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I may get backlash with that title, but the thing is everyone opens up just because your a big mocho man that has a big dick doesn’t mean you don’t open up too.

I have said very minimal of my life tale to many, but for me when I go into detail giving explanations and discriptions of my past more an average tale that one would read in on book synopsis that is me opening up.

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When I’m comfortable enough to allow myself to shutter under a touch that reminds me of the same done in anger and hate once is me opening up. Teen girl first fuk large penis video.

The reason I’m a Dom is because I fear with every part of my being being controlled and to allow or even think about letting someone do something to me that was once done in anger and hate is the most trustworthy thing I could ever give someone.

Trust is a big part of a relationship and for me to trust someone it would mean first I would have to see if they are okay with sitting back and letting me tell my horrible tale consisting of pictures and going to locations to see where my tale is based in and at some point. I as a Dom, could be a sub for the right person.

Some dom’s could be a sub under certain circumstances for me I have yet to find the right one. Big sex video.

I’m more comfortable as a Dom. I am more comfortable when I have control

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I have many triggers to allow someone to hit all those triggers and know I’m okay and I don’t have to worry is the greatest gift I could ever give someone.

When some lucky lady gets that gift I hope she doesn’t squander it and realize what it means.

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On the outside Im a nice little boy playful and friendly. Inside there is a demon lurking deep inside me, waiting to show its ugly face. This monster has a hunger not for the innocent virgins like in the movies and books.

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This monster feeds on dirty little sluts, a nasty little freak is the only thing that can satisfy its hunger. He needs a bitch thatll suck his rock hard cock while he sucks on her pussy with his finger deep in her ass. A whore thats pussy can take a beating then, just before he releases, hes shoves that dick back in her mouth and makes her swallow his seed. A freaky little cunt that needs him to strangle her, while hes got her on all fours beeging him “harder daddy, harder”

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This monster has been trapped away for way too long for there are very few brave enough to tame him therefore I must keep him locked away deep inside.

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I asked for it. I wanted it. I suppressed it for years. I told myself it was abnormal and destructive, and occupied my mind in hopes it would just go away.

It didn’t. It lingered there waiting for the right time to take over. It’s patience was as strong as mine. But then … it’s patience was mine. It was my patience that caved at the same time as my patience prevailed. Pron sex video big tits.

It was a twelve foot fall that changed the game. A solid crack of my forehead striking the ice from a deadfall from twelve feet above. I had overcome other situations before. But not this one. The doctor that put in some twenty stitches had a hard time believing I didn’t loose consciousness. But it was more than anyone could imagine. It was an explosion at the nerve endings. The same nerves that delivered the sensation at lightning speeds throughout my body and to their receptors in my brain. Those receptors processed the electrical stimulation, and presented it for interpretation. Everything was normal, until that point. A reset, or restart, perhaps? A body and mind conditioned for expedience and productivity, now awashed in relaxation and contentment. A different view of the same ole same ole, making new what was old.

Fast forward six months … I was having a conversation with my betterhalf. During that conversation, I told her I needed something. I couldn’t expect her to understand, hell, I couldn’t understand myself, but then I asked her to hurt me.

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The conversation continued for a short time, then for a short time after that we went back to normal. Hours, not days. I think she was sitting on the floor playing with the cat when I took the stick from the window blind and dropped it to the floor in front of her. I was serious and I needed it. My ways of dealing with things had lost effectiveness. I was slipping and off my game. I wanted my reset.

She beat the shit out of me with that thing. Her arsenal has grown since, but the blind stick remains my favorite.. After she was finished, I remember thinking that any sane and rational being would ask “what were you thinking?” … but then I must not be sane and rational. I must be beyond that. I asked “why do I want more?”

I have haphazardly searched for an answer to that question, but I’m not sure I want to know. Does it matter at this point?

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Did you ever wonder how the classic heart symbol became connected with the concept of love and sex? After all, it looks nothing at all like a real heart with all of those ventricles and arteries spouting out all over the place. How did such a shape come about? What if I told you that it was ancient Romans and their love of fucking that gave us our modern day heart shape?

 

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If there was one thing that the ancient Romans were good at, other than conquering vast swaths of the planet, it was fucking. Those fuckers LOVED fucking. They loved it enough that most of their statues and ornaments were of giant dicks. A casual stroll through a typical Roman town would reveal dicks worn as necklaces, carved on walls for added decorative flair, and prominently featured as massive penis statues in the center of the town square.

For all of their love of sex, they were not too crazy about the end result of all that fucking…Romans didn’t want to deal with all of the babies that are the inevitable outcome of all of that mashing together of genitalia. In their determined hunt for effective birth control, they stumbled across a plant called silphium that proved to be incredibly handy for a multitude of ailments, including the prevention of babies.

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Silphium is believed to be related to either celery or the giant fennel plant and was used for coughs, sore throats, fevers and as a wart remover. None of that was as valuable as the preventing of the babies however, and soon this humble plant was worth its weight in silver-literally. The heart shaped seed pod of silphium found its way onto coins and was used throughout the realm, cementing the connection between a heart shape and love (aka sex)

The only catch was that silphium was a wild plant that could not be cultivated as a crop. It would only grow in the wild in a narrow coastal area in what is present day Libya. The crop became so valuable that smugglers would raid the coastline when the plant was in bloom. Coastlines are notoriously hard to guard and the plants started vanishing at a rapid rate. With restrictions like that, it wasn’t long before those horny Romans had fucked the poor plant right into extinction. Their love of boning was such that the last reported sighting of a silphium plant was in the second or third century BCE.

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The only thing left behind after all that fucking was some coins bearing the heart shaped seed pod of this talented plant. A shape that have become so integrated into our culture that its origins became lost in the mists of time. So this year, when you give your sweetie a Valentine’s Day box of chocolates, know that that shape came about from some long dead Roman’s love of baby free fucking. Happy Valentine’s Day to all and may it be blessedly baby free! (unless you are aiming for that sort of thing)

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He awoke early, lifted the cover from his sleeping WhoreWife, and saw to his delight small drops of his juices slowly seeping out.
He made coffee, two large jugs, one for her, one for him, he showered, shaved dressed the gathered all the camera chips and devices, with his lap top and coffee and went of to the beach, where he up loaded them all, and sent them of to his cloud.
Then he watched the sunrise.
Then at breakfast he was overwhelmed, so many people all rushing around, so most of the guests are leaving, outside convoys of coaches were preparing to take them all to the airport. It would be a nice quite week he thought. He waited then found a quite corner, ate quickly, went back to the beach and fell back asleep on a lounger.

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His wife showed up at lunchtime at the beach bar, looking really worse for wear,and not in the best of moods. Menstruation and Menopause the curse of middle aged women. She spent the rest of the day in the fitness rooms.

After lunch , he remained on the beach , waiting for his two little whores to visit.
He took them for a walk along the beach to a few secluded sand dunes, and spent the rest of the afternoon , larking about and taking photos, lots of photos

 

My Kinky Virginity, part 2

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I am about to begin a new and interesting point in my life. For the first time in more than a decade I am moving forward and choosing a partner. It’s funny, because it’s kink it feels like I’m loosing a new kind of virginity and for the first time I am reevaluating my decision. I have never questioned my first choice, but now I am not even considering making a similar one and it’s making me wonder. I know that now I need to know and trust my partner. I need them to have similar tastes to me, share my kink and the truth is, I have to feel safe with this man. He’s going to do some wonderfully twisted things with me, many of them without me being able to tell him in the moment it’s what I want. So I need him to know, I need him to be on the same page as me.

The first time, it was pretty basic, some getting to know you that completely excluded any discussion of sex, some major flirting, a few kisses over a few days and then in the moment some heavy petting, some oral and then sex. This time it has to be more. I need him to know that if I’m on top chasing it but can’t let go that if he spanks my ass or wraps his fingers around my neck it’ll send me over the edge with fireworks. That I love to talk dirty and hear him reciprocate, but if he degrades me I’m completely out of the moment wondering why he thinks such terrible things about me.

These are pretty small things but they are part of the larger picture. If I’m going to give control of my body over to someone, I need to know they have my best interest at heart. But in the same breath, I’m walking out of a 12 year relationship and have zero desire to walk into another. This is an incredibly fine line to walk.
It’s made me think about my first time and why I made the decision I did then and how it will affect the one I’m making now. It’s making me remember that I need to trust myself, my instincts and that nobody knows me and my needs as well as I do. Remembering that summer helps me remember that I’ve got this, it gives me confidence that I’ll make the best decision for myself regardless if it’s one that is popular or commonly held as normal. I didn’t loose my first virginity conventionally, why would I think the kinky one would be any different?

Read “My Kinky Virginity”, part 1

My Kinky Virginity, part 1

kinky virginity

When I was 18 I decided it was time, I was ready to lose my virginity, but I knew the on again off agin friend with benefits I’d been messing around with was not the one. I already liked him too much and if he was my first I’d be stuck, I’d never be able to walk away. He already had too many firsts. First time I was naked with a man, first dick I ever saw, touched, sucked; first person to touch, see or lick my pussy. Hell he was even with me the first time I got high. I was not giving him my virginity.

I’d been sexually active for a couple years, I just didn’t cross that line. I dated some sweet boys who never got far, but that fwb, I just couldn’t resist him. Maybe it’s because most of those other boys chased me and this one held me at arms length or maybe it’s because I knew that if I got too close to him I’d be sunk.

See, my dad was an avid believer that we, my brother and i, were too young to get into serious relationships that we should date a lot of people, spend time with friends and focus on having fun. Long term or serious relationships were strongly discouraged.

So I was 18, had never been in a serious relationship and was ready to join the club, give up my card. So, we went on vacation that summer and I met a boy, he and a few of his friends came each of the first three days to see me on the beach. Invited my brother and I to come ride jet skis at their place on the bay, then to a nice dinner, and our last night they were going to throw a party and we were invited. He was as good of a choice as any, he was close enough to my age and incredibly sexy and absolutely what I knew my type to be. So, It happened. It was a great time and a good memory. A sweet guy in a beautiful place and it was before cell phones and social media so that was it, we never saw or spoke to one another again.

Is it strange that I’ve never once regretted it? Because I don’t, I never have and I still to this day believe it was the right decision for me.

Go to part 2