Sunday, April 19, 2009

The Greek Doctor's Iranian Friend

In all my years of adventure, I have never walked into a man's house for sex
without knowing him for a couple hours at least
or without seeing even a picture of him.
This night was bound to be a disaster so I kept my expectations low.
Perhaps a pepper spray, too?

* * * * * *

The Greek Doctor has been busy since he came back from vacationing in Greece over the Christmas and New Year holidays. Since January, I have only had sex with him once before I settled into my comfortable, wonderful life as Ed's mistress.

On Friday, he finally crossed my mind and I decided it can't hurt to fuck him again. We haven't seen each other for months so he should be missing some hot cunny-licking action with me. He was the doctor I taught how to please me with his mouth and tongue and he learned quite quickly, much to my happy surprise.

I need sex. That was the text message I sent him while I was hanging out with my girl friends on Friday afternoon.

I'm doing good. Thank you for asking, was his reply to my message.

So I asked him if he was free that night to spend a couple hours with me. Unfortunately, he had to work until dawn.

Would you like to try my friend? He offered instead. He's 30 so not too old for you. But nice guy. Clean. Iranian med student.

I thought about fucking someone I have never met nor seen a picture of. I then remembered my weirdly funny experience with another Iranian doctor who had a massive cock but who wouldn't even touch my pussy. Is he cute? Can you promise me he won't want to cuddle and talk after sex? Coz that will be weird. And tell him I like my cunt licked.

I can tell him now. He's here.
The Greek Doctor and I are indeed good friends. He's volunteering his male friends to have sex with me. I can't thank him enough. Moments later, he sent me the Iranian's number and I couldn't resist calling him just to check if he speaks English.

Luckily, he spoke better English than the Greek Doctor. The first question I asked him was if he is free to fuck me that night. He laughed a bit nervously and said he will call me when he's ready. Great, I thought. My Friday night won't have to be so boring. I told him to check out my profile online if he wants to see how I look first before agreeing to fuck me but he said the Greek Doctor assured him that he need not worry about looks. We agreed to meet at his condo. I will show up and we will have sex and then I will leave. Simple. Quick.Covert.

For a moment, I re-evaluated the situation I was in. What if this guy was so ugly and when I refuse to have sex with him, he will grab me by the neck with his huge Iranian hands and rape me..without a condom. I shivered at the thought. In all my years of adventure, I have never walked into a man's house for sex without knowing him for a couple hours at least or without seeing even a picture of him. This night was bound to be a disaster so I kept my expectations low. Perhaps a pepper spray, too?

The elevator ride to the 24th floor took ages. It seemed to stop in all floors and I was left with a lot of time to rethink the whole plan. When I rang the doorbell to his condo unit, I stepped away from the door, planning to walk away or even run the moment I see him and decide he doesn't suit my taste.

But what I saw surprised me. As far as physical appearances were concerned, the Greek Doctor had done his research right and I might have to thank him profusely when this night is over. The Iranian was tall, about six feet three and a total catch. His gorgeous eyes were dark and seductive and his lips looked juicy enough to eat. We stood looking at each other, smiling at each other for just a few seconds and before I had a chance to introduce myself, he grabbed me by the waist and kissed me on the lips, pulling me inside his condo as he did so and closed the door behind us.

So much for conversation, I thought happily.

"Call me Amir", he whispered to me in between kisses.

"Call me anything", I told him, laughing.

He lifted me up and carried me to his room, placed me on his bed and started to undress. His cock was hard and ready but I wasn't. Standing there, he started rubbing his cock and while he did this, I wondered why his dick was small for a very big man. His cock was almost abnormal to Iranians, it seemed to me. He told me to take my clothes off but I didn't move. Seeing that I wasn't gonna do as he said, he stopped playing with his cock and knelt in front of me. He leaned in to kiss me and it was at that point that I blurted out nervously:

"Stop....I have a boyfriend...and he'll be angry that I'm going to have sex with you...without telling him..Um, can I call him first?"

That definitely ruined the mood for him, though his cock didn't go limp. We stared at each other and I couldn't bring myself to grab my bag and get my phone and call Ed to tell him that I am going to fuck someone else.

I hesitated, thought about how much I loved Ed and how wonderfully perfect sex with him always is. There was no doubt that while this Iranian is humping me, my thoughts will be with Ed and sex with this dude will be nothing but mediocre.

"I should go..." I told him. I composed myself, ran my fingers through my hair and fixed my disheveled clothing. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry", I said, without any remorse.

"It's okay. I'll tell the Greek Doctor we had awesome sex if he asks...if that's okay with you", he smiled, a bit embarrassed.

I could only be thankful the Iranian did not decide to force the issue because I might change my mind and just have sex with him. "Tell him you made me cum many times. I will tell the Greek Doctor the same thing."

He walked me to the door and asked if there will be a next time, when I'm in the mood and when I have asked permission from my boyfriend before hand. I said yes, but that was a lie.

* * * * * *

Lying in bed that night, I wondered if it was worth it giving up sex with the Iranian for another night wondering what my lover is doing at home. I wanted to call Ed, tell him how much I loved him...but I couldn't, I didn't want to. The wife might pick up the phone...

It was late. I was tired and sleepy, my pussy still wet. I fell asleep, confused about how I had allowed Ed to torture me this way, torture me with love for him, knowing in the end, I will never own him.

But somehow, I knew deep in my heart it will be worth waiting for a few days more to see Ed again and make wonderfully perfect love to him.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Finding Mr. Big

I’ve never put much thought into my friendship with Ken. He is the guy who does my plumbing, the one I call on if my light bulbs needed replacement or if I needed help with airconditioning and heavy lifting. He is the one man I am most comfortable with. He’s the kind of friend who bangs at your door at dawn and it’s not for booty call. He just really needs a place to stay after getting so drunk.

When he’s at my apartment, I can walk around in my underwear and I won’t even catch him staring. He’s the kind of friend who gives you advice about men and tells you if your perfume stings the nostrils. He would even go shopping with me and he won’t excuse himself to go someplace while I choose lingerie. He’d contribute to the whole shopping process and bear with me. In the absence of a full time boyfriend who’d date me on a weekend, he was always the substitute. I always thought he was either gay or just treated me like a little sister. He is, after all, eight years older than me and we’ve known each other for four years and have been very good friends only. He never made advances and at one point, I wondered if he never found me attractive.

Today, he showed up at my apartment. When I opened the door, he looked so happy and his eyes were shining and I knew instantly he had some good news for me. I instinctively embraced him and asked him what was up. He held me for a little while longer and said I will be so happy for him.

He finally got the girl he had been courting for several months. I’ve challenged him to give up because the lady just won’t budge but he told me he really likes this girl. Get laid or find another girl, I keep telling him. Don’t waste your time on that one girl. But he seemed so sure about this particular lady.

We’ve had countless conversations about this girl and I’ve given him loads of advice on how to make her fall for him so I suppose some of those worked because here he is now, like a happy little puppy, telling me how she finally said yes to him. Long courtships are, it seems, non-existent in my world so I didn’t think Ken would endure six months of bullshit from this lady.

Are you gonna cheat on her? I teased him.

Wow, the questions you ask, lady! Why? Is that what a man who courted this girl for six months gonna do the day after she said yes to him?

I’m just asking. I retorted. So two weeks ago, I guy I know just out of the blue sends me a message on Yahoo and tells me he now has a real girlfriend. So I asked him the same question and he said he’s not sure. If he will be loyal, I mean. Why is that? The answer is only yes or no.

I don’t know, Trin. I really don’t.

If you were my boyfriend, would you be loyal to me?

Hell, yeah! But will you?

Um, I really don’t know, Ken.

See, you sound like that guy.

I just bit my lip.

You'll find your Mr. Big, kid, Ken said, but it'll probably take 10, maybe 15 years, before you do. We used to watch Sex and the City on DVD and he always told me I'd find the guy for me, like Carrie did when she found Mr. Big.

He gave me a peck on the cheek and left. And we left it at that. I’m just happy for Ken. He finally has the girl of his dreams, or so he tells me. I feel jealous because he won’t be able to spend time with me whenever I need him. Of course, the girlfriend will be the priority. Secretly, I wished I was this girl he pursued for six months just to know how that would feel, to know what it would be like to be someone’s dream girl.

But, anyway. Congratulations buddy.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Sweet Vengeance

I knew I was gonna hit two birds with one stone with this sexual act.

One, I had my revenge on Ed.

And two, Chris will not cum tonight.
* * * * * *

I should have spent the Holy Week holiday doing something religious or spiritual. When one doesn't have family or friends nearby to keep one company during long holidays such as this, one is ultimately forced to confront demons, demons that for me are loneliness and lust. Somewhere in the metropolis is another person who feels just as lonely as I am, lonely enough to become desperate to contact anyone--even the girl he hurt just a couple months ago. That girl was me.

My apartment was eerily quiet and the air was thick. I prepared to go to bed at 11 pm as my lover has already sent me a message that he will be going to sleep. Like a good mistress, I sent a message back saying Good night. Somehow, my sleeping patterns have become similar to his. I am awake when he is and asleep when he says he is. I think subconsciously, I just rearranged my life to fit his.

My phone rang at half-past midnight. It was an anonymous caller and while I prefer not to pick up calls from unregistered numbers, I gingerly reached out for my phone on top of the nightstand, half-awake, cursing under my breath.

"Who are you? What do you want?" I mumbled.

Trin...It took only second for me to search the archives of my memory and match the voice to a face and a name.

I bolted upright, instantly fully awake. It was the voice I am all too familiar with. Suddenly, I felt giddy with anticipation on being able to play out the conversation I have rehearsed countless times in front of the mirror. It was my American Doctor. I broke up with him -in style- in February and since then I have never heard from him again. Before I can say the script that I have memorized by heart, he threw me completely off guard by saying I'm sorry for what happened to us....

The cynic that is me just laughed and told him this wasn't how I imagined him apologizing to me. He asked me how I imagined it. "On your knees, licking my cunt with tears in your eyes". I laughed at my own joke. It was, after all, just meant to be a joke. There is no redemption for him as far as I'm concerned.

"Let me in and I'll do as you want."

He was standing outside my door all along. When I opened it and saw him again for the first time in so many weeks, my initial reaction surprised me and the violence with which I welcomed him was unprecedented.

I didn't know I can hit someone that hard. My palm stung after slapping him twice but he just stood there, void of any emotion, defenseless. I try my best never to be emotional with any of the men I have sort of loved and lost. The events these past days, my frustration over Ed, and the gloom and tranquility of the entire city during Holy Week somehow connived to make me feel the way I did last night. Angered. Frustrated.Horny.

We didn't say anything to each other for a few moments. We stood there, gauging each other, as I rubbed my palm against my night dress, trying to soothe the pain.

Come in. I just bought some coffee beans from Starbucks. Would you like some coffee? The American Doctor and I have spent many dates over coffee at different coffee shops. It was the one thing we shared in common aside from the friendship and sex which we both lost when I caught him with another girl.

I sat on the couch, watching him silently as he went about the mundane task of brewing the coffee. He caught my eye and I had to look away. There was something totally wrong about the situation we were in.

I imagined his 9-inch cock. God, how I remember every detail of it, every vein, the huge cockhead that thickened when I licked it or whenever I licked his balls, the feel of his massive cock inside my pussy. All these thoughts raged through my mind. He was one hell of a good fuck.

Come here, Chris. I told him, my eyes closed, hoping he wouldn't hesitate and just come sit beside me and pull me close to him.

He kissed me softly. I savored his kiss for a moment. He kissed me again, this time letting go of his inhibition, offering his tongue to me. I kissed him back, reciprocating his need, feeling the warm wetness of his mouth and tongue. At the back of my mind, I felt I had broken that precious contract with Ed but I haven't forgiven him for not telling me he went out with another girl.

Chris sat on the floor and knelt in front of me. I spread my legs apart and pulled my thong to the side, revealing my pussy to him. I was already wet but not as wet as I would have expected. The thought of also cheating on Ed made me guilty but just a little. I figured a little revenge even without Ed knowing will make me feel better and in control again.

Chris licked my pussy lips in slow, calculated strokes. Up and down, his tongue slithered on my wet slit. He lingered on my clit, making circular strokes with his tongue and I felt like peeing under his expert ministration. He inserted a finger inside my pussy, pulling it out and pushing it in again, his finger curved upwards inside as if to say "Come hither'. I removed my nightdress and Chris pulled my panties down.

I kissed Chris again, tasting my pussy juice on his lips then made him lie down on the couch. I straddled him by the shoulder so I can fuck his face and mouth. I held his head in place while he inserted one finger inside my ass.

I rocked my hips back and forth. Chris tried to keep up with my motion until we got a good rhythm going. With my hands on his head, I maneuvered his head's position so that his tongue can go as deep inside my pussy as possible or pressed firmly against my clit just the way I liked it. I rode his mouth, building momentum, chasing after a brewing orgasm.

But I didn't want to cum yet.

Chris was fully clothed, his stiff cock tenting his jeans. I fumbled with his fly and freed up his cock. I knew it needed attention but I didn't take it inside my mouth. I held his cock with my right hand and lowered my pussy on it. When his cockhead hit the hilt of my pussy, there was no turning back for me. Rocking my hips, my hands placed firmly on his chest as I fucked myself with his cock to reach my orgasm, I knew I was gonna hit two birds with one stone with this sexual act.

One, I had my revenge on Ed.

And two, Chris will not cum tonight.

I reached my orgasm and slumped on Chris's chest, feeling that peace I always felt when I am with him. At the back of my mind, there is no forgiveness for Chris at all..or ever.

Chris rolled on top of me but before he could start pumping his cock in and out my pussy, I looked away from him and bid him "Good night, Chris." I released myself from his embrace, put my panties and night gown back on, walked to the door and held it open for him.

"Please go before I say something you don't wanna hear."

I didn't look at him as he composed himself. Without another word, he stepped out of my apartment and hopefully, out of my life for good.

The coffee smelled wonderful. I sat with a cup of coffee without drinking it for about 30 minutes as I thought about the events of that night. Ed and I are now even but I did something more horrible than what he did. I held my phone, contemplating the consequences if I called him now, after I fucked someone else, instead of letting him know before it happened, as was our deal.

I never knew why Chris suddenly showed up at my doorstep. I didn't care. It doesn't matter.

I turned off my phone, poured the coffee into the sink and went back to bed.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Cry for Help

Some may think I'm insecure.
But to me, I just seek control.
Without that control over Ed, I am just one of the girls he's banging.
I resent that.

* * *

I have more issues in this relationship with Ed than I ever had with any other guy. Thus, the reason for post after blog post. I've been reading Cyndi's blog posts regarding therapy and I feel that I seriously need the therapy more than she does and because of that, I should seek it.

Not that her issues are lesser in magnitude than mine. We have different issues but mine have become so destructive and I fear I might do something silly. I know Ed has nothing to do with the depression and frustration and anger I am feeling now. It's not a matter of IF I can walk away from him because I can. The question is WHY I don't want to and WHY I am in this fucking messed up relationship.

I found out he dated another girl last night without telling me.

I lashed out at him instantly. "This is the exact reason why we are in an open relationship. So that we can both be honest about what we're doing, who we're banging, who we're dating. I'm a control freak. You know that. And because you didn't tell me, I feel like I'm losing control and it's making me really mad."

His response was not far from what I expected. The deal was for us to tell each other if we are gonna have sex with other people (and of course to place safety as a priority) and he didn't have sex with the girl.

"But I am your girlfriend/mistress. I deserve the courtesy of knowing your whereabouts after more than 12 hours of not hearing from you."

Sex could mean totally nothing to him and I understand that. I feel the same way about sex. I have embraced the impermanence of love and I don't seek the "happily ever after" ending with him.

What I want is to be in control of our situation, over any and all situations. This relationship is unstable as it is and the slightest threat to my status among all the other women drives me crazy.

Some may think I'm insecure. Perhaps. But to me, I just seek control. Without that control over Ed, I am just one of the girls he's banging. I resent that.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Pain and Mistress Dilemmas

Pain has been a staple in our relationship.
And today is one of those days.
No phone calls, no messages.
But I am a mistress. I couldn't complain.

He was naked on the couch and leaning back comfortably, legs spread wide. His cock was erect, the head purplish and engorged in blood. I claimed my rightful place and knelt between his legs, ready to worship his cock. I licked his balls first then slithered my tongue on that spot between his balls and anus. With my lips wound tightly around the engorged head, I readied myself to take his massive cock down my throat.

I love the feel of his cockhead as it hits the back of my throat. Tears were streaming down my face as I gagged on his dick. He hit my cheeks with his open hand repeatedly, each slap harder than the one before it. My face started to burn and sting but he won't stop hitting me. I didn't want him to.

He pulled me up and I sat on his lap, facing him, legs apart. He guided his cock inside my pussy. I was aching for the feel of him inside me and started to move slowly up and down his cock, grinding my clitoris against his pelvis.

You're slow today, darling, he challenged me. Impaled on his cock, bouncing up and down on it harder and faster upon his command and screaming each time his cockhead reached the hilt of my pussy canal was a truly addictive feeling.

I whispered to him in between gasps of breath, my small fingers wrapped feebly around his strong right hand as he choked me to near asphyxiation. With a little more coaxing from me, he would have extinguished my breath completely. He never loses his control and if he does, I trust him to be able to revive me. And if he doesn't, dying as I orgasmed seemed like a good way to go.

* * * * * *

I am easily amused and aroused by the sight of his bite marks on my breasts. Lately, my nudity is less spectacular to me if there are no markings on my body to remind me who I belong to. The reddish spots around my neck have forced me to wear turtlenecks and scarves in the humid tropical weather. When colleagues ask in amazement why I have opted for less revealing and uncomfortable clothing, I just smile inwardly, careful not to give away clues to my dirty little secret.

Memories of his mouth around my nipple as he sucks hard on it with reckless abandon and my ear shattering screams fill my mind despite the chaos in my office. As the people around me zoom by, flustered and rushing to meet deadlines, I am in a state of calm and in my imagination I am back inside the hotel room where I spent a lovely weekend with him.

My thighs hurt from spreading wide to accommodate his body between my legs while his hands were on each of my thighs, forcing me to spread further. My pussy and asshole still hurt from the merciless pounding it got for two days and two nights, with only a few minutes of rest in between. I can no longer remember if we ever craved for food. Much of my memory of the weekend with him is about his cock down my throat, tears in my eyes as he slapped my face repeatedly. I was unaware of this pain while he fucked me senseless but now as I sit here writing this, I am conscious of every muscle that aches whenever I move and conscious of the pain that is starting to tug at my heart as he again forgot about me today.

* * * * * *

Pain has been a staple in our relationship.
Be it during sex or as an everyday commonplace occurrence, he never fails to hurt me.

And today is one of those days. No phone calls, no messages.
But I am a mistress. I couldn't complain.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Even If This Isn't Love

If this is love,
I want to feel it,
regardless of the magnitude of the consequences
or the depth of my scars when it ends.

* * *

I spent these past few weeks on nurturing my relationship with Eduardo, getting my heart broken on a regular basis and being won over again and again.

If I were just a little bit smarter, I would stay away from him. I should have done it a long time ago. Yet I am still here and I seem trapped in a prison I have no plan of escaping from or being set free. Perhaps after the first time we made love –sex—I should have left it like it is. But I wanted and got more of him.

I think I am in love again, after a long, long while. And it has been a bittersweet, wonderfully frustrating, abnormally exciting ride with him so far. I have only been with him a little over a month and the emotions he has evoked and stirred frustrate the hell out of me. I shift from happy to sad in an instant. I am happy because he treats me right, does all the things a perfect lover should do but sad that I am so cynical of him, so cynical of love. I shift roles from princess to slave. The princess gets whatever she wants, like sex toys for instance, only to be abused like a slave using the toys he got me for my own pleasure. I move from certainty to confusion. Do I really love him or am I in this relationship because it is forbidden and I get off from things that are not acceptable? Do I stay with him and wait for him to break my heart? Or do I leave now while I am still partially in control of my emotions?

I fear I would wake up one morning, stripped of all my pride and hating his wife for taking away what little time I have with him. There are days I would just lie in bed, waiting for him to come to me and when he does, he will fuck me to insanity then leave me to go back to the woman he has married. He tells me he loves me and I proclaim my love for him just as openly and yet there are times I just want to take back every I Love You, every kiss, every smile and every touch we shared. I let my guard down so easily, so quickly.

Each time I see him feels like that first time I laid eyes on him. Our lips and hands find their way to the erotic spots of our bodies the instant we are away from the public eye. We kiss furiously, urgently, my hands groping for his hard cock as his fingers trace the wet outline of my pussy lips. In the car, in the elevator, I get a high from sucking on his dick knowing any moment, someone might see us. The thought of the sheer danger he will be in if anyone finds out about our illicit affair fuels our need for each other even more. We know this is wrong. I know I want this even if it is wrong.

I am falling for him quickly. To prevent myself from falling too hard and too deep, I want and am allowed to continue sleeping with other men to remind myself of several important truths about us and what I am to him.

I am his mistress and mistresses don't end up marrying their lovers. I have no illusions that he will one day ask me to marry him.

Even if he wants me to fall hard for him, he will also break my heart. It will only be a matter of time. The harder I fall for him, the greater the pain I have to survive the moment he leaves me. I am better off hurting myself little by little so I can get used to this. When the ultimate heartache comes, I can just shake it off and move on.

I am his princess but there is no happy ending to this fairy tale.

We are in love. I can see it in the way he looks at me, the way he needs me, the way he kisses me. But I know he doesn’t love me enough to change his life to be with me. I don’t care. If this is love, I want to feel it, regardless of the magnitude of the consequences or the depth of my scars when it ends. Even if this isn't really love, I like the way this feels and I will hold on to it until it consumes me.