Thursday, May 26, 2016


Sammy and I agreed we just want to have fun together. We meet on a week night and have dinner. We have a ton in common. His sister dropped out of the same college I dropped out of, we cheer for opposing teams but are similarly obsessed with sports, he seems nervous but nice.

We have dinner and then walk to another bar. We have a second drink. We go to my house and have a third drink. We get naked and I spend an hour lavishing attention on the most perfect cock and rock hard body I've ever been with. He is effusive with praise. Sammy calls me a slut, intending it to be part of dirty talk. Tears quietly flow but I keep going. He apologises, "I didn't mean it like that," "You aren't that word," "I'll never say that again." and on and on.

I know he's genuine. He couldn't have known that would have such an impact on me. I didn't know it would have such an impact on me.

We carry on. We finish. He apologizes more. I tell him its fine and I'd rather let the matter drop. When he leaves, Sammy kisses me on the cheek.

The next day we text filthy things to each other from work and Sammy tells me he craves my touch. He picks me up from work and we go to my house, to my shower, to my bed. He pushes my limits, makes requests of me. Some I agree to, some I don't. He doesn't press when I resist.

He wants to take pictures. You know, pictures. I agree but tell him, the pictures are taken with my phone so I control access to them and the pictures do not include my face. He eagerly agrees. He finishes and we watch a game before he leaves. I have work to do.

That night, he texts me asking for the pictures. I'm equal parts nervous and opportunistic. Our two encounters have been very...Sammy oriented. I tell him that tomorrow, its my turn, and if he's a good boy, the photos are his. Sammy thinks eagerly agrees.

Hours later, he's asking again. I remind him of the deal. Sammy insists. I demur. He pleads. I say no. He badgers. I tell him he's acting like a child. He tells me I'm playing games like his awful ex.


I tell Sammy I'm uncomfortable. I'm not ready. I don't want to do this and want to delete them all anyway. He tells me he'll take care of me the next day. I tell him I don't want it.

The texts cease. I work myself into an anxious state. And argue with myself

"Now he'll never like me."
You should lose his number
"But he's so hot."
But he's pushy and mean and isn't' taking no for an answer.
"He did warn you he's a very sexual person."

I go back and forth. I send Sammy one picture. He tells me I'm a good girl.
I tell him I feel disgusting. He tells me "I won't share these with anyone else. If you are afraid of me judging you, I'm not."

But his judgment doesn't mean anything. Its not about fitting into the role he wants. Its about me being able to live with the choices I make.

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