What a month - T

And then there is T. A sadist - an intelligent, thoughtful father of 2 who is a sadist. We chat online, on the phone and on text. He's positive and encouraging and downright gorgeous in his photographs. And I was supposed to meet him on December 3rd but he couldn't get away from work and I was so sad.

And then he turned up. At my new house. Poinsettia in hand. Looking gorgeous and tired. And I was all "just got baby to bed, one bottle of beer under my belt" flustered. Hair scraped back, jeans. And all he kept saying was "it's perfect" and "you're lovely". so we had a glass of wine and I just wanted to touch him and to hold his hand and we kissed and it was all so gentle and mind blowingly right. And he stroked my arms and tits and face and held me. He smells lovely.

He started using his nails on my neck and arms (which I love) and I turned over so he could have access to my back and he gouged my skin with his nails and it burned and it hurt like hell but I didn't want him to stop because I wanted him to realise how much I wanted him and I wanted him to be proud of me. And he went on and on scratching at my skin and my shoulders burned with so much fire but still I lay there. Then he massaged me - hard, digging into my muscles. And he pinched and grabbed my nipples and thrust his hand in my dripping pussy (which I could smell and feel was so wet) and I wanted to come but part of me held back because I felt like I couldn't. And then he kissed me, held me and left. And I was high.

Afterwards he texted:

Gorgeous. All gorgeous xxxxx

And a couple of hours later he e-mailed
In, safe and still smiling like a little boy. That was so beautiful xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

And I replied
I am still smiling now! That was honestly such a buzz - for you just
> to turn up unannounced, for us to click like that, for me to relax
> enough to let you do that and to want to do that and to enjoy doing
> that for you. Thank you so much.
>
> xxx

And his response:
I'm still buzzing too. I want more..........xx

And a text that day:
I can still smell you. Mmm....x

And my back is covered in scratches which hurt every time I go in the shower but which seek to remind me of him. And I keep looking at them. Almost the first manifestation of what I am finding out about myself. Coupled with my bruised arse from Hades I am turning into a wanton slut. AND I LOVE IT