She had a hunger. It burned and coiled through her body, like the fabled snake. It curled in her belly, and stretched along her spine. She lusted.
Poring over online catalogs for sex toys didn’t help that hunger abate, not by a long shot. She was on sexual overdrive, that was for sure. And she needed an outlet way better than the battery operated boyfriend that lay in the box next to her bed.
Her computer was tabbed to three websites. The sex toy site was over that of that blog she liked…the one with all the Xplicit content. Well, all the good sex blogs had that. This one had pictures. Stories. Toy reviews. It was something that she only allowed herself to do on Friday nights. The third tab was that dating site for submissives.
She wasn’t sure she was one.
She pondered that for a while. The thought of someone …hitting her. It should be anathema. She clicked open another tab and found that blog with all the bondage on it. Hitting the link in the sidebar, she found the website with all those free movie clips.
Gods. That …Dominant…was hitting the tiny blonde with the giant jugs ….with a whip.
Who did that?
Who “submitted” to that?
And why were her panties soaked? Horrible! Heinous. Hateful. Just …no. That wasn’t her at all.
But every date she’d had in weeks had bored her to tears.
She clicked back to the website for submissives. She opened her profile. Eleven hits.
She’d posted her profile 10 minutes ago.
Somehow she felt like a tasty snack thrown into the shark tank. She read the offerings. OH, right. Like she wanted to jump into this and be branded by GuyTop402.
“Right” she said aloud. “Yeah, I wanna wear your mark on my ass forever and I’ve not even figured out if I am a submissive or not. Did you even *read* my profile you dumbass?”
She growled at the mean looking face on her monitor. Maybe this meant this “lifestyle” wasn’t for her after all. Her throbbing clit told another tale. She clicked through guys 2-5, female top 6, and read number 7. He was 18 years her junior. That just seemed wrong. And he liked to be called Daddy?
“Let’s get serious Daddy,” she spoke to the clean-faced youth’s picture. “I was born way before you. I’d start laughing hysterically if I had to call you Daddy. Babyface, sure. But daddy? No way, no how.”
With a sigh, she clicked off the screen. Another profile popped up. She blinked. Shit, she hated when her cursor did that, slid down the monitor from where she meant to click. She needed to get that fi…whoa.
She blinked, leaned closer to the monitor.
“Your new at this, I see. Curious. Curious is good, but you need to be safe. This isn’t the best place to meet a new partner you know. Lot of guys (and gals) looking for fresh meat to scratch an itch. I hope you’ll take time to sift through the drek, and perhaps write back to me. We can talk offline, then see if that clicks, maybe talk. I will ask you to be safe as you sift through options, okay? This isn’t an easy place for newbies. Sincerely, Dom Bill.”
She re-read it. There was nothing overly sexual. Nothing demanding. Just a warning to take care. Like maybe he thought of her as a person and not just a grouping of sex-holes?
She took a deep breath, feeling her heart pounding. For all she knew, he didn’t even live near her. Several of the responders were from the other side of the country, for gosh sakes. Nonetheless, she copied his email address and dashed off a quick email.
“Dear Dom Bill,
Thank you for the warning. I will be very careful. Was that a line meant to get my attention?
Uncertain in New London”
Jittery, she rose from the computer. A shower would help. Yet standing under the spray, she shivered. She’d taken a step. She was scared. Nervous. And wet. NOT from the shower spray. She felt between her thighs, fingering her clit, her pussy lips. There was a slickness there not borne of water, but of a deep-seated hunger. Leaning into the corner, she fucked her pussy fast, feeling her knees melting as her orgasm cascaded through her. Eyes shut, gasping, she held there a moment, then quickly lathered up.
She wondered if Dom Bill had responded.