Yes, this is another oldie previously posted on the other site. Since I haven’t see PG in a hot minute (Booooo! You whore!), this is all I have to work with, y’all. Jesus, I need some #peen. Oh, wait…I’ll be getting that this weekend…Here’s the old post from my 22Jan17 visit – the last one before the putative ghosting situation with some updates…I haven’t decided to what extent the ghosting episode will be covered here…Enjoy!
I feel like this post should begin with “Dear Penthouse”. I am not even sure where to start. If you are a delicate flower, just get the hell out of here. You’ll thank me later.
I just got back from an unexpected trip to see Plane Guy.
For funsies today, I donned my favorite black latex outfit, lubed myself up to a lovely sheen, and took a photo for PG. He freaked out (“OMG. When was this?!” he asked. My reply: “Uh, 5 minutes ago.”) and requested more photos…lots more. I looked hot, even though I smelled like a giant condom. I think that maybe my latex pics and him knowing all the effort I went through to get those pictures he requested pushed him over the edge. My presence was requested. The preparations for a visit to PG are intense, indeed.
There is no way a simple post could really tell the story, but THINGS WENT ENTIRELY TO ANOTHER LEVEL. Like, for reals. I really need to start taking video of these encounters…full, HD video, so that I can remember all the things he says and does to me.
I got to be in control (much to his dismay) at the beginning. As he knelt on the floor with his body against the bed, I gave him a medium-level caning on his ass for the first time. My fingernails scraped across his back in a pleasing plaid pattern that looked lovely with the angry red stripes I had put onto his ass with the cane. Remember that I am a sadist, kids. I take pleasure in inflicting pain on others. It’s true. PG’s displeasure caused me to be flooded with glee and bliss. I made sure to point this out to him. With each snap of the cane across his ass, he twitched and grunted. Before we switched, uh…I did the one thing that I swore I’d never do again after doing it once years ago. Yep, I tossed his salad – ate his ass – whatever. Even worse? I think that I enjoyed doing it…I know that he absolutely enjoyed it. Let me clarify: I do not enjoy eating ass, but his reaction to said ass eating was the turn-on for me.
Then we switched and PG was in control and things got ridiculous. I was instructed to arrive wearing my gem butt plug…It was weird. Every sneeze or cough on my drive to his house was fraught with peril. Long story short? During our gyrations…It. Got. Lost. In. Me.
Oh. Holy. Jesus.
What I may not have discussed in my previous post on FT are the details. After a rather vigorous fucking session (vag and ass), PG ended up on the floor. It looked like he was on his hands and knees looking for something. Um. WTF? I asked what he was doing and he said that he was looking for the plug because it wasn’t on the bed. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘It isn’t on the bed?!’” I was concerned. When he couldn’t find it, I freaked out. I swore out loud to him that I would kill him with my own hands if I had to go to the emergency room to remove the damned thing.
I went into the bathroom and stuck a finger into my ass. I’m not proud, but it is what one must do in a situation like this. I was sitting on the toilet and he opened the door. For fuck’s sake. CLOSE THE DOOR! He closed the door and I could hear him laughing in the hallway as he paced back and forth between the bathroom and the kitchen. God. Dammit. I said that I would get it out, but he was concerned about his brand-new toilet. “I don’t want that thing falling into my toilet and scratching it! Let me get a colander!”
I was absolutely NOT going to bear down and poop out my lovely gem butt plug into his damned pasta colander. I told him to hold onto the colander and I would figure it out myself. By this time I had calmed down and decided that I’d just have to get to things. I squatted on the bathroom floor, bared down, and *poof* out it popped. “I got it oooooouuuuuut!” I was triumphant and quite relieved. I cleaned off myself and the plug (so much lube!!) and emerged from the bathroom holding the little gem high in the air like it was the fucking Stanley Cup. He was howling at this point. Er, thanks for your help, #asshat. Colander, indeed! You never really bond with someone till you lose a butt plug in your ass.
I rather skipped a few parts, including the part where he repeatedly said that he loves me. No, I am not kidding. It started out as, “I fucking love fucking you!” and then morphed into several proclamations of, “I LOVE YOU!” and additional proclamations of my absolute sexual perfection. (Please don’t laugh…I don’t believe it, either.)
Um. What in the actual hell happened here????? Someone please enlighten me.
Please. Only one other man (other than my father) has ever said he loves me. While I know Plane Guy doesn’t love me like with flowers and unicorns, maybe it is a lustful kind of love…which I get, I think. Anyone? Thoughts??
It was my idea to go to that scary place. I have this odd compulsion to to whatever I can to please HIM. That is completely new to me…before Plane Guy I didn’t really give that much of a crap if the guy enjoyed himself. I will also add, however, that other guys I have been with post-Plane Guy do not get the same level of my sluttiness and the eager-to-please attitude that Plane Guy gets.
Yes, I trust him with my life. Remember the knife incident?** I took a few photos of him last night and he asked to see them. One has his face…definitely identifiable. I told him I’d not do anything untoward with these photos – and believe me, I could ruin him with these things. He looked right at me and said, “Listen to me. I. Trust. You.” The trust is absolutely mutual.
This “I love you” situation…I mean, I don’t really know absolutely for certain that he means LOVE. I wouldn’t even know how to broach the subject…I am not even sure that I should. Can you love someone and not even know their last name? I love being with him…how I feel when I am with him, but…One thing he said was to the effect that no matter who I am seeing or who he is seeing or what our situations are he will “always” want to be with me. So maybe that is his way of letting me know that he has someone in his life already? I just don’t know.
**Oh. You don’t remember the knife incident? Here’s the quick and dirty version from 11Jan17:
So last night I went to see Plane Guy again.
Maybe it’s just me, but when he used a huge knife to cut me out of my body stocking, I could not BELIEVE how hot that was.
I guess most men don’t have ginormous knives sheathed on their bedposts, though. I think that the blade must have been a good ten inches.
…continuation of my thoughts on 23Jan17…
I am wondering if he has a steady girl. Last night he said something like, “no matter who I (he) am with or the circumstances you won’t stop fucking me.” Then today I received these 2 texts (among many other salacious ones):
- Please tell me that no matter what we never stop fucking one another.
- You do understand I will never stop fucking you.
Why would he say that if he wasn’t with someone? I feel like it was meant to be preemptive or something…Our texts today were fantastic…I wish he lived closer to me.
…and always remember: Ho is life, y’all!
#notesfromaslut #honeytoes #hoislife