There’s nothing I like more than cleaning up after myself, so I shoot him a close-up photo of my lips wrapped around my fingers.
@daring_devil: I wish I was there to help you clean up that mess you made, sir.
@watch_me_watch_you: Fuck. You’re killing me here, little devil.
I laugh at his reply, knowing exactly what I’m doing to him.
Most girls shy away from tasting themselves, but not me. I love it. Although it’s better when I’m licking it off a man’s tongue. The thought makes me wish I really was there with him. I’d ride his face, then clean up my mess as he fucks me into the next day.
Rolling over, I bury my head in my pillows, feeling a little bereft lying here naked and alone. I want his hands and tongue on my body for real, but I’m not sure he’s ready for that. He messaged me tonight ready to call it all off. I can’t imagine he’ll be willing to meet me at Euphoria.
Instead of making a needy fool of myself, I tamp down my impulse to beg him to meet me and send him a final cheeky message for the night.
@daring_devil: I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks
@watch_me_watch_you: Watch that smart mouth of yours, little devil.
@daring_devil: Or what?
@watch_me_watch_you: Or I’ll have to fill it with something to shut you up.
@daring_devil: Promises, promises.
@watch_me_watch_you: Get some sleep.
@daring_devil: Yes, sir.
Mum shouts to the twins to get ready for bed—shit, I didn’t hear her come home—and I scramble for my clothes, not wanting to risk anyone bursting in here to say good night and copping more than they bargain for. Then I head into my ensuite to wash my hands and splash water on my flushed cheeks. I can’t help the smile on my lips as I stare at my reflection.
There’s something about this man that’s super endearing. I don’t feel like he’s using me to fulfil a fantasy like @mr_green. He wasn’t at Euphoria with the sole intent of hooking up, and he’s adorably clueless about how this all works, but when it comes time to get down and dirty, he knows exactly what to say to get me going.
My infatuation with older men may have started because of my abandonment issues with my father, and as a way to take back my control after what happened with my first stepfather when I was younger, and then with Dylan, but there’s something about @watch_me_watch_you that makes me feel safe, even when he’s telling me the things he wants to do to my body. There’s nothing predatory about him. He doesn’t make me call him daddy or tell me he wants to spank me.
Truth be told, I was uncomfortable with some of @mr_green’s demands. I’m glad he didn’t show up at the club the other week.
Collecting my yoga mat from beside my desk, I switch on some calming music and roll out my mat. While I enjoy knowing I can drive a man wild just by seeking my own pleasure, I also need the peace and calm of grounding my body through yoga and reconnecting with myself. Yoga has become more than just my daily practice—it’s a reclamation, my quiet rebellion, a way to understand what my mind, body, and soul need without validation from others.
My parents fucked me up by treating me like an afterthought, but I won’t let that define who I am. I will continue to build myself up and love who I am. No one can take that away from me.
Sitting up straight and finding my centre, I breathe through one of my yin yoga sessions, taking my time to hold my poses, accessing and stretching out my muscles. As I do, I clear my mind and prepare to reset for tomorrow.
I can’t helpbut smile when I wake to a message from my mystery man.
@watch_me_watch_you: Good morning, little devil. I just want to make sure you’re okay with what we did last night. It wasn’t my intention to take things that far when I messaged you, and I don’t want you thinking I’m some dirty creep who’s only using you to get off. That’s not who I am.
This man is way too adorable for his own good, and though it’s attractive, I’m not explicitly looking for a relationship. Going to the club has been about regaining control over my body. In fact, I’ve been more interested in exploring my own body than interacting with anyone. The silver-masked man is the first person I’ve initiated anything with.
The two other men I have interacted with at the club approached me after seeing me in the voyeur hall. They were both over confident daddy types who showered me with praise about what a good little girl I was while fucking my mouth or spanking my arse as they pounded into me from behind. While it was fun at the time, I have to admit, it left me feeling bereft.
I’m not used to anyone checking in. The butterflies in my stomach are an odd sensation that I haven’t felt since early in my six-month relationship with Dylan—before he showed me what an arse he was.
@daring_devil: Well, aren’t you sweet. I’m fairly certain I was the one to initiate what happened last night, and I’m more than okay with the resulting orgasm.
@watch_me_watch_you: I’m trying to be a gentleman here…
@daring_devil: Well, kind sir, thank you for the orgasm
@watch_we_watch_you: You’re incorrigible.
