see that – it is just so real and so complete for everything about me, and they respond very warmly.  I feel deeply about others and I do agonize and also cry a lot and so easily about the horrors of what happens to so many people, and so many animals, and to so much of our beautiful planet, because I can do nothing much to change or help make things better.

But at this time of my life, there is a new and different symphony being played by a new and different orchestra.  It is reverberating very loudly in the music hall of my world.  It is a composition that has been created by someone in another realm – and it is guiding my daily life more than I could ever have imagined.  This I do believe. It is so utterly exciting, so mind-blowing and so incredibly thrilling – well, I want to share it.  Yes, I want to tell others and frankly I can’t seem not to!  It is so much on the forefront of my mind that it is also on my tongue in less than a twinkling, as soon as someone asks casually, “How are you?”  That’s all it takes – and – well it all comes bubbling out unless I make a colossal effort not to allow it!  

First of all, I am ‘sharing’ it with myself.   For most of my life I actually did not look myself in the eye about how I was behaving, why it happened that way and what motive I may have had – if any – or whether it had any significance or anything. I mostly just glossed over it all.  I just meandered down the path of what seemed to present itself before me.  But now – because what is going on is really pretty astonishing, I am being forced to face it in ways I never expected to before.  It is so bizarre in so many aspects that everyone who hears even a bit of it is amazed at the facts.  And it is all tied to my past, to my character, to my whole being; so I know I need to spend some serious time and effort to figure out what I can with all of it.  A strange journey for me – and one I must take. What I will talk about first are the times that have now come up as significant to me in the ways that have had an impact on what sort of person I am.  And I find that I keep remembering more and more , so I will review and insert more detail as time goes by, and the account will then obviously have to be modified or changed in certain ways accordingly.

To begin with, I think it relevant and singular, that so very many of my childhood experiences had such a clear and intense sexual element, and all of it had a flavor of someone controlling me.  It was not only a ‘flavor’, but a strong and central theme that is undeniably compelling.  I recognize that that sort of stuff clings to one’s psyche forever. 

One issue for me at this point, as I embark on my own personal exploration of myself – my past, my present and the make-up of my being, is this: Why am I still like that?  Why did I allow it, and why do I still?  Do I want this kind of control over me?  I have to say that I do. It is exciting, it is ‘all over me’ and it has an effect I cannot deny. It’s all encompassing and therefore extremely troubling. I want to understand: why, after all that I have learned about relationships, all I have accomplished as a strong woman, all I have done to be competent and capable – why, why, why – do I still want it?

 So I sit at my computer and work. I began all this in May, 2015.  I have a strong need to tell others, to talk about all of this on a one-to one basis; of course it can only happen with a select set of other people.  I can’t divulge this sort of stuff to just anyone!  But I have a real compulsion to tell people about it, and hopefully, to get some feedback, perhaps even some advice and certainly some interesting commentary that will assist me – and maybe whoever I can communicate with – to try to understand, to realize more, the why and wherefore about many things.

For one point of interest, here is a bit of information from one source about my birthday and related stuff!  Fun!  Of course you know how I enjoy all this sort of thing!   And I am impressed with this version, as it clearly refers to all the ‘love’ stuff, the powers of attraction and how dominant a theme it is with me – well, it’s pretty much true I feel:

BIRTHDAYS:   (no I won’t tell when!)  ‘ You who are born on this day side with the proletariat and tend to feel akin to the underdog.  You are facile with languages and you tend to have several ways of using a convincing manner with others. You do need a support system in managing your affairs of life, as you do not attend to practical matters.  You always cultivate and create a healthy sense of humor.’

Ok. I will take these points one at a time: section by section

Yes I care a lot about the ‘regular’ people, and I do gravitate to causes and issues that affect ordinary lives. I have a strong sense of justice. I am outraged at the wrongs that have been done and continue to be done to those without much power.

And – yes, I am silly with money. I do not know how to deal with it – and I really am not comfortable with ‘high living’… I do not even like fancy stuff, nor do I care about it at all.

NUMBERS AND PLANETS:   ‘Ruled by the number 6, and the planet VENUS, you are magnetic at attracting love and admiration.  LOVE is the dominant theme in your life, but usually you are on the receiving end and more rarely given.  VENUS is strongly connected to social interaction and you work well with others.’

So, about this part: yes – somehow I do indeed attract others. It seems genuine. It happens with both men and women, children and animals! I want to be liked and I seem to be; in matters of LOVE or SEX – I like many people, but when it comes to sex – I have felt distant with many guys. Only two men have really shaken my world; tell you more later!

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Essentially, what I am doing here is writing about what I have been remembering some very potent incidents from my childhood and girlhood.  I’ll get to my grown-up life later. I have already said something in another day’s entry along these lines – but I am not a stable grown-up! No, no, no! ‘Cause most people actually do behave like adults!  That is, they are sensible, careful, logical… But I am so openly emotional, I cry easily, laugh easily. I do not remember or follow rules much. I ‘transgress’ a lot. I mean, not in a hurtful way – but I do stuff like a kid!  I think that’s one reason I cannot lie very well; I actually am too open and impulsive when I say or do things. Can’t hide my emotions or my intent. And I need to say ‘I’m sorry’ quite a bit sometimes! I try to accommodate others a lot – which puts me in a very unusual place most of the time.

I Need to Repeat

If you want to understand more fully what I am doing here, what I want to express, what I want to communicate, what I am feeling and why I want to tell anyone about it – please scroll down, way down, to the earliest posts and start there. It will make more sense that way – the chronological sequence will be more understandable. Thank You!

Uneasy

Ok, I know I have made a lot of people uneasy. It’s not a comfortable place, reading all these posts. Hey, it is is very difficult for me as I review and write all this. Please, just try to understand that I am trying to figure my past out, because my present is the path to my future… my present is actually good in many ways. Yet some of it feels too, too good. And I struggle with a lot of what I also feel so happy about. As I said earlier in another post: I am looking backward in order to continue forward… hold my hand…

The Telephone Prank Man

I had two close friends, one was Fannie and the other was Denise.  After school, we often went to one of our houses, and for whatever reasons, we were usually ‘home alone’.  So what did we three young girls do for fun?  We made prank telephone calls!  We dialed random numbers and messed around, any which way we could – silly jokes, whatever!  We looked up odd and funny names in the phone book and called them and just did every dumb thing possible that came into our foolish heads. It was the ‘internet’ of several decades ago – we were lost for hours in a world of anonymity, surprises, fun and mystery. Oh, it was so much fun… kind of like that ‘box of chocolates’ – we never knew what we were gonna get! And it was just as dangerous, and just as addictive.

One time, we got a man on the phone who intrigued us right off.   He was immediately quite taken with us young girls.  He had a deep, slow voice and he seemed to have plenty of time to talk.  He asked us all about ourselves and our school and our parents.  And, stupid children that we were, we gave him such a lot of information.  We made some of the answers up, but some were true.

We had fun talking to him though, as he seemed to be so very interested in all of us.  After a while, we knew that he’d always talk to us for a long time and we called him often.   We had not even found his name in the phone book – it was a purely random call.  But once we knew his number – oh well!

Sometimes when I was home alone, bored, all by myself, I decided to call him, as I thought it would be entertaining, engaging – and it always was.  I was sure that no-one would know or interfere – and it was just so easy.  This went on for more than a year.  

With this man, we never used any names – not once.   It was always ‘you’ and ‘I’ or ‘me’.  But the conversation got very intimate.  It was quite a game and I was quite secretly and quite dangerously involved with this man, but never met him, never knew anything else about him.  He was my ‘secret phone friend’ and that was that.  His voice was so special sounding, soft and close and personal, and he had such wonderful diction, like an actor, so clear and so precise.

He said he lived alone and he was happy to have me as a friend.  One rainy day he started telling me how I could do some things that would make him feel good and that would be fun for me too.  He asked if I had ever seen a man naked.

In his slow, toasty-warm voice, he asked, “Did you ever see what a man has between his legs?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Tell me all about it, how did it happen?”   I told him about some of my early encounters. 

“Well, my goodness, you have had some exciting things happen, haven’t you?”

Then he said, “How do you feel between your legs when you talk to me?  Does it feel nice and warm? Have you ever touched your pussy?”

“Yes.”

“How do you do it? Do you put your fingers inside? Are you doing it now?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you just try it for a few minutes – right now?  I want you to pull your panties down. Ok?”

“Um – ok.”

“Tell me when your finger is in your pussy. Tell me when you’re touching it.”

“Ok – uh – I – I am touching it.”

 Is it very warm? I bet it’s feeling kind of tingly – isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Is it getting all wet now?  Come on, now, tell me, is your pussy just a little wet?”

“Yes.”

“You know something?  What would you say if I told you that my penis is getting all big now?  You are making it all big.  Do you like thinking about that?”

“I – I don’t know… I think so.”

“Yes, it’s big, and it’s all hard.  You are making me very hard.  I have my hand on it and I am rubbing it up and down, and it feels so good!  Did you like me telling you that?”

“I – I – I guess so.”

“Now slide your finger inside your wet pussy.  It’s all warm and slippery – isn’t it? Feels so good, doesn’t it?  Come on – tell me, honey, tell me it feels so good.”

“Uh – it feels good.  Yes … yes.”

“Well, that’s just fine, just fine.  Feeling all tingles? Breathing kind of fast now?”

“Mm- I – I don’t know …”

“I am squeezing my penis, and it’s going to start throbbing and it’s going to spurt some of that milky sticky cream out – just for you!  You can touch it with me, you can make it squirt.  Then you can lick it off the tip of my penis.  Want to try it?”

“Ok.”

“Keep rubbing your pussy, and think about licking my creamy stuff for me. Oh, honey, I want to lick your pussy now.  Open your legs wide and let me do it.”

“Are you doing what I said?  Say yes, you know you want to.   Then tell me when you’re doing it…”

“Uh, uh – ok…”

“Say it, honey, come on, now…”

“I –I –I am… I am doing it…”

“Tell me exactly what you’re doing, love.”

“I am touching my – my – between my legs… my – my pussy.  And I am thinking about you – and letting you lick it…”

“Tell me you like it, honey.   Tell me – beg me to please lick your pussy now.”

“I –I –I like it.  Please – lick it now.”

“Lick what?  Say it out loud for me.”

“Ohh – um – please lick – my – my – my…. pussy…”

“Yes, honey, I am licking it.  Feel my tongue on it?  Nice and soft and wet and warm and I love it and you love it.   Yes, and you’re going to get hot and you are going to come. Tell me , did you ever come before?   Ohh, here comes my creamy stuff – oh, honey!  Here it comes! Put your lips on my penis, lick it all up, do it now – tell me, say you will! Say it!”

“Ooh – ohh – oh, ok, I will.”

“Good girl!  Open your mouth – open it really wide and big for me.  Ahhh – do it, sweet thing! Oh, you’re doing it just right.  Now I want you to listen to everything I tell you, every time you call me.  You do like talking to me, don’t you?  I want you to call me every day.  Promise?”

“Yes…”

Well, I didn’t call every single day, but I had become quite addicted to these talks, and I learned all sorts of masturbation tricks from this man.  He had me put creams and objects into my own genitals and into my rectum too.  And yes, always, always, there was the ‘licking’ talk, which even now, I do admit, affects me in many ways I wish were not happening…

And so it went for many, many months.  Then one day he got me to give him my phone number.   He then used that to call my house and my mother answered.  Apparently he tried doing some obscene talk with her.  She hung up immediately of course, but he tried a few times.  She was alarmed and I think she might have called the police or told him she would. 

I don’t know what happened after that, but he never called again and neither did I.  My mother never asked me if I knew anything about it, even though the first time that it happened, I was in the other room when he called. I heard her answer the phone and I heard her say, “What! Who is this?  How did you get this number?”  That got my attention and I listened, somewhat alarmed.  Then I heard my mother slam the phone down, and I was pretty sure why.  But I never said a thing to her. 

I did talk to my two close friends – Fannie and Denise – who had often been my cohorts in all those other ‘secret’ telephone pranks, and I told them that “Claude” (which is the name we had been calling him amongst ourselves), had phoned my mother!  I had to tell them that I had told him my phone number one time, that I did call him on my own.  We all laughed about it.  But never, oh, no, never I did tell anyone else about my own, very private games with “Claude”.

It was a strange and risky game, and I know I am profoundly lucky that he was never anything more than just so very creepy. I am pretty sure that if he had asked to meet me I would have done it.  But it never did  happen. I guess it just didn’t occur to him.  He had me pretty much in his power on those phone calls, and after all, it was I who called him. I liked it. It was such a fun secret, so wrong, so hot and so dirty and it fascinated me for such a long time.