Are you my Daddy?

It's Friday night. I want fun (I am a girl after all) and maybe just need to whine for a sec before I pick myself up and go find it. I am deprived. I am deprived of depravity. I have what I want, a lady I adore, friends I am blessed with, a path clear and bright, but you know what I don't have? Kinky-Hot-Take-Me-Fuck-Me-Use-Me-Hard-Fucking.

And goddamn it's been a long time. That old cockhungry feeling may be returning, but that's not quite it. I have toys aplenty and a lady not afraid to wield them. I begged her, "Please, please fuck me, push me down on my knees" and she did that, expertly. Something's missing...

I want to be owned. Sigh. No, I want to be abused then coddled: repeat.

I know I can't be right now, there is no one available to the task. I have trodden back and forth the bridge of my last partner's patience. I considered burning it up once or twice, and I'm glad I knew better. Something about him has changed me. I can never go back. I can't have him now, mostly due to the distance between our homes (not to mention his being on a date tonight), but his stories, rather than getting me randy, are making me mopey.



Lament.
Where, oh where are you my daddy? I'm here, in the windy city, waiting, cooing, needing to be seen and cared for...





picture sneakily nicked from Lola