Tik-Tok fun in my bedroom
When you're in the mod for sex and there is no one around, you masturbate. Girls and boys alike, and if they deny the fact, then they are either liars or turn out to be perverts, suppression of sexual desires, is damaging in the long run.
For this reason too, suppression of the truth of our youthful experiences, is akin to burying your head in the sand, and if anything, the suppression is just an exercise of keeping the lid upon it. I am of course talking about that most deepest of desires, i****t.
It's not really something you read about, because, again, it's supressed, so we can assume it's a sexual awakening from within, a primal urge to connect with another who excites you, down there, between your legs.
We played and ran as c***dren, as naked as the day we were born, never questioning our differences, why I had a hole where my brother had a cock. We slept in the same bed, drawing comfort from our different shapes, that seemed to fit into each other when we 'Spooned', in a sleeping position for warmth and comfort.
Feeling my older brother press against my girlish buttocks was a comforting feeling, not a sexual one, and awakening early mornings, with him firmly between my thighs, was the dawning of my own sexuality, and as he slept soundly, with his warm breath on my back between my shoulder blades, I would reach down and touch his spongy cock and press it against my upper vagina, and squeeze him with my thighs, until he cummed, his warm semen shooting up my forearm and landing on my bare thighs.
I learned very quickly to leave a toilet roll on the chair beside my bed, and clean the mess, before he stirred, by then his penis was drained and flaccid and had dropped and broke our connection, on such mornings he was loving and laughing of his little sister, who's dirty little secret was kept from him, as I longed one day to insert him inside me, yes this was the i****t that men talk about but never admit too, being fucked by their sisters, as is always the case, otherwise, it's clearly ****.
I was eight when I used to play in our communal back green. My brother would kick a football against the brick washhouses wall, while I played under the windows of the lower flats of the building. It was there one day a man came to his window, completely naked and stood there looking down at me looking up at him. He as an old man, but I never saw that, I saw his erection, which he stroked with enthusiasm for me, and I smiled back in appreciation, in wonderment and then in awe, as his cum was ejaculated onto the glass pane and ran down it, as he pointed to his cock and then me, as if emphasizing, he wanted me to have it.
I tell you this factual truth because I have always wondered why I kept this secret to myself, I instinctively knew what he was doing was considered bad, and yet only eight years of age. I played this on numerous times with the old man, and would sit out of sight of my brother, showing myself to the man, by opening my legs without my panties and touching myself, and noting how quickly he cummed when I did that.
My open acceptance of sexual imagery encouraged men to approach me. I knew what came out the ends of their dicks, I had been wiping it up since aged eight, and watched it being ejaculated onto window panes as I spread my own secret lips, to show the true pink of my virgin pussy to encourage them to cum for me.
As a fifteen year old, the line of potential suiters to puncture my hymen, stretched around the block, and I even fantasized if I started, I would still be getting fucked 24 hours later. Sorry if that sounds far fetched, but it's how girls think, not the prince charming slaying the bad dragon to capture the fair maidens heart and live happily ever after, better having my clothes ripped off and experiencing a good old fashioned gang bang, with every hole stuffed simultaneously and semen pouring from every orifice.
My uncle offered to set me up with a computer for my bedroom. I was f******n and instinctively knew why he was doing it. He anted me to be online where all my sexual, and his sexual fantasies would be realised. It was a very powerful machine, and even the internet provider was paid highly to ensure my video connections were smooth, uncle paying those monthly bills.
I asked him why, and he used some lame excuse about schoolwork, until I forced the truth, "Do you want to chat with me via Skype or some other, more salacious network, as I go to bed Uncle"?
His face went straight, as if I had just blown his cover and he had wasted thousands of pounds on machinery in the hope that it would help him to peer into my dark soul.
If the truth be known, as it is to those men who catch and arrest the online network of sexual interactions between men and girls, who don't even have a pubic hair to flash at them, these stories and facts never see the light of day, for fear that most men knowing their wildest dreams can be realised, are shrouded and hidden from view, and in a perverse way, limiting our interactions with only those in the know.
I look into my audience, they see my face, and innocence, not lean and gaunt with age and time, but cherub and c***dlike, under which my body is in flux, moving from a tomboyish stage into a womanlike total pleasure zone from our mouths to our naked feet and painted toes, every aspect of our bodies capable of releasing men's semen in spurts of orgasmic pleasure, but with another part rarely mentioned, but highly prised, our age, just after our twelfth birthdays, where everything about us is highly desirable and forbidden, this is why each night I have an average 2000 men clamouring for private viewings, even for me to say, "Cock", can raise $300 in minutes.
My long blond hair was deliberately d****d over my tiny bralette, what lay beneath the tightness was worth more than their perceived weight in gold, and when removed for a price, my audience wanked in unison before my eyes, seeing my pink nipples barely pushing away to form my future breast, was an insight to nature herself developing a female c***d into a woman, and I knew that and milked every cock in front of me, for the $50 admission fee.
"You men are paying my bills", I told them, sucking my candy lollipop to emphasize my youth, and then inserting my finger into my moist candy coated lips and sucking on it as if every mans cock had got inside past my baby teeth, making sure my pink tongue was visibly toying with my lips and finger, leaving them in no doubt of my ability to give a good blow job, if they paid the right piece.
"I'm 71 and you owe me one" shouted an old regular, and I immediately recognised him, "I know" I purred back to him for all to see, "tonight we can have a freebie", a freebie meaning when I masturbated myself to a lucky watching few, making myself orgasm and letting them watch me succumb and sometimes make promises of a meet, just to spur on my own release.
The regulars knew this and the flood of requests started, and the money flowed with out restraint, they wanted me, and had my audience been live, I would have been torn apart and ****d no end. My computer hummed as all the CPU threads and GPU purred with 24K video showing every pore and droplet of candy sweet liquid pouring from my pussy live, for as long as the authorities did not catch me, I could rake in $40,000 a month, and go somewhere to meet one, who would then talk about it the following weekend, driving my audience wild knowing the lottery of pulling me for real sex somewhere remote, was both real and factual.
Every part of my body has a value, I am seen all over the world, sitting in my hidden IP Address, bedroom, but the language of sexual needs is the same for Chinees as for Africans, and mostly white men desperately seeking their own fetish, an "Outfit check", allows the men to see every aspect of my girlish body, a "Pedicure check", allows me to caress my toes and insert my finger between them and move it in and out, and finish with a spurt of white lotion to massage in, I think you know what that really means, "Touch the ceiling", always has my small b**sts popping out, if I wear a crop top, and my thin waist and tummy muscles show the muscular channels they imagine their semen running down if they could ejaculate on to me.
Even my tongue and pierced belly button, even laughingly, "Oh, there is a spider on your wall", would be met with a shriek and I would turn to look, making sure my tiny butt could be used to make some cum, and all these requests and actions paid for with tokens, like ice-cream, lollipops, flowers, hearts, which are later converted to hard earned cash. Actual real money transfers, are done at parks and out of town meetings, in the back of a car or a wooden table, or a private party, where larger groups gang bang me.
Going way back to the beginning a I stood there in front of my uncles crestfallen face, waiting for him to answer my question, I undid my blouse, button by button, and opened it up to reveal my swollen nipples, I watched as his mouth opened and fell, his breathing became laboured, was the poor man about to have a heart attack, if so, he was a dead man waiting, I undid my pants and pushed them down to my ankles and slipped them off, straightening up to reveal my naked pussy, just an open blouse an white woollen ankle socks, he sat rigid in body and cock, a I straddled him and released his erection, I think I came twice before he did, and I had not even turned on my new computer.
For this reason too, suppression of the truth of our youthful experiences, is akin to burying your head in the sand, and if anything, the suppression is just an exercise of keeping the lid upon it. I am of course talking about that most deepest of desires, i****t.
It's not really something you read about, because, again, it's supressed, so we can assume it's a sexual awakening from within, a primal urge to connect with another who excites you, down there, between your legs.
We played and ran as c***dren, as naked as the day we were born, never questioning our differences, why I had a hole where my brother had a cock. We slept in the same bed, drawing comfort from our different shapes, that seemed to fit into each other when we 'Spooned', in a sleeping position for warmth and comfort.
Feeling my older brother press against my girlish buttocks was a comforting feeling, not a sexual one, and awakening early mornings, with him firmly between my thighs, was the dawning of my own sexuality, and as he slept soundly, with his warm breath on my back between my shoulder blades, I would reach down and touch his spongy cock and press it against my upper vagina, and squeeze him with my thighs, until he cummed, his warm semen shooting up my forearm and landing on my bare thighs.
I learned very quickly to leave a toilet roll on the chair beside my bed, and clean the mess, before he stirred, by then his penis was drained and flaccid and had dropped and broke our connection, on such mornings he was loving and laughing of his little sister, who's dirty little secret was kept from him, as I longed one day to insert him inside me, yes this was the i****t that men talk about but never admit too, being fucked by their sisters, as is always the case, otherwise, it's clearly ****.
I was eight when I used to play in our communal back green. My brother would kick a football against the brick washhouses wall, while I played under the windows of the lower flats of the building. It was there one day a man came to his window, completely naked and stood there looking down at me looking up at him. He as an old man, but I never saw that, I saw his erection, which he stroked with enthusiasm for me, and I smiled back in appreciation, in wonderment and then in awe, as his cum was ejaculated onto the glass pane and ran down it, as he pointed to his cock and then me, as if emphasizing, he wanted me to have it.
I tell you this factual truth because I have always wondered why I kept this secret to myself, I instinctively knew what he was doing was considered bad, and yet only eight years of age. I played this on numerous times with the old man, and would sit out of sight of my brother, showing myself to the man, by opening my legs without my panties and touching myself, and noting how quickly he cummed when I did that.
My open acceptance of sexual imagery encouraged men to approach me. I knew what came out the ends of their dicks, I had been wiping it up since aged eight, and watched it being ejaculated onto window panes as I spread my own secret lips, to show the true pink of my virgin pussy to encourage them to cum for me.
As a fifteen year old, the line of potential suiters to puncture my hymen, stretched around the block, and I even fantasized if I started, I would still be getting fucked 24 hours later. Sorry if that sounds far fetched, but it's how girls think, not the prince charming slaying the bad dragon to capture the fair maidens heart and live happily ever after, better having my clothes ripped off and experiencing a good old fashioned gang bang, with every hole stuffed simultaneously and semen pouring from every orifice.
My uncle offered to set me up with a computer for my bedroom. I was f******n and instinctively knew why he was doing it. He anted me to be online where all my sexual, and his sexual fantasies would be realised. It was a very powerful machine, and even the internet provider was paid highly to ensure my video connections were smooth, uncle paying those monthly bills.
I asked him why, and he used some lame excuse about schoolwork, until I forced the truth, "Do you want to chat with me via Skype or some other, more salacious network, as I go to bed Uncle"?
His face went straight, as if I had just blown his cover and he had wasted thousands of pounds on machinery in the hope that it would help him to peer into my dark soul.
If the truth be known, as it is to those men who catch and arrest the online network of sexual interactions between men and girls, who don't even have a pubic hair to flash at them, these stories and facts never see the light of day, for fear that most men knowing their wildest dreams can be realised, are shrouded and hidden from view, and in a perverse way, limiting our interactions with only those in the know.
I look into my audience, they see my face, and innocence, not lean and gaunt with age and time, but cherub and c***dlike, under which my body is in flux, moving from a tomboyish stage into a womanlike total pleasure zone from our mouths to our naked feet and painted toes, every aspect of our bodies capable of releasing men's semen in spurts of orgasmic pleasure, but with another part rarely mentioned, but highly prised, our age, just after our twelfth birthdays, where everything about us is highly desirable and forbidden, this is why each night I have an average 2000 men clamouring for private viewings, even for me to say, "Cock", can raise $300 in minutes.
My long blond hair was deliberately d****d over my tiny bralette, what lay beneath the tightness was worth more than their perceived weight in gold, and when removed for a price, my audience wanked in unison before my eyes, seeing my pink nipples barely pushing away to form my future breast, was an insight to nature herself developing a female c***d into a woman, and I knew that and milked every cock in front of me, for the $50 admission fee.
"You men are paying my bills", I told them, sucking my candy lollipop to emphasize my youth, and then inserting my finger into my moist candy coated lips and sucking on it as if every mans cock had got inside past my baby teeth, making sure my pink tongue was visibly toying with my lips and finger, leaving them in no doubt of my ability to give a good blow job, if they paid the right piece.
"I'm 71 and you owe me one" shouted an old regular, and I immediately recognised him, "I know" I purred back to him for all to see, "tonight we can have a freebie", a freebie meaning when I masturbated myself to a lucky watching few, making myself orgasm and letting them watch me succumb and sometimes make promises of a meet, just to spur on my own release.
The regulars knew this and the flood of requests started, and the money flowed with out restraint, they wanted me, and had my audience been live, I would have been torn apart and ****d no end. My computer hummed as all the CPU threads and GPU purred with 24K video showing every pore and droplet of candy sweet liquid pouring from my pussy live, for as long as the authorities did not catch me, I could rake in $40,000 a month, and go somewhere to meet one, who would then talk about it the following weekend, driving my audience wild knowing the lottery of pulling me for real sex somewhere remote, was both real and factual.
Every part of my body has a value, I am seen all over the world, sitting in my hidden IP Address, bedroom, but the language of sexual needs is the same for Chinees as for Africans, and mostly white men desperately seeking their own fetish, an "Outfit check", allows the men to see every aspect of my girlish body, a "Pedicure check", allows me to caress my toes and insert my finger between them and move it in and out, and finish with a spurt of white lotion to massage in, I think you know what that really means, "Touch the ceiling", always has my small b**sts popping out, if I wear a crop top, and my thin waist and tummy muscles show the muscular channels they imagine their semen running down if they could ejaculate on to me.
Even my tongue and pierced belly button, even laughingly, "Oh, there is a spider on your wall", would be met with a shriek and I would turn to look, making sure my tiny butt could be used to make some cum, and all these requests and actions paid for with tokens, like ice-cream, lollipops, flowers, hearts, which are later converted to hard earned cash. Actual real money transfers, are done at parks and out of town meetings, in the back of a car or a wooden table, or a private party, where larger groups gang bang me.
Going way back to the beginning a I stood there in front of my uncles crestfallen face, waiting for him to answer my question, I undid my blouse, button by button, and opened it up to reveal my swollen nipples, I watched as his mouth opened and fell, his breathing became laboured, was the poor man about to have a heart attack, if so, he was a dead man waiting, I undid my pants and pushed them down to my ankles and slipped them off, straightening up to reveal my naked pussy, just an open blouse an white woollen ankle socks, he sat rigid in body and cock, a I straddled him and released his erection, I think I came twice before he did, and I had not even turned on my new computer.
2 years ago
These days it is so restrictive writing here, they seem to ban words that are normal on every other website because it is a lazy for of mas censorship. Are there other places where you post?