Prrr ide

“Prrr ide” was written for BDSMforyou.nl by B-liever“

Proud mom of Bas and Lian. I needed a man. So off to Tinder I went. Hair in place, glasses straight, two almost identical photos. But still slightly different, so distinct – and what are you supposed to do now? I need a man. Get lost!

I was a man and took a breath. In deep, out very deep. Five seconds to take in all the oxygen. Five seconds to let it out of my body. I ignored the rising anger by simulating a breath that matched me swaying in a hammock.

Cycle

She added: on a distant, warm island somewhere in the tropical ocean. I wanted to say that the tropical ocean doesn’t exist. I couldn’t. The cycle has to be in five stages. Five times in and five times out. Actually, I just wanted sex with her. I wanted kinky sex. My fist in her pussy. Spreading her wide open. Back and forth. Stretching my fingers and clenching my fist again.

It wasn’t going to happen. She was against sadomasochism, though she did call herself a bossy type and emphasized once more that she doesn’t play those kinds of dirty games. I held out my hand and introduced myself as Jan. “Jan the dirty man,” I added cheerfully. I fist and lick pussy and I’m not averse to anal play either, but I don’t do anything with the kids around. No blood, poop, or pee, I added.

Crawling

By then she was already gone, and I wondered if I should crawl after her. Right there on my knees through the grass. Her ass was a bit too much, but the rest was nicely proportioned. In my mind, I could already feel my body crawling over her. My mouth kissing, searching for her buttock. Those teeth would bite. Hard, flesh, raunchy with drool and all that.

I followed her for two days. Then she turned around. She stood with her legs spread wide, hands on her hips. Her Groningen accent was sharp, and for a moment I thought of a blonde gay guy in black latex pants. She asked what I wanted, and I said sincerely that I wanted her. She felt the same, and I was allowed to be at her house half an hour after dark.

New Moon

The door was open, and it was a new moon. That brought a dark night. I knocked anyway, but she pulled me inside. She helped me out of my clothes in a flash. I cried out: “No, not that!” But everything had to come off. I was alone in my nakedness. How hard I had tried. All that remained were traces of makeup. Wild smudges that lingered as if there had been a fight.

That wasn’t it. It was loving, even as she gripped me firmly by the balls. She struck with a skilled hand. The whip, my body tightly bound. No escape, not even an unexpected movement possible. It was safer than expected. So I dreamed of an ending with some nice anal play. Stretching, making it bigger, and coming while fucking in a lavish oil bath.

Transvestite!

I was a damn transvestite. My dress, the stockings – everything had been taken from me. Then take my virtue too. But no. She sucked me. Her lips around my glans, then greedily and far too deep. I didn’t want to. The orgasm suppressed by other thoughts. She knew it and squeezed right there. I moaned; she didn’t smother it – it turned into a scream.

So I came. Not wholeheartedly. Like a thief in the night. Dressed up, a man in women’s clothes. A free thinker, someone who isn’t afraid to speak his mind but remained silent again today. You always feel a bit awkward when three tissues are grabbed and your output is wiped away. Humiliating, if you will. Or passion reduced to the practical.

Now it’s over

As we lay side by side on the bed, my hand wandered down over her stomach. She pushed it away; she didn’t want it. She smoked a cigarette, and it was over. I tried one more opening. That she was proud of Bas and Lian. Yes, she said. Then: Oh, the internet. Yes, a man has to be there, tomorrow again, first this, and now it’s over.

I turned around. Looked at her questioningly. She got out of bed. Put the remains of my clothes in a plastic bag. If you put on your coat, no one will notice. It’s still dark. I shook my head. She didn’t. The door opened meaningfully. I called myself a transvestite, clearly asking for one more time and more. She shook her head: a man doesn’t fit in there.

I left the building. My head in ruins. As if I’d been struck against a rock.

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Source

Text: B-liever
Image: 123rf.com