Ghosts

I had a strange thing happen last night. I thought of something I hadn't thought about in a long time.

Duane.

When I was growing up in a town in West Coast Canada, I lived in a quiet neighborhood half a block from the ocean.

I must have been 13 when it started. I'm not sure how it started. All I know is that I spent a lot of time looking out my window. I had a cute neighbor that I would keep an eye out for and there were always good looking guys playing street hockey in front of my house.
Duane was a kid who was older than the ones that played hockey, maybe 16. He occasionally hung out with them, but mostly hung out with a jerk that would sometimes screech through the neighborhood with his base-pumping-truck.
He must have seen me at my window looking out into the night because a kind of obsession started.
He would sit across the street and watch my window, and I would sit at my window hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

He would let me know he was there with a simple whistle, high-note, low-note.

I remember one episode where he climbed up onto a building roof and then into a big tree where he must have had gunpowder or sulfur because he lit it on fire in his hand. He almost set the tree on fire. I freaked out when he left without noticing something was burning. He eventually returned, saw it and put it out.

I gave my very first strip show for him. I remember feeling the rush of undressing in front of the window while he was watching.

He started leaving notes for me on my windowsill while I was sleeping. I would leave one for him the next night as a response. I have no idea what we wrote, I'm guessing things like, what's your name? and I like you.

I eventually moved when my parents split up. Years had gone by maybe 3 or so. I was 16 I think. It was a rocky period for me. I left a note on my window warning him that I'd be moving to another house. The next day he came by during the day. whistle. And by note he asked me to meet him at the ocean that afternoon.
I was scared, but full of adrenaline.
It was the first time I saw him by day and so close up. He was tall, lanky, typical teenager, not terribly attractive, but not ugly. I was embarrassed. He was awkward. He held out a little stuffed animal, a white puppy with a colourful birthday cone on it's head. He said "here, this is for you". I'm pretty sure I refused it at first but he got the worst look on his face so I said "alright" and took it.

That was the last I saw of him.

I'm sure he wanted to say more. Thinking back I was pretty harsh with him that day. I didn't make things easier for him. I wonder where he is now.

intense

This week has been an intense one. I played hard all week. My legs are sore from the strain of cumming so often.
I went onto Justchat the other night. Something I haven't done in a long time. Since Robby wasn't around and neither was Sgar. Seems like when I'm on, no-one else is. I grabbed a few guys off of Justchat.

One was Simon. He was cute and hot. He just wanted to watch me strip. We jumped right into Skype and played Simon says. He was pretty bad at it. He kept forgetting to say "simon says" giving me the chance to play Simona.
He was so excited, like a kid at Christmas. His cock was hard and big. The rush I was getting was from the smile on his face. It was like he'd never done it before. Or maybe it was his first time getting someone decent.

I played with Sgar a few times too. He's always hot and willing to play. His (3 year) girlfriend was away. She'll be away part of next week too. We'll be playing again on Monday. The nice thing with him is that he doesn't just dissapear after we play. He hangs around to chat which is a turn on.

Sgar and I had a conversation about passion. We came to the conclusion that there were only two possibilites. One was that you have a stable relationship without much passion, or you have a passionate relationship that isn't very stable.

My question to him:
"Quindi cosa scegli, l'amore passionale che forse non dura o la stabilità senza passione?"
"So, what do you choose, passionate love that might not last or stability without the passion?"

His answer:
"l'ultimo, con un'occhio al primo"
"the last, with an eye on the first"

I like him. He's a lot like me.

"The meeting" Part III

We wandered back towards the centre of town, we still had some time. While waiting at a crosswalk he was behind me, he gave me a little finger flick against my ass, startling me. It was my cue, I hooked my arm around his, I think he was relieved. He didn't move to remove it. We grabbed a cup of tea in a dingy little coffee shop, hoping it would be intimate, but it wasn't, it was the opposite, bright lights, bad decor and full of strange people. We took our tea and went out into the main shopping drag and sat on a bench watching people go by.

We eventually stood up to head back to the train station, my arm hooked around his, he turned to me out of the blue and said, "do you want to hold my hand?". I almost melted at the sweetness of it. "yes".

*to consider how roughly he spoke to me in the previous years, calling me his slut, and wanting to gag me with his cock.*

His hands were small. Rough, tight skin covering the palms. The sensation was harsh against mine but I loved it. I wanted them to touch me, run under my shirt, along my back, down into the back of my jeans.

We finally got to the train station with some time to spare. It was awkward, I could tell we both wanted something to happen. We talked about guilt. He said that he didn't feel guilty about meeting me. I said that there was no reason to, we hadn't done anything. This made me think that he didn't want to do anything to feel guilty about.

Five minutes before the train was supposed to slide into the station, I said that I should go through the turnstile. He agreed and stood up. I stared into his steely blue cool eyes. I searched them for some kind of hint, some clue as to what to do, it seemed like an eternity.
We hugged. It was longer than the welcome hug. I held him tight, I didn't want to let go. As we hugged I looked up at him again, hoping he'd lean in and kiss me, his eyes unpassable, no clue.

We said goodbye and I walked through the turnstile while he watched me. He turned and started walking away, I wanted to call him, tell him to come back. I wanted to kiss him.

As I walked to the platform I contemplated texting him to tell him to come back. I still had 4 minutes. I could make it. I started texting, gave up, not sure, started again, and a train arrived. I had the phone in my hand, I wanted to tell him so many things. I got on the train. It was strange, dingier than the one I came on, seats were set differently, the train announced where it was going, wrong train. I walked off, phone still in hand typing frantically, not getting the letters out, wrong word, correction, right word... Message as follows:

"you should have kissed me"
"Should I?"
"Not sure, I was waiting and hoping. This may sound extreme but I'll never forget this, I really enjoyed it, thanks."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, I was hoping and waiting too but I guess I missed out!"
"It kinda stings to think that we both wanted to..."
"it's too late now hon x"
"lol hon, duh..."
"I think if you made a move on me it could've turned out quite interesting!"
I was waiting for you to make a move, I wasn't sure you wanted to. I didn't want you to feel guilty. but it would have been very interesting
"Yeah but I had a great time and I'm not a pushy type of guy so I'm not worried about it But would really love to fuck you hon xx"
"too bad you're not! I'm not pushy either, I would love to fuck you too hon."
"Good i'm gad you liked me. I was worried you wouldn't."
"I wasn't worried. I wasn't sure you'd like me either. Where are you? I'm almost in London." "Nearly home, gonna say I finished work early. It's all good x"
Damn It still stings.

"The Meeting" Part II

We wandered into the next room and wandered through the special collection of Burne Jones. Perseus. Eight (I think) Paintings of the story of Perseus killing Medusa and freeing a princess from a water-monster (depicted above).



Such an amazing collection. Erotic. The princess Andromeda tied naked to a rock in the middle of the ocean, cold and dripping.
I had the uncontrollable urge to take Robby right there. I resisted, limiting myself to staring while he wasn't watching.

We headed off to the gift shop... getting lost in the museum. Robby bought me two postcards of my two favorite paintings, the gigantic painting I gawked at and Perseus with the monster. I now have them pinned up above my computer.

We walked out and down to the canal area to get some lunch. We ate at a restaurant that had something to do with Slugs. I had a massive burger while Robby had a wrap of sorts (I think, my memory is terrible). He didn't sit in front of me, he sat next to me which was unconventional. It made me want to put my leg over his. We talked easily I gave him a drawing I had made especially for him. I had drawn it when he told me he wasn't coming.

It represents pretty well how I was feeling


Although my feelings changed about his meeting me, the picture still represents my feelings about him.

He thanked me and said he'd put it up at work. He asked me to draw something for him right there in the restaurant. So I drew him a tiny picture on a piece of paper like a bookmark.

We left the restaurant to take a walk along the canals. It's a beautiful area, we chatted about the long boats as wandered under bridges. There was a bridge which had a staircase that went up to the level above. There was a couple making out heavily on the steps. We both saw them, and looked away quickly, a reminder of what we felt like doing. My mind went through different options. I could pull him behind the arch of the bridge and kiss him. Maybe I should wait to see if he makes the first move. Will he regret it? Is he attracted to me?

"The Meeting" part I

I had to divide this into three parts to get it the way I wanted it. Sorry if it's long.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞


While I was in London visiting the museums and friends I was also organizing "The Meeting" with Robby. We sent texts back and forth and finally we decided to meet in Birmingham. Not the conventional tourist attraction.

I got train and bus info to get there and back, I found out that I needed 2 hours by train to get there and 3 by bus. This was not going to be the easiest thing since it was also my last day in London before leaving to go back to Italy the next morning so I wanted to see all my friends for drinks or dinner, both new and old. (I had met some fun Italians while I was there).

I lucked out on cheap train tickets which I bought on Sunday... we were meeting on Monday, I was leaving Tuesday.

I have to admit that there was an inkling of fear in the back of my mind. A woman meeting (almost) a complete stranger. No-one knew about "The Meeting" except for a friend waaay far away in Canada. I was (very slightly) worried he was going to slit my throat and drop me into a river or something.

The evening before I left I told my Canadian friends in London that I was going for a day trip (wasn't sure where). I told my Italian roommate at the hostel that I was going to Birmingham to meet a friend, and I jokingly said that if I didn't come back to call the authorities.

I was surprisingly calm on the train, I charged my phone and tried to read... unsuccessfully so I just looked out the window.

I was supposed to get off at the main, new, train station, but unfortunately my train didn't stop there. "It's only a 10 minute walk" the woman at the ticket counter said at the time.

So I texted Robby to ask him if he'd come meet me there or if I should meet him a the "new" station.
"Meet me at the New station" he texted back.

I walked over to the new station (2 minutes not 10, probably my mistake in understanding the British accent at the ticket desk).
I walked into the main atrium and had the urge to text him that I was there. I slowly turned on the spot looking for him and saw him standing and staring intently at the passengers coming through the turnstiles.
He was pretty much as I had seen on MSN. He was taller than I expected. And his hair was a dirty blond speckled with gray, (he's only a few years older than me). It just proves that we met on MSN young and should have met in person sooner.

I walk up to him, and he immediately recognizes me.

-Now I thought about this constantly on the train. What was I going to do when I met him?? Hug? Kiss? Be distant and just say hello and start walking?-

I didn't need to think twice.
He opened his arms three meters wide and bear hugged me. It was a fantastic sensation.

**I have to make a side note about hugs. I love hugs. Hugs can be entirely sensual if they're done properly. This was not one of those sensual hugs. A guy has to know how to wrap his arms under a woman's arms, up around her ribs and waist, one hand high on her back and one almost on her tummy. Tight but not too tight, a crescendo of just the right squeeze, that can last an eternity. This was a friendly hug. A nice welcoming hug. It felt good because it was him.

We said our hellos, embarrassed to see each other, finally after so long. We giggled and talked and walked. He gave me a flirty push at which I said "don't push or I'll start pushing back". And he (unfortunately) didn't push me again.

We had a coffee while we talked easily about stuff in general and about what we were going to do for the day. We had the WHOLE day and I kinda wished I hadn't booked friends that evening which put me on a train at 6:00pm. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We walked over to the little tourist information centre where we gathered information on galleries and things to do. We knew that we needed something to keep us occupied at least for a few hours so that we didn't have to face each other and just talk. It would have been awkward.

We decided on the city museum.
We got utterly lost trying to find it. He had never been to Birmingham and was trying to use a map unsuccessfully. We laughed at our total lack of direction, knocking shoulders occasionally, (to knock each other off balance), but that was the extent of our physical contact.

We finally found it and spent a good part of the morning in the Egyptian part, looking at their relatively scant displays on mummies and other such things. The place was pretty much empty, there was only a group of young school children there.

We headed down to the painting section and we wandered the rooms until I found a guard. I had seen a poster for an Edward Burne Jones show, so I asked her about it on the off chance that we might catch it "do you have any Pre-Raphaelite paintings?" She looked at me inquisitively and told me to go through to the green room. We sauntered over and I was blown away. The most amazing collection of Burne Jones Paintings I have ever seen (which isn't many). It was spectacular. I was on the verge of hyperventilation. Robby could see that I was in Awe and came to stand next to me in front of the biggest painting (below). I was in heaven. I looked at the painting, looked at him, smiled, looked back at the painting, looked back at him... and on and on. I couldn't get my bearings. We were almost completely alone. Just the two of us and these amazing paintings.

thinking

My mind is torturing me. I can't stop thinking about him and what I want him to do to me. My brain won't switch off, and it keeps going back there. My stomach jumps every time I think about how he feels when I tell him. He has a girlfriend. I know he wants me to tell him. There are two sides to every coin.

Guilt
Guilt
Guilt

Is it really fair to either of us.... or them?

Do I care?

In some deep dark place I might.

It's slowly driving me....

Quickie

I've been online since he left. My boyfriend went on holiday yesterday with a friend of his.

I've stripped and pushed my fingers into my wet pussy more than three times today. I woke up dripping this morning. My panties were rubbing against my clit all night. I decided to sexually starve myself all morning. I didn't let myself cum. It heightens all my senses, I feel my tight jeans rub against me with every step. Riding my bike makes the seat push lightly into me. I could get down on my knees and beg to be fucked in that state.

I could have easily jumped onto my co-worker this morning. He's hot. He turns me on. Just about anything turns me on when I'm like this though.

I saw Sgar on msn last night and this eve. I got off both times. He has an amazing cock. I much prefer Robby's, but it's hot none the less.
I talk to Sgar in Italian and it's a challenge to describe what I'd do to him in Italian. He suggested tying me up. I would love to be tied up. Having him force his cock into my mouth. Not being in control. Being fucked from behind with my hands tied behind my back. There are so many possibilities. I want to try them all.

I like the idea of being tied to a chair. My legs spread, tied to each leg of the chair, and my hands tied behind the back. A cock being forced into my mouth while I drip all my juices onto the chair and my saliva runs down my chin and onto my tits. Another guy licking my pussy, not being able to move or thrust, totally helpless.

Robby

Well, I did promise a post on Robby.

Robby was one of my first acquaintances on msn. The one that I spoke the most to and the cutest. The others didn't really want to talk much, which was often fine with me.
Robby was fun to play with. I mentioned word games, music quizzes and games in general. We generally enjoyed each others company.

Recently, lets say the past year, we had been toying with the idea of seeing each-other. It started as a kind of joke. You know, comments like "sooo.... when you gonna come visit? ;)". Then one day he sent me an email. It sounded kind of desperate. It said something to the effect of: "we have to meet up before we get too old". That did it for me. I started looking into visiting London. I have friends there. Flights are cheap. I asked him if he would meet me if I came. He agreed. I asked him how long we could have together, he said two days and a night maybe. I bought the tickets telling him the time frame. I convinced my boyfriend not to come.... not an easy task.

Finally the weeks were getting closer to my flight date. I get a text from him telling me to check my email. And when I did, It was painful. He couldn't logistically meet up with me. I didn't understand. We spoke on msn to get thing straight. He said that it would be too difficult for different reasons: girlfriend, work, workmates. He just couldn't organize it.
"it's just destined to be this way" was his last sentence.

I was upset. I couldn't think of anything else.

I NEEDED to see him. After 7 or 8 years of knowing this guy, never really seeing him, speaking to him only once or twice. He was becoming a kind of "actor" or "idol" for me. I didn't know if he really existed.

I fought the urge to text him every day to try to convince him. I knew that it wasn't just a logistics problem, but that he was getting cold feet.
I ended up sending him a long polite email explaining that I understood his fears but that I was being stupider than him. Meeting a complete stranger, in a foreign country and not telling anyone, was far more dangerous for a woman.

He texted me the day before my flight to say that he'd meet me on Monday. I was beaming, I couldn't stop smiling.

I don't know what I was expecting. I didn't really even know what I wanted to happen. I was just happy that we had the chance to meet up.

I'll save "the meeting" for my next post. I hate reading uber long posts.

Balance

I have decided. I'm absolutely positive about this. Please correct me if I'm wrong.

A couple has to love each other equally to be able to have a lasting relationship that is worth anything.

I've realized that more than 90% of my long lasting relationships (which aren't many) haven't been totally balanced. There is usually one person involved who is "more in love" than the other. Sometimes it's me, sometimes it's him.

I'm coming to realize that a true "soul mate" is someone you love unconditionally and who loves you unconditionally. I also know that it is a pretty rare thing to find.

To be honest. I don't know what I have now. I'm guessing that there's a kind of equality because it has lasted so long. I think it may just be out of habit or we're just used to each other. There's love but it's not that passionate unconditional love.

A psychologist once told me that "the man you marry isn't always the one you love passionately". That just sounds sad to me.

back to the beginning

day 3--- the next weeks.

I built up a pretty good list of guys that I would play with. Most of them were British. Some were completely strange, but lots were just playful and fun. I would log on when my boyfriend was out of the house and I would strip for one boy after another. It was always a game. Sometimes two guys at the same time.

Simon says was a good game to play.

boy: "Simon says take of your shirt"

Cande: takes off shirt

boy: "simon says put your hand down your pants"

Cande: puts hand down pants trying not to play

boy: "play with your pussy please"

Cande: stays still

Such a tease.


I was always looking for my favourite man, let's call him Robby. I couldn't get enough of him. he made me laugh and he wanted to tease me intellectually more than anything. We played word games and music quizzes with the occasional strip down and hard good playing, which was always hot.
We still chat and play... it's been 7 or 8 years... and I will post another blog just on Robby.

There were other guys that I loved playing with. There was pboro, chicken, sgar, visith, james, not to mention the old flame that I slept with when back in Canada, DD. I stripped, played with myself, and took pictures of myself for all of them, each one seperately sometimes fulfilling private desires.

I will have some pictures to post soon.

10 years of my life

I need to get something straight: I have been with the same guy for over 10 years. He's Italian. I kinda ended up living with him by chance. It wasn't really a choice. We had a scary, hellish first year, but we learned to love each other, like an arranged marriage. There are times when I think to myself that I love him, I can't live without him. Other times when I jut wish he'd disappear.

The sex is good when we have it. It's very traditional most of the time. But I love a little pain. I like the thrill of being tied up, being teased. And he doesn't give that to me.

I find myself looking at other guys. I fantasize about other men. I have cheated on my man. With an old flame from Canada.

I feel like I'm running out of time for this kind of thing.

Do I feel guilty?
Sometimes.

Should I go ahead with fantasies?
Probably not.

Will I go ahead with my fantasies?
Probably at some point.

Hot and Bothered

There are a lot of things that turn me on. Summer is one of the highest on my list. It must be the heat. Hot sticky, sweaty sex is the best sex on the planet.
It's not just the heat though. It's a combination of the clothes that I get to wear, tight things, really short skirts or shorts, bathing suits, bikinis and the days are longer. Winter is just too dark and depressing for sex I find. I much prefer it in Summer.

During summer I've been so horny I've contemplated walking into a store with a short skirt on, and bending over in front of some good looking stranger hoping he'd put his hand up my skirt. Wishing he'd slide his finger into my pussy. Some of my msn guys have begged me to do it, dared me. When I tried I couldn't find anyone that I wanted or the store was too empty. I even tried it at a concert. But everyone (including myself) was too busy watching the amazing concert going on.

Once it happened to me. I got felt up on a subway in Mexico city while traveling. I think it was an old guy who did it. The guy just fondled my ass in jeans. I was pretty angry. But I admit that if it had been a younger good looking guy I may not have minded so much. I have fantasized about it often enough.

I fuck myself daily aka IFMD

I go through periods where I fuck myself up to 3 times a day. I have to admit that I love my body. I've always loved it.

I think the first time I noticed that I liked my body was when a boyfriend once said that it was "impossible to turn yourself on". I didn't say anything at the time, but I disagreed. I think of my body when I masturbate. I don't often think about other people.

I like to fantasize about myself in tight clothing. If I have tight clothing to put on while I masturbate it's even better. I like to think about myself being rammed by a guy with a big cock, but I concentrate on the myself part. I like to watch myself in a mirror, I like to watch myself on video, I like to take pictures of myself and fuck myself while looking at them. I turn myself on. I guess I'm narcissistic. I'm not sure it's a bad thing. I'm not sure it's a good thing either.

I even took a video of myself fucking a bedpost once.

I like to think that other people enjoy it too so I send these pictures and videos to other people and I video chat.

Conclusion: narcissism could be the reason why I like to strip online.

Day 2

I certainly got more. And I couldn't get enough. I logged on time and time again looking for the same guy but never found him again. I found a James who was almost as good, He too told me what I wanted to hear, except he wanted to see pictures of me in exchange. We exchanged msn addresses and I would send him pictures of my wet panties. But I wanted something more daring and more racy.

The next time I logged on to Justchat I decided that I would just blurt out that I wanted to cam with someone. I can't remember if he grabbed me or if I grabbed him, but no information was passed. I just asked, if he was cute and if he had a cam. The answer was yes to both. I couldn't believe it, he was HOT, very sexy, my age or a year or two older. We flirted fast and just kept coming back to each other. We would play games, stripping games. And I would get so high after every metting. I would feel like I was on top of the world.

We Wouldn't really have cybersex, but I would get dripping wet by just stripping and playing with myself on the camera, pulling my clothes off slowly, showing my ass, my pussy and my tits to him. When he wasn't on I would try to find others to fill my needs.

I found some of the strangest men, one with a severe foot and shoe fetish. He wanted me to show him all the high heel shoes I had, pumps, boots, sandals, everything. He had his own high heel shoe that he would masturbate with, rubbing his hard cock between the sole and the heel.

There was another guy who was really sexy, he had a really nice cock and we had good times while his wife was out. He was hot, but as time went by he got stranger and stranger, asking for things that I couldn't (and wouldn't) do. Things like pissing and shitting into a bucket. I refused, and he kept asking. Then I got the impression he had a weakness for young girls because he wanted to know if a student of mine was hot. When I said that she was only 13, he said “Ok, but is she hot?” I cut off all contact from there on with him.