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The Real Fifty

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”How old are you these days?”

“Forty,” he said.

I blinked. Wow. Time has passed.

An hour later I was in his bedroom, gasping, as he worked an impossibly large dildo inside me, and I couldn’t care less about his age.

“Who are you?”

“I’m… uh… I’m a little girl?”

“Whose little girl?” he pressed. My cheeks were already flushed, but I knew they turned darker.

“Yours.”

“That’s right.”

He smiled, and I could see that hint of predator that had scared me so much the first time he forced me down. His fingers found my nipple and twisted, making me whimper.

“What do you want?”

I looked down. He twisted harder. I was not getting away from this one. What did I want? When did I ever know what I wanted? I sighed and closed my eyes, willing myself to stop worrying. Not care about right and wrong answers, silliness or clichés. What did I want, really, right now? The answer was so simple it almost made me giggle. I whispered it to him, gazing up from between the purple pillows, lips dry, eyes glazed over.

“More.”

 

I was sitting in his kitchen, sipping my too-hot coffee. It was a wonderful kitchen. Almost as memorable as the sex. Don’t tell him that, though – I’m not sure any guy would take it the right way. I could hear him tapping away at the computer in the next room, checking e-mails and doing that Facebook thing. Once, he came to the door. He just stood there, looking at me. Smiling.

“What?”

“I never thought I should see you in my kitchen.”

“Oh.”

“It’s nice.”

I couldn’t help smiling too. It was just that. Nice.

“Did you read those Fifty Shades-books?” I asked.

He frowned and shook his head.

“I know a lot of women who like them,” he said. “Why?”

I shrugged.

“It’s just… everyone talks about them as if they are oh so kinky and daring. But it’s really just vanilla sex with a blindfold. I was so disappointed. I thought I was going to get some dirty details.”

He laughed.

“We make our own dirty details, don’t we?”

We did. I thought about it all the way home on the train. Fifty Shades of Grey is a cute little love story with cute little sex scenes. But it has nothing to do with the kind of kinky fuckery I know. This. What I write here. This will be my kind of kinky. The real Fifty.

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3 responses »

  1. I eagerly await further posts…

    Reply
  2. You have to love a woman who really knows what she wants and gets it. Tip

    Reply

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