for the past week or so i've been making myself unbearably, unspeakably horny literally every day and my God does it feel good. i guess that's the natural consequence of obsessively writing erotica, huh? i'll be typing for hours, tap tap tapping away on my keyboard, and then when i get up my thighs are sticky and i squelch when i walk. it's incredible.
and that was before i started jacking off while writing, which for some reason happens quite regularly now. except for the times i'm writing in public (at work, near family, etc.) of course, but that doesn't stop me from thinking "oh no, this is really turning me on" and hoping nobody else in the train car can smell the horny on me. funny how i'm so insatiable that it doesn't matter where i am, i have these silly stories on my mind and i just have to put them on paper. it's not like i'm worried i'll forget. no, to the contrary i spent months daydreaming the same scenarios over and over and only now am i writing them down.
i feel so blessed that Twelve supports me in this. i was nervous about asking her to read them because it's not her thing, but she loves me (and my writing style lol) enough to read whatever horrible cringefest i've just churned out. you know this is the "sex with my gf" page so i'm kinda mad at myself that i spent a whole two paragraphs yammering on without mentioning her!!! i should note that no matter what it was that initially got me going, once i actually touch myself she's the only thing on my mind. and as always i cry out for her, never minding that she's not around to hear it, twice a day, every day, and then sit in my cum for longer than is reasonably healthy.
i wish she was here, i'm dying to feel her warmth and maybe definitely finger her.
I get so turned on just from eating out my gf that I drip all the way down my thighs, completely untouched. It's just so exciting. I've never played sports but I imagine football players dribbling straight across the field, unassailed, know a fraction of this ecstasy. If I could go down on her all day, God knows I would… We have so much fun, and I get to try new things every time. She's both quickly bored and easily overstimulated, so I have to find a good balance between chasing her pleasure spots and easing off to let her rest. Apparently I'm excellent at toeing that line. It's always great to hear her praise me, and I really like when she pets my hair or clenches my head between her thighs. Most of all I love listening to her moans and gasps, knowing I'm the one making her feel so good, and that I could push her over the edge any time I wanted. And then once she's had enough, it's so easy for her to flip our positions and finger fuck me because I'm already so horny from doing her!!! Ugh. I wanna do it again, like now. I miss her so much.
my girlfriend is so hot. as always, we got drinks to liven up the evening at work. and i "made the mistake of" chugging mine, thus turning me into a "drunk little bastard" (the latter of which are her words). i'm due to fly home in a couple days, so i asked Twelve to call the airport for me to clear up some last minute questsions. of course, she obliged. afterwards i felt so grateful that i said i'd give her road head (to continue a running joke from earlier in the afternoon). somehow that lead me to rubbing her through her trousers even though she was sitting at her work desk in the front room of our store. she unzipped them and put my hand over her underwear. very soft. they're cute, pink boxer briefs, which she said earlier were "perfect for sex." how apt a prediction.
it was kinda hard to find her clit when i'm 1. intoxicated, and 2. sitting below her at a really weird angle, but she happily guided my hand where it needed to be. amazingly bold, considering anyone could have walked in at any time. i wonder if she would have pulled away right away? or if she'd have waited until the last possible moment? anyways, she said it would feel much better if i put my hand inside her underwear, so i jumped up to go disinfect my hands. "you must be so drunk to agree to this," she said. i definitely am, but we musn't forget all the times i fantasised about doing stuff like this with her in public and semi-public places. most of the time, i explicitly pictured her workplace... ahaha, how lucky i am to have gotten a taste of it. we were even making out in secret earlier today, with her fondling my breasts and armpits while i tried hard to be quiet. fun times.
anyway, i did in fact get to put my fingers on her pussy, skin-to-skin. it was wonderful. i could feel her getting wet underneath me and it made me so happy i could barely speak or even tease her about it... i'm sure i would have found the words soon, but a dog barking outside distracted her so much that she asked me to stop. i'm disappointed, but we both had lots of fun with just that little bit. Twelve promised me she would jack off to the memory later, so everything's fine. i hope she'll fuck me when we go home. lately, she's been fingering me so good that i can barely contain myself... wanna do it again. aahhhhh.
i was once again roused in the middle of the night for the best sex of my life. truth be told, i didn't remember falling asleep. it felt more like i blinked and then Twelve was crouching over me, dripping with lust, and asking to finger me. half awake, i said, "okay, but i don't know how responsive i'll be." ah, how naive i was...
when she's with me, it's impossible to be unresponsive. there's something magnetic about her, a kind of irresistable aura. (in her words, "unbearable sexiness.") of course, the poetics are an afterthought. when she's three knuckles deep, all i'm thinking is "oh, God, yes, more, more." i swear i say it in every entry, but i can't believe how good it feels— like i'm coming apart from the inside, yet at the same time (Twelve's) soft, wonderful hands are holding me together? it's hard to explain. just thinking about it gets me going which, obviously, is a distraction from writing. my inattention is further compounded by today's spectator: one beautiful girl rubbing my thigh as she watches me type.
Twelve has enlightened me to her new techniques. it seems i really enjoy it when she curls her fingers inside me, and i go mad when she wiggles them against each other. neither of us can come up with a good way to describe it... but now that i think about it, it reminds me a bit of swimming kicks. i, of course, remained— literally— blissfully unaware that any of that was happening, but i'm grateful nonetheless. i was really close to cumming this time; so close that the clench of my vaginal walls nearly snapped my love's fingers in half. overall, the best part is when we meet each other's eyes. in moments like those, despite my whimpering incoherence, i know deep in my soul that she loves me more than anything. i feel the same.
though our vacation together will soon come to an end, i'm not worried. after all, i'll have plenty of masturbatory material for when i go home. maybe we'll do phone sex again, who knows. it can't compare to the real thing, but it might be nice on our lonelier days. really, any time spent talking with her is time well spent.
on the twenty-second anniversary of the day of my birth, i got the most wonderful birthday presents of all: your soft skin, your sweet scent, your legs shaking as i'm bringing you closer and closer...
i wish so badly that i had something else than my fingers to penetrate you with. i want to feel you getting tighter around me. i want to thrust in and out of you and gaze into your eyes and... and also i...... would that be too much to ask of a birthday wish...?
...i want to be one with you.
thank you for giving me the best birthday in many years. i love you.
sometime in the wee hours of the morning, i stirred awake. immediately sensing my consciousness, Twelve came over for a midnight kiss and cuddle, and confessed she'd been reading this diary while i slept. i asked if that meant she wanted to have sex. (she did.) she asked if it was consensual, considering i was barely awake. (it was.) i said yeah, it's fine, let's do it. (we did.)
i got completely lost in the sensations. just thinking of her tongue on me, and her hands... it's almost hard to write it down, even in the vaguest terms, because i'm just getting horny all over again. it's the closest we've ever gotten to my orgasm. at least three times, i felt it building up— my whole body was trembling and i could barely contain my voice— but i've still got a mental blockage that prevents it. in the end, she laid beside me and held me close while i finished myself off. honestly, i think it's the best i've ever had. i got so loud that Twelve had to kiss me to smother the noise. without doing anything but reminisce, i somehow feel myself inching towards another one... how is it possible that just thinking of her gets me so hot?
anyways, following Twelve's full hour of birthday sex, we were supposed to go to bed. it was the middle of the night, after all. but when i asked her to clean the cum dripping down my thighs, she did it with her mouth, which naturally led to an earnest request to finger me. i wanted her inside me so badly, i couldn't resist. God, it felt so good. it doesn't make mathematical sense, but i feel like two of her fingers fill me up much better than our strap. in any case, i'd argue it enhances the intimacy and the connection between us, making for better sex all around. Twelve certainly enjoyed herself. she delighted in making me drip all over the sheets, and she told me again and again how amazingly tight i was.
then she made a massive hickey on my neck, big enough that i wore a bandaid over it all day. at bedtime, i took it off, and my little genius supposed she might remove the stray adhesive with her mouth. if i hadn't stopped her, she would have made the mark even worse!!! i get that she wants to show everyone who i belong to, but Twelve really is so silly sometimes.
ahh, my girlfriend must be perfect... she takes such good care of me, knows me better than anyone, and rubs my clit until her hand cramps up. what more could i ask for? i'm so in love with her and i can't wait until my next opportunity to eat her out.
(p.s. Twelve updated the tally marks last night ^q^)
yesterday evening, i became suddenly and inexplicably horny while we were at work. actually, now that i think about it, it was probably the dark beer i was cajoled into drinking, the kind that gets me drunk without fail. considering that last night i polished it off on an empty stomach, the effects must have been amplified. "effects" meaning the pressing urge to pounce on my girlfriend.
of course, the other effects were fatigue and sickness, so in the end i just rested my head in the back room and tried not to puke. there were at least 2 more hours of work to kill, after all.* with so much down time, i also contemplated the best way to get her to fuck me. my alcohol-addled brain didn't get much further than "beg," but that's a pretty good start, right?
alas, this story concludes without any sex. by the time we got home, both of us were practically dead on our feet. i did tell her something like, "wow, i was so horny earlier, just because of the magnitude of my gratitude for you and our love." after that, i vaguely remember being slapped in the ass with Twelve's shirt— purportedly because she "loves the sound it makes" (in reference to both the shirt and me). she also tried to bite my tits, which hurts, so she nibbled on my waist instead. then we fell into bed and were unconscious within minutes. incredible.
we fucked. i mean that in the truest sense of the word: she grabbed me in the stairwell on the way up to our flat, and less than five minutes later, she was pounding me into our bed. i quite literally prostrated myself to her and begged her to go at me from behind. (in Twelve's words, i was "at her disposal" and "waiting to be ravaged.") considering yesterday's build-up— plus several nights in a row where she only teased me a little— such a brazen display was inevitable.
even while we were still out, i loitered in our workplace's only blindspot from outside passersby and waited for her to feel me up. as always, my darling defied expectation. though she never grabbed my breasts, as i was hoping, when i came closer to examine something unrelated, she glibly reached under my dress. i am too embarrassed to elaborate on the noise made in my surprise.
all in all, i'm very satisfied: both with our brief semi-public escapades as well as the thorough fucking she gave me as reward for being so patient. i am particularly pleased with the praise Twelve lavished on me for fitting the whole strap inside on one go. after a bit of foreplay warmed me up, it sank right in. it's astonishing to think i spent my whole life spurning penetration, yet now i'm desperate for it.
also noteworthy is the memory of her hands around my waist, holding me in place while she fucked me... ahhh, so good. not gonna lie, i could go for more. after dinner, i'll throw myself at her again.
* as far as i know, drinking on the job is normal in this country, where break time is synonymous with going to a bar or café. what's abnormal is employing a woman as small as i am, one who also happens to be a total lightweight! it's not my fault half a beer knocks me out. that's just the price i pay for being so tiny and cute.
a short list of things i cannot believe:
i jest. it's not really miserable, and i'm actually quite happy that we take our time. there's no need to rush! but i am... very excited. who knows how much longer i'll be able to contain myself— and how many episodes of 'Allo 'Allo it will take to fire up Twelve.
the answers to your burning questions:
please excuse the massive autism ahead, but i finally understand why all those raunchy fanfic bottoms cry about "feeling empty." just the memory of having something inside— and enjoying it for the first time— it's so... wow... but even better is my memory of Twelve's pleased expression as she watched me ride her. i love her so much. i want to make her smile again soon!
although i had a lot of fun, it bears mentioning that strap-ons are incredibly strange and honestly difficult to use. Twelve even exasperatedly remarked, "i think God just didn't want women to fuck." she might be right... but hopefully, with a bit more trial and error, we'll figure out which angles and positions work best for us. i wonder if our size difference contributes to the hassle? supposing that truly is the case, i won't be getting any taller, nor she any shorter. we'll just have to come up with a solution— which, as the power couple Double Blossom, should be easy enough.
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the following diary contains foul language and explicit sexual content. viewer discretion advised!