Unknown: Justine_s dark side

I love pain, you see, and that's a fact I'm afraid I can't shy away from any longer.

Nor do I feel bad about it.

Nor do I dread it.

Not in my head, anyway.

No.

I have this thing about sexual stimulation, and when I want to get it, there's nothing that will keep me from it.

The truth is, I love it when a man ties me up and does to me.

It gets me crazy, if you know what I mean.

And I'm sure you do.

I wasn't always like this.

Well, let me correct that.

I was probably like this from the day I was born, only I didn't know it.

There were signs early on that something wasn't right with my love life.

I can clearly remember going out with guys and somehow not quite being able to get it off…

I mean, they always had a ball, because I could fuck all night.

I spread my legs for one and all, looking for the man with the magic cock, the man who could bring me over the brink and make me come.

But no go.

I'm one of the lucky ones… one of those real good-looking Chicago city babes.

I mean, I'm tall, blonde, shapely and with a smile that could dazzle a toothpaste manufacturer.

So men come on to me all the time. They want to fuck me, and will kiss my ass for the privilege.

Which is the whole problem!

I don't like men who kiss my ass! I want men who will make me kiss theirs! Literally!

I want men who will show me the way to my knees, and who, if I'm bad, won't hesitate to discipline me for my indiscretions.

Is that asking too much?

I don't think so…

I really don't…

I need that kind of loving…

I guess you could say I'm that cosmic pain girl!

Anyway, it all came clear to me, finally, this year.

Yes, just this year.

I'm only twenty-three, so I guess I'll have enough good times left, although when I think of all those men whose balls I turned blue from the age of eighteen through to now, I have to blush.

Sorry guys!

I didn't mean it!

It wasn't my fault.

I just… I just… didn't know…

You should have smacked me around for being such a ball-breaker.

Then I would have fucked you to death!

Really.

Men, I've got a pair of legs, and just slightly plump, porcelain thighs that feel so good around your neck…

Believe me, I know…

And I can sit on your face so good, so that my pussy comes right down on your mouth and my asshole on your nose, and both get warmer and warmer as I force you to suck me off and jerk yourself off while you do…

Until you throw me off and start to whip me!

Yeah!

But I'm getting ahead of my story.

Way ahead.

The truth of the matter is, I've never been so hot or so needing a good fuck as I was that night, early this year, when I was hanging out at Mickey's, my neighborhood bar.

I live in Chicago, otherwise known as… Stewardess Town.

Although I'm not a Stew, I'm a private secretary for a busy Chicago broker, I still find that atmosphere in those singles bars kind of funky.

I mean, the guys are all hard-on, and the women know it.

They spend hours getting themselves to look the part, like a centerfold, and then break the balls of the guys who fuck them!

It's fun…

And then they find one sugar daddy who'll fuck them in Chicago, and add him to the list of men they fuck around the country…

Not a bad gig…

So, on this particular night, I wasn't expecting anything any different.

I knew there'd be the funny looking guys trying to score with me it's always the funny looking ones who seem so desperate and that I'd probably pick some lucky guy out sooner or later and let him take me to his place and try to please me…

I was sucking on the straw of my whiskey sour when this guy sat down next to me.

I glanced over and almost spit out my drink!

I mean, he was gorgeous!

And I'm not kidding about that.

He was a hunk!

Nothing like the guys who usually sniff my quim from across the room and come over, with a collar already around their neck! No!

This guy looked like a movie star.

Paul Newman.

He was tall, with blue black hair, and broad shoulders… the likes of which were enough to make me swallow very hard, and as my eyes fell to his bulge, I knew I was in trouble.

His cock was enormous!

And it was sticking right through his jeans.

Well, I don't mean he was walking around with a hard-on in plain view… I'm just trying to tell you that he had it… the balls, you know, to back up what he looked like!

And he was certainly getting to me!

And he knew it.

I took a deep breath and could smell his manly scent. It was the shaving cream, or after shave or after something… but whatever it was, it was feeling up my nose pretty good.

I wanted to fuck him.

My pussy was juicing up, and that alone signaled to me there was something quite unusual going on here.

I mean, ordinarily it takes quite a lot for my pussy to get all wet…

But not this night!

I was afraid that if I stood sip, there'd be a tell-tale stain on my dress, and I didn't want that!

"May I buy you a drink?"

"Me?"

"Well, you are the foxiest lady here, aren't you?"

He smiled, and I melted still further.

I guess I have him the look, because after a couple of drinks with him, I was feeling pretty lightheaded and decided to take just the teeniest bit of the initiative.

Something I'd telegraphed much earlier. "So… aaah… ummm… do you live around here?"

"As a matter of fact, not too far…"

"Ohhhh… and… aaahhh… would you like to… that is… are you…"

"Interested in fucking you?"

He smiled over his words!

"Yy… well… I mean…"

"You know what you mean. Why don't you just come out and say it. What do you think you're afraid of?"

"Nothing," I said, clearly. "All right… would you like to have me sit on your face?"

"Would you like me to?"

I blushed!

Can you imagine that? Me, the queen of ball busters, was actually blushing!

I knew this guy was special!

"Yes…"

My voice was sotto, almost to the point where he couldn't hear me.

"Louder," he said.

He sounded almost demanding, and I wasn't sure what that meant.

But I liked it! I knew that much.

There was something about the tone of his voice that sent needles through me.

He really knew how to turn me on!

"I… I… want you to fuck me!"

It was so loud I thought the rest of the bar was going to stop and turn their heads toward me and lean in… just like in that TV commercial…

But no…

It was only my imagination.

No one else was that interested in my sexual games… they were all too busy with their own.

And just as well.

He finished his drink and told me in no uncertain terms to hurry up and finish mine.

I did as I was told…

I didn't want to hold him up at all!

Now, as downed the last of my cocktail, I looked at him and smiled.

"Now what?"

"Now you follow me out that door an into my waiting limo."

Waiting limo.

Gooooooddddd… I liked the sound of that. I slid off the stool and followed, just as he said, until we were outside.

There, a long black stretch limo was waiting for us.

The driver opened the door for me and I got in, followed by this gorgeous guy.

"My name is Clifford," he said, softly, as he slid in next to me.

"Clifford. Nice name. Moi Justine."

He didn't react to my name at all.

Instead, he took my hands and made me put them in my lap.

I thought that was kind of cute.

He wanted me to sit a certain way.

Well, that was easy enough.