There is a funny story about me writing this during class, but I’m too tired to type it. So you guys get the cut’n’paste version of what I did in class.

Sweat, wet, wet, red heat… I hear this in my head over and over again. I feel my ass… it is certainly red and I still feel heat from it. Wet… well… there are parts of me that are still wet.

His pants reflect just how wet I was. We debated whose fault it was. Was it mine for grinding so hard against his leg? For being that wet? Or was it his fault because he chose to shove his leg between mine?

Who knows. Who cares. I’m just happy with the memory.

He hurt me. Over and over. He slapped my ass, my thighs. He grabbed at the flesh of my leg, my breast. He touched me gently on my face. I gazed up. I could see his face. I could see his happiness about sharing the experience with me. It is very rare that someone can hurt another and look so happy and delighted while not looking frightening. This was a quiet joy.

Negotiating mid-scene… avoid my right leg entirely because I have to bare it to someone tomorrow for examination and she doesn’t want to see that. This is truly “advanced” play because yes… we can actually negotiate mid-scene. I don’t care if it is taboo. “I don’t know if it is bad when you get to crying.” It isn’t bad or good. It just is. If you want to push past it, you can. If you want to make me really sob it is ok. If you want to back off I understand. I do know why you wouldn’t want to push me hard. But I secretly would like you to push. I won’t ask you to though. That doesn’t seem fair.

I HATE STING. Now that we have that out of the way, let me tell you: I hate sting. If you want to spank me and make it stingy…. I’ll try to take it if you want me to. Tell me to take it. I will. I don’t have to like it.

You say I am not submissive. What am I then? Am I just a greedy masochist? Yes, I have a spot I want you to touch. But you don’t have to. I won’t be upset. Well, I will make noise and lift my hips and encourage you because I am a slut, but you still don’t have to indulge me. You might like it though.

Mmmm you told me to again. You have gotten the hang of me asking permission really fast. Now you are pushing to hear it. You know exactly how long to deny me. You know this game. Oh Oh OH! Please! Mmmmm thank you.

Sandwiched between conversations. The conversations were not usually directly sexual, and yet they were highly sexy. You seduced my mind. You know how to bring up the things I want to talk about but am afraid to mention. You are crawling in my brain. That is sexy. What I think about when I masturbate is ok? Are you sure? I still feel bad. Bad. Bad girl. You hinted that you are going to call me bad girl. You want to turn that around. I’m really scared. But I trust you. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, I trust you. I don’t know why.

Do you actually want to crawl inside my head? No. You aren’t going to rescue me. But somehow it seems like you will show me how to rescue myself.

This isn’t anyone that anyone thinks it is. Ha!