Someone's Bitch
The Frat Boy says he wants to fuck me. He says he wants to “tap that ass.”
He asks me what kind of undies I wear, hoping it will be something lacey and feminine. He’s really turned on by fem boys and has told me more than once about guys he’s fucked, saying “It was just like fucking a girl!”
I tell him I don’t usually wear underwear.
He’s told me about the girls he’s fucked, the guys he’s fucked. He tells me about bending them over, smacking their asses, and making them beg for more. He wants me to tell him what I have planned for him and me, what I want to do with him. I tell him I want to lick his balls, choke on his cock. I tell him I want him to fuck my tight ass.
And then I realize I’m only saying these things because I know it’s what he wants to hear. I realize I’m playing phone sex operator, that it’s just cyber sex again and I’m not getting off. I realize how uncomfortable I am saying things as crass and artless as “choke on your cock” and “fuck my tight ass.” Besides which, what I really want to do is finger his perfect bubble butt. I want him to take me in hand, I want to surrender some control, let him dominate me, but gently, tenderly, even lovingly. I want to be kissed.
That’s when the obvious hits me.
“You don’t kiss boys, do you?”
“I have,” he says. “Prefer not to.”
“You don’t suck dick either.”
He laughs. “Do I seem like someone who sucks dick?” asks the Frat Boy with naked pictures in his Gay.com profile.
All of this is humiliating, and part of me is completely turned off. But at the same time I am undeniably attracted. Being objectified, undervalued, the blatant disregard for my own pleasure, the subordination, the submission; these are not things I have ever experienced and part of me really likes it.
I’m also frustrated. I want a lover who will reciprocate. I don’t want to feel used. I don’t want to feel like a substitute hole when there’s no pussy around or it’s not tight enough. I don’t want to be fucked by someone who wishes I was a girl. I don’t want to be made into someone’s bitch.
And then I think about how severely hot the Frat Boy is, how much I want to put my mouth on his body, and I’m still lost.
He asks me what kind of undies I wear, hoping it will be something lacey and feminine. He’s really turned on by fem boys and has told me more than once about guys he’s fucked, saying “It was just like fucking a girl!”
I tell him I don’t usually wear underwear.
He’s told me about the girls he’s fucked, the guys he’s fucked. He tells me about bending them over, smacking their asses, and making them beg for more. He wants me to tell him what I have planned for him and me, what I want to do with him. I tell him I want to lick his balls, choke on his cock. I tell him I want him to fuck my tight ass.
And then I realize I’m only saying these things because I know it’s what he wants to hear. I realize I’m playing phone sex operator, that it’s just cyber sex again and I’m not getting off. I realize how uncomfortable I am saying things as crass and artless as “choke on your cock” and “fuck my tight ass.” Besides which, what I really want to do is finger his perfect bubble butt. I want him to take me in hand, I want to surrender some control, let him dominate me, but gently, tenderly, even lovingly. I want to be kissed.
That’s when the obvious hits me.
“You don’t kiss boys, do you?”
“I have,” he says. “Prefer not to.”
“You don’t suck dick either.”
He laughs. “Do I seem like someone who sucks dick?” asks the Frat Boy with naked pictures in his Gay.com profile.
All of this is humiliating, and part of me is completely turned off. But at the same time I am undeniably attracted. Being objectified, undervalued, the blatant disregard for my own pleasure, the subordination, the submission; these are not things I have ever experienced and part of me really likes it.
I’m also frustrated. I want a lover who will reciprocate. I don’t want to feel used. I don’t want to feel like a substitute hole when there’s no pussy around or it’s not tight enough. I don’t want to be fucked by someone who wishes I was a girl. I don’t want to be made into someone’s bitch.
And then I think about how severely hot the Frat Boy is, how much I want to put my mouth on his body, and I’m still lost.