Close Your Eyes and Think of England
I may not have shared this before, but W has that thing where he faints at the sight of needles. Baso-something? So you’d think he wouldn’t be my first choice of companions to take to the piercer’s for my new piercings.
You’d be wrong.
Of course, I had to ask him several times if he was SURE he wouldn’t pass out on me. PLEASE. “Close your eyes and think of England,” I may have said. Or maybe I just thought it.
He didn’t pass out though! In fact, he and my awesome piercer had a high ole time poking around (“poking around”–hah, I made a pun without meaning to) in my nether region, making it “pretty” with lovely purple beads and poking new holes through my inner labia. Four new holes. Besides making me pretty, though, Courtney-the-piercer also facilitated a fun new game called “Make Jade Insane with Lust and then Deny Her the Rough Nasty Fucking She is Begging For,” by effectively closing up my girlparts by putting a single ring across each of my three healed sets of piercings so that I am, for all intents and purposes, unfuckable.
Ya’ll know that game, right?????
Well, if you don’t, you’re not alone. Before last Thursday, I didn’t know that game. I mean, the Mean Guy is all about fucking me and getting me fucked. He has been the number one advocate of making-Jade-orgasm-as-often-as-possible, and I’m here to tell you, I’m perfectly fine with that! In fact, he has even gone so far as to say that he really didn’t see the appeal in orgasm-denial. What fun is watching a woman squirm, in hearing her beg & plead, I ask you.
Hell, even I can see the fun in that, and I’m not even a Top.
Apparently, now, so can W. And all it took was me climbing up him in the kitchen, clinging to him, humping his leg, whimpering through the pain of rubbing the new piercings against him and begging him to please, please undo the rings holding my cuntlips closed so he could fuck me.
Suddenly, a light bulb went on in his head. I could literally see it. He got the wickedest grin on his face. “I think,” he said slowly, “we’re going to leave you closed up til next week when we go back to see Courtney.”
A monster has been created.
And meanwhile, here I sit, admiring my new piercings…and aching for cock.
I may die before I can get back to the piercer. Because I was supposed to go back Monday (tomorrow)…but…we are expecting a huge storm. Which means it could be several more days before we can get over there.
Death by denial-of-sex. Is it possible?