Thursday, February 11, 2016

"Daddy Issues"

It's been a long time since I have written. Even now, I am finding the keyboard difficult to adjust to once again. In many ways, this blog was an outlet not only for fantasy, but for letting out frustrations. A person in a cage can easily write vividly of their desire to escape, as long as the ability to break out seems possible. After having tried the locks and chiseled at walls fruitlessly for years, even if the prison is literally of one's own making, the will to keep going begins to die, and so does the thought of what one might do if escape ever were possible. I feel that death. I feel a part of me has given up. These stories actually make me angry now, as the hopeful dreams of the prisoner who cannot escape slowly vanish into nothingness, and leave only fury.

I had someone comment on one of my stories and say "Your writing is gold. Please don't ever stop." I don't think it's gold. I think it's the frustrated ramblings of a man who will never experience any of it. If I were writing about meeting Peter Pan in Neverland, I could accept that. Knowing that (to a degree) there are people out there who have not put themselves in chains and are experiencing these very kinds of things ever day, and I can't even experience them once. All I can do is fucking write about this shit.

I'm effing Cyrano de Bergerac.

I'm that guy who can write a beautifully worded fantasy, and with all my heart want to fulfill it, but I can't, because of the chains I have strung so prettily around me. Oh, how I want to break free.

Yesterday, I had someone request a specific story. "You should write me a little fantasy..." they wrote to me. I know this person will probably never meet me. If they knew all I am carrying, they would run away. If they didn't, they must be crazy. I want to believe they are real, and so I will risk this next step.

I've never written something specifically for someone who asked for it.

Something tells me it's worth it, no matter what the outcome.

I haven't ridden this bike in a long time. Let's hope I don't wobble and fall over.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Daddy Issues"

The bell at the door rang as another customer came into the little diner where I was sitting. It had been a long day, and I was tired and ready to go home and relax. I'd finished my coffee, and was about to consider a slice of pie and a refill, when I noticed the young lady who had walked in. She was in a short, swishy little black dress with spaghetti straps that did little to conceal not only her bra straps, but the petite little figure underneath it.

As she leaned over the counter to call the server, I involuntarily leaned back to see more of her, and oh what more I saw. Her cute little bottom poked out like a tiny soft pillow underneath her skirt, and the way she was leaning revealed the perfect outline of lace panties that scarcely would have covered anything underneath. I must have been lingering on this way too long, because she turned and met my gaze with her own. There was a moment of shock, curiosity, and then realization in her eyes of what my eyes had been tarrying on. A slight smile crept across her face, and her eyes rolled playfully as if to say "Good luck "Dad". I am half your age." That fact sunk home almost as soon as I had imagined it, and I went back to cold reality.

A few moments went by, and I heard her speak again. She was on her phone now, and I could only hear her side of the conversation.

"Yes, my food is ready, but I don't have any money."
"You were supposed to leave it in my purse."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now? Can you pay for it with your card and I pay you back?"
"I can't believe this. I'm hungry, and they are gonna be pissed that I have to leave it."

She glanced over at me again, and seemed embarrassed. She turned away and said more to the person on the phone, but it was muffled by the sounds of plates being washed in the kitchen. I knew I would probably never see her again, but I felt a strong desire to help. Taking my own check with me, I walked over to the register, and said to the cashier? "How much is her order?"

The young girl turned, and said "Oh! No, really, you don't need to do that. It's fine."

I ignored her, and said to the cashier "Just put hers on mine."

The girl relaxed her shoulders, smiled politely, and said under her breath "Thank you. Really." Now a smile came, and she offered me her hand. I took it, and while this should have been just a handshake, (and it may have been just that for her) her soft hand sent a spark of electricity from my neck all the way down to my center, and I embarassingly turned away to hide my growing embarrassment.

"Damn it. All it takes is a flipping puff of wind to get me going, sometimes." I thought. *sigh*

After paying, as I was leaving, and I walked to my car, I saw her sitting in her driver's seat, finishing her lunch. "Wow, she's fast!" I thought. "She must have been hungry!" I opened my car door, then heard her say "Damn it to hell!" I turned to see her trying to crank her car, but only silence met her efforts. "This is all I need today." she said to the dashboard.

I made my way over to her, and when she saw it was me again, I got the same look I had before. "Oh my gosh. No, really. You don't have to do anything." she said. Of course, I wanted to help, but I thought "What if I am now bordering on creepy?" "What if she just wants me to go away?" I looked down and started to walk off, but after a moment, I heard her say "I'm so sorry, Sir. Um, do you think you could give me a ride home? I'm just right up the road." I turned and smiled, and a minute later she was in the passenger seat of my truck, playing awkwardly with the radio.

On the drive back to her apartment, I was trying not to stare, but I couldn't help it. She was like a woman from the pages of a dream yet unrealized. Her dark brown eyes and chestnut hair captured me in a way I was unable to push past, and when she looked at me again and smiled, the thin strip of fading scarlet on her lips made me want her in ways I had no right to entertain. I tried to play it off so calmly, but I kept betraying myself by stealing another glance...and another. Her long legs were a soft porcelain, and even though I had never felt this kind of fetish before in my life, when she put her feet up on my dash, her little painted toes made my blood boil. I wanted this girl in every possible way, and at that moment I allowed my mind to go to a place that should have made me blush:

*I pictured her on top of me, reverse-cowgirl, and my cock appearing and disappearing deep inside of her. Each time she went up, my body screamed for her muscles to return downward, and with each lowering of her hips, those muscles slipped over the head and created a "popping" sensation inside of her that made my climax approach way too soon. In this ever enveloping fantasy, at the moment of no return, I realized to my shock that I had forgotten to put on a condom before we began. I groaned out loud to her "No, I forgot the...!" but I heard her voice purr "I know. I wanted it that way. Fill me with you. I want to feel it. All of it." her hips drove up and down, and with my last sane thought I grabbed those hips and pulled her down hard, my cock sending cascading spurts of my release deep inside of her...*

A giggle from her jarred me from my daydream, and I looked her way. She was gazing down at my lap, and then she looked back up at me "Oh my! Ummm..." she said. I looked where she had been staring, and my cock was pushing upward, straining for release through my khakis. I felt a moment of mortification, and embarrassment. She sad "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...Oh! We're almost there, turn here." I obeyed, and couldn't wait for this girl to be out of the car so I could go home and hide my head in shame. We pulled up to her building, and she thanked me once more as she was opening the passenger door to leave. My cock was now (thankfully) at half-mast, and I was forcing myself to not look at her this time. She must think I am such a loser.

"By the way..." she said.

I looked at her once more, and she had a slight grin on her face. She reached over, and as if it were all happening in slow-motion, I saw her hand gently rest on the crotch of my pants. She curled her fingers around the bulge I was trying so desperately to hide, and gave a loving, gentle squeeze.

My cock SURGED under her touch, and an involuntary groan came from deep inside me.

"I'm sorry for putting you in such a position. I'll go now. But..."

My expression must have been a sight, because when she looked back at me, she bit her lip and said "If you would like to come up and help me with something, Sir...I would appreciate it. More than you know."

She closed the door behind her, gave one last look from behind those beautiful lashes, and turned toward her apartment. My hands were trembling as I prepared to put the car in reverse, but then I looked down on the seat next to me. A little scrap of paper read "Apartment 444."

My eyes shot forward as I caught a glimpse of her skirt just disappearing behind the corner. It only took one second for my body and mind to dictate what must happen. She was half my age. I put the truck in reverse, backed out, and made my way toward the exit. As soon as I was at the first turn outward, that same bolt of electricity snaked through my body once again, and I imagined those fingers curled not around the bulge in my slacks, but instead around the pulsing length of my cock, the head pulsing with each beat of my heart.

Like a maniac, I turned around, drove back to her building, and locked my truck as I left. I prayed with everything that I had in me that I was not about to walk into an apartment and get hit on the head with a baseball bat by her crazed boyfriend. With trembling legs, I walked up the flight of stairs, and found her door. I was about to knock, when I saw that it was barely shut-to. A feeling of excitement shot through me, as I realized that she had been confident I would not be far behind.

I pushed the door open,  felt the warm air sweep past me, and heard light music playing from her computer desk. (What was I doing?!) This surreal moment didn't last, because her voice came softly to me from the other side of the room. "You came." She was on her couch, panties lying on the floor in front of her, with legs parted slightly, and fingertips gently brushing somewhere underneath her skirt. Her voice was shaking slightly as she said "I...didn't know if you were going to come up or not. I saved a place for you...Sir." and she gestured to a place on the floor in front of her.

Her hands were trembling, and she said "I'm so...warm...Sir...will you taste me?"

If a person has craved the taste of cotton candy (for example) for so long, and finally catches the fragrance of it at the fair, his mouth literally begins to water as his memory of the taste of it's soft, sweet, warm sugar sweeps through his mind. At that moment, her fragrance supernaturally filled my senses from across the room, and I wanted nothing more than to drink her like a man starved of water.

I walked over, knelt in front of her, inhaled the scent of her in earnest, now...and moved forward to her garden of spices. The first taste was like a river of pure honey, and my cock responded by pressing full and hard against my zipper. I forced it back with everything I had, and only when I thought I had control of this did I move upward, and let the flat of my tongue lick her clit full and long. Her legs buckled, and her hands pulled my head forward as the gasp that came from her lips made my cock swell fully once again.

Between incoherent words of approval, and directions of *faster*...*slower*...*oh...Go-OD!* came from her lips, I concentrated fully on her clit, while inserting my tongue inside her to gather more of her juices whenever I could. Suddenly, her breath became erratic, and her heels dug themselves into my back just under my shoulder blades. Her hips jerked, and I knew her climax was coming, and coming soon. I cupped one hand under each side of her bottom, and now focused fully on her clit. I licked it fast, then slow, then fast, then slow...her breath was ragged, and all at once, her body tensed up with such force that I could feel her gluts flex under my palms. I changed tactics, and sucked her clit like a lollipop...her juices gave a gentle rain of sweetness and musk, as her body spasmed again and again. I hung on for all she would give me, and only when she cried out "No more...please...no more no more no more..." did I let her go.

My cock was straining for any kind of release, and when her eyes finally fluttered open, she looked at me with searching eyes and a slight nervous giggle.

She bit her lip once more, and slid off the couch to her knees. She reached up, cupped her hand under my balls through my jeans, and slowly began to undo my slacks. With each movement, she allowed her hand to caress the front, and my cock surged with each touch. She lowered my jeans, gently kissed the head of my cock through my boxers, and then lowered those as well. The head of my cock was so swollen and hard, as alike in shape as a small, red ripe plum.

She looked up into my eyes one last time, and said "Would you like me to take care of this, Sir? I promise not to lose a drop..."

She didn't wait for a response, and she wet her lips in preparation. I forced my eyes to stay locked onto hers. I would not be taken away from those beautiful eyes, not matter what.

"By the way.." she said "I'm bisexual, and I'm told I have a very talented tongue..."

She leaned forward, and her lips slipped over the head...