The Dogging Diaries - VIII free porn video

[Author's Note: The only way I know if people are reading these diaries is if they leave a review or send me an email. I'd certainly prefer both and answer all reader email. Thanks! Alexandra] It took me a while to begin writing in my diary again. They say rape changes a person. I know it changed me. It changed my relationship with Ryan completely. He was there for me, comforting me, helping me, but things were never the same after that. What was this beautiful, amazing love became distorted. I think he looked at me differently. In fact, I know he did. My physical injuries healed over time. It took a while. It wasn't mentioned in the diary entry, but my lovely new nose was broken during the assault. In the process of getting it reset, Ryan thought it would be wise to get a cranioplastly, which for those that don't know, reshapes your forehead into a more feminine shape. I ended up getting that procedure done as well. The whole process took weeks of recovery and during that time Ryan suggested to me that I should leave my job. I talked to him at length about my work and he made the case that I was better off without it; that I should focus on healing with him and being with him. At the time it seemed like a dream scenario. Here was this incredible guy who clearly cared for me, a man of means and no worries in the world, asking me to be with him, telling me I'd be taken care of. We discussed it a couple of times and then we made the decision to pull the plug. I still wasn't healed yet, so I resigned over the phone, something I regret to this day. A person should have the decency to resign in person. In fairness, they weren't thrilled with me at my job and given the time needed to heal, they might have fired me anyway, but they hadn't yet and who knows how that would have turned out? So I quit. And I healed. And when I did I looked better than I ever had before. I was 5'9" and weighed 125 pounds. My face had been reshaped, sculpted even, into a picture of femininity. My forehead had been reduced. My nose had been thinned twice, my lips were bee-stung and pretty, my cheekbones naturally high. I had beautiful DD melons that could not have been firmer or perkier. My waist was thin, my hips and ass round and fuckable. I had good curves. It seemed that I finally was the total package. Even I, my own worst critic by far, could see that I was pretty, curvaceous and sexy. And all of that beauty was going to waste. After the assault, I wasn't interested in doing much of anything, certainly not sex or exploring my sexuality. According to Ryan, I became "frigid." Here's an excerpt from an entry in June. "... I really just want him to hold me. He keeps telling me that our intimacy will help me and maybe it will. I'm just not in the mood. Can't the guy just pull me close to him until I'm ready?" And I wasn't ready. So I tended to the house and tended to myself, focusing on healing from within. I cried alone a lot. Going through what I went through is, in my opinion, a no-win situation. It changes your viewpoint on things in life forever. Even Ryan, who I loved and who was kind, when I looked at him, sometimes I would begin to think about what I would do if he hit me or forced himself on me. What could I have done? He would have overpowered me. He could have beaten the shit out of me. He never would have, but those are the things you think about. You question people. You question yourself. It took me months to be intimate with him again and it caused a lot of problems. Even when I thought I was over the hump, I wasn't. Diary Entry: July 2008 We had it out again tonight. That makes six times in the last seven days or something. All of these fights. I can't take it. I don't blame the guy when I think about it. I really don't. He signed up for a good-time girl and he got Debbie Downer. I totally understand. I just have a major block on this right now. I used to be so open and free and sexual, to the point where I was pretty much up for getting fucked every single second of every single day. And now, I just can't seem to do it. I feel like my pussy is dirty or something. I don't know. I need to see somebody. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: July 2008 Well, I did it. It came from a good place. Ryan and I kissed like we hadn't kissed in months and then one thing led to another and he carried me up to the bedroom and laid me down and we fooled around and then he made love to me. I tried to stop a couple of times, but he pressed and I didn't want to deny him. I have a lot of emotions running through me right now - not all of them bad - and for that I am happy. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: July 2008 Big fight tonight. Evidently I'm a whore and I wanted to be raped. That's what he said to me. Said I seemingly had no problem being with other guys, but that I'm not interested in being with him because I didn't want to make love tonight. Is he fucking serious? End Diary Entry Diary Entry: July 2008 This is becoming a pattern. Tonight he threw his wine in my face because I stopped kissing him and asked him to hold me. He told me he wants his Kristy back, whatever that means. Fuck it. I know what it means. He wants the slutty me back I guess. You want me back - how about you fucking read my diary and see how bad you really want me? End Diary Entry Diary Entry: August 2008 We went at it again two nights ago and tonight with almost no conversation in between. Same problem. "Let me make love to you." "Can't I get a blowjob?" At one point he was yelling at me because I haven't been giving him the courtesy of at least a handjob to release his daily stress. What does the guy want from me? Does he just want me to spread my legs and take it? I'm just not ready. The whole night sucked. My life sucks. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: August 2008 I tried my best tonight to make Ryan happy. I put on a sexy black dress and had a nice dinner waiting for him when he got home. We didn't talk much during dinner. He was still pretty grumpy. But I put a smile on my face and let him take me to bed and fuck me. That's what it felt like to me - getting fucked. I definitely don't think I was made love to. He fucked me and came inside me and then I got up to clean myself up and he was asleep when I came back. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: August 2008 Ryan told me tonight that I'm not the girl he fell in love with. I'm not sure I've ever cried so hard in my life. Am I different? I know the sex part of my life is different, but am I different? Am I not nice? Am I not caring? Not fun to be around? Not sexy? Not cute? Not smart? I'm at a total loss and I feel like I'm losing him. Maybe I've already lost him. That's the part that hurts so bad. I have this pain in my chest that won't go away. I feel like my heart has broken. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: August 2008 He told me he thinks I should move out. That things are not the same anymore. I can't do that. I can't lose him. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: August 2008 I can't shut myself off anymore. I have to go on living. Get some rape counseling or something in the process, but I have to go on living. I can't be like this anymore. I need to find myself. Find the reasons and things that made me the person I am. Why did Ryan fall in love with me? I was sexy. I was always in a good mood. I was funny and sunny. I could carry on a conversation about a lot of things. I was caring and kind. I loved sucking cock and getting fucked. I liked to party. I was easy. I was easy to be around. I wasn't the fucking bummer girl that I've become. I was a fucking shameless whore with a smile on my face. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: September 2008 Yesterday was the day I was supposed to move out. The day I was supposed to lose Ryan forever. I'm still fucking here. I got myself up yesterday morning and went for a run. I got my ass out of bed, tucked my clitty and slipped into a sexy cotton g-string and a pair of tight, gray yoga pants and running shoes. I added a tight (everything is tight on my breasts) Nike sports bra, tied my hair in a pony and did my makeup. Then I went out and ran six fucking miles. I came back and showered and took the other Mercedes into the center and got a spray tan. Now I have a nicely bronzed body and a sexy little tan line from the thong I wore. I had to wait until the tan set before I could wear any tight clothes so I went through my closet and tossed out anything even remotely drab, comfy or complacent. What remains are club dresses, short skirts, tight blouses, lots of lingerie, panties and bras and a bunch of sexy mother-fucking high heel shoes. I tossed the great majority of my makeup and went out and got all new product. Lastly, the salon - where I got a cut and a color that turns heads. No more "rape me" blonde, I got a dark cherry color that is anything but subtle without looking foolish. It's fucking sexy and better for my complexion, even with the tan. This is brunette sex bomb hair all the way. I got home and gave myself two enemas to make sure my cunt was honeyed and clean. Then I made up my face, smoking out my eyes with catlike precision. I used plenty of glitter on my lashes and plum lips. I slipped into a black g-string, black fence net thigh highs, 5" black Pleaser fuck me pumps and put black electrical tape over my nipples. I skipped the bra, because I wanted my tits on full display for Ryan. Are you going to give this up? Better think twice. Then I added a black ribbon choker, teased the fuck out of my hair, opened some wine and did a couple of lines from my still existing coke stash. Then I waited. Ryan came home, saw me, saw the outfit, saw the wine, saw the coke, had a sip, did a line and then bent me over the couch and fucked me deep and hard. I didn't cum, but he did and there was no fucking way I was going to let him go soft and have that be it, so when he slid out of me I dropped to my knees and stuffed his cock into my mouth, lovingly sucking him until his dick could reload and reharden. I loved being on my knees for this man. I used to fucking love it. And now I better love it again. I looked up at him with his dick in my mouth and he smiled at me. A smile I hadn't seen in a long time. When he was ready again I spun around and got on all fours and offered my pussy to him. He took it, for about 30 minutes this time, fucking me long and deep, reaching around me to play with my DD tits. Finally I felt him harden that extra bit and I reached between my legs to push his balls into his center and feel his payload dump deep within me. We collapsed in a heap. "Where did that come from?" he asked after catching his breath. "A good place," was all I said. We partied for about 7 hours after that. Drinking wine, listening to Led Zeppelin, doing lines - I gave him a lingering blowjob around 11:00. We finally went to bed around 3:00AM. I slept in my thigh highs and heels, just in case he woke in the night and looked at me. I wanted him to see how sexy I could be. We were both pretty banged up this morning, but he fucked me again before he left for work. My cunt and thighs are actually sore. I have a similar day planned today. Exercise, get sexy, get fucked. I'm not going down without a fight. End Diary Entry Well, I admire my spirit. Re-reading that entry, I can totally understand where my head was at, but at the same time, I wasn't in any emotional shape to just dive into having sex all the time again. I wasn't doing it to keep living there. I know that for a fact, because it never ended up in an entry and I don't ever remember having a woe-is- me attitude of "where the fuck am I going to live?" I wasn't desperate for a home, I was desperate for him. I needed Ryan and it's pretty clear to me that I would have done anything for him once I got to this point of throwing caution to the wind. Diary Entry: September 2008 I greeted Ryan last night in a red cotton miniskirt, black thigh highs and 6" red, platform pumps with ankle straps. I had iced my nipples down when I heard him pull in to the driveway so they were standing at attention when my man got home. He didn't waste any time taking my skirt off and before long he was licking my pussy and getting it ready for him. I grabbed his cock and got it hard for me and then he plunged right in. He gave me a good fuck for about 20 minutes before he came inside me. He fucked me again right before we fell asleep. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: September 2008 What a day! Ryan took my shopping and spent a fortune on me. Tahari, Gucci, the whole deal. We went to a sex shop and got a bunch of new toys. I got a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes that were like $800 or something. I blew him in the car on the way home to say "thank you" like a good girl should. I'm truly blessed. End Diary Entry Diary Entry: September 2008 What a fucked up night. As I write this it's 4:00 AM. Ryan took me out to dinner. He said he wanted to show me off, so he picked out my outfit - short, tight Nicole Miller little black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline that put my tits on display, no bra, tiny black g-string, black ultrasheer thigh highs with a seam up the back, 5" black peep toe pumps and a black ribbon choker. He told me to tease out my hair and that really any amount of makeup wasn't enough, so I went nuts on my eyes, cheeks and lips. Lots of bronzer and too much glitter. He said I looked perfect. I was certainly a painted whore. We played a game in the car where I took his cock out and rubbed it the whole way without making him cum. By the time we got to [Boston wine bar] his sex drive was on overload, which is evidently just the way he wanted it. We started with Veuve Cliquot champagne at a little corner table overlooking the street. The bubbly was delicious and went right to my head. Before long we moved on to Pavillon Rouge, the second wine from famed Chateau Margaux. Unbelievably good red wine. I was having a blast, all dolled up and pretty, feeling sexy, staring at my beautiful boyfriend. Ryan ordered a cheese plate and we nibbled and talked and flirted with one another and it felt so fucking good to be out in a vanilla social setting with my man. It had been so long since I had been out. It felt so good to know that I looked good enough to be in a tight, short, head-turning outfit in a "regular" place without having the fear of being "made" as a tgirl. Euphoria. The feeling I've been waiting for since I started this journey. I've never wanted to be a hot tgirl. I've always wanted to be a hot chick. I felt so good, looking down at my new Louboutin shoes, their trademark red soles calling attention to me and their sky-high heels. So fucking sexy. And that's exactly the way I felt. Ryan had ordered us another bottle of wine and I was getting soused and just enjoying my time back in society. In this case, upscale society. And I was rocking the cocktail dress well. I was facing Ryan, who was seated in a corner of the bar area, so I could only see him but he could see the whole place. Evidently there was a man at the bar who had looked over at us a few times while we were sitting there. Ryan told me this was happening and told me not to look. He wanted me to tease the guy, since our voyeur could only see the back of me but could certainly see my legs and heels from his vantage point. "Take a sip of wine ... and as you do, let your dress ride up high enough to expose your stocking tops." Who was I to argue? Our hero wasn't looking right when I did it, but he noticed shortly thereafter. "Is he looking?" I giggled. I was getting drunk and between Ryan's cock in the car and this new game I was becoming horny as hell. "Oh, he's looking," Ryan said. I think he likes what he sees. I smiled. "What's more important to me is you like what you see." "I sure do," he said, smiling back at me. "Reach down and pretend you're fixing something on your shoe," he said. "As you do, make sure your shoulders are back so he gets a full silhouette, and then let your dress ride higher. Then turn and check out our boy." I did and when I looked it was clear that we had the full attention of our guy. He was looking at us rather than facing the bar. I admit, it felt good to be noticed in that way. Tom was mature, not old, but not a kid. Maybe mid 40s, with dark, full hair and blue eyes. Slim, with a sharp nose. He was wearing a navy suit with a light blue shirt and a red tie. The guy had style. Still, I really just wanted to spend time with my guy. But this little game was making him happy and if he wanted to play it I wasn't going to stop him. I love seeing him smile. Before long another bottle of Rouge arrived, compliments of our friend at the bar. The whole thing was classic. This was a $200 bottle of wine coming from this guy. The waitress popped the cork, we both had a sip and then Ryan raised his glass to our friend. I excused myself to use the ladies room, and as I did Ryan told me I should make sure to walk slow and seductively. He really wanted me to drive this guy wild. I did and then slipped into the ladies room and sat to pee. [Boston wine bar] is a bistro type of place with locking doors on a bathroom built for one. To be honest, I thought I had locked the door - I always lock the door in a situation like that - but evidently it either didn't work or didn't catch because next thing I knew I was pulling up my panties, the door opened and there was Ryan, sliding in unannounced and hopefully unseen. I smiled at him and was about to protest - I was having such a good time and I didn't want to get in trouble - but I could tell by look on his face that he meant business and I should know my role. Ryan took me in his arms and kissed me deeply. I swooned and before long I felt his hands under my dress and felt my panties being pulled down. It was on and I wasn't going to stop it, frantically undoing his belt, button and zipper and taking his already hard cock in my hands. He pushed me to the sink and slid behind me, lifting my dress and driving his tongue into my pussy. We had no lube but he certainly didn't care, spitting on his hand and slicking his cock with it before pushing against my hungry cunt. I bore down to give him open access and his cock slid to the hilt as I moaned in ecstasy. This wasn't a lovemaking session, it was an urgent bathroom fuck and Ryan wanted it hard and fast so I bent at the waist, bowed my head and let him take my pussy at his pace. All of the foreplay in the car and in the bar had pushed him to the edge and it wasn't long before I felt his dick harden just that little bit extra and then two strokes later he moaned into my ear and I felt his delicious cock pumping its payload deep inside me. I must have been a whorish picture, my dress rolled up around my waist, my panties locked at my spread knees, my red-soled spike heels, all the while his cum coating my just-used ass outside and in. He pulled my hair, bringing my head back to him and stuck his tongue down my throat. Then he zipped up and left. I cleaned myself the best I could, touched up my makeup and headed back to the table, glad to have gotten Ryan off and happy we hadn't been spotted. I left the bathroom and came around the corner towards our table. Our friend from the bar was there talking to Ryan. In the course of getting fucked in the bathroom, I had completely forgotten about him. I walked up to the table and he offered me my chair back, sliding a third one over from a nearby table. "Kristy, this is Tom," said Ryan, introducing us. I said "hello" and he said "hi." I was still flushed from the fucking. "Tom was wondering if we wanted to go back to his place," explained Ryan. He was looking at me funny. "Have a drink. Maybe do some blow." So that was it. Ryan and I had never done a lot of coke together. Sure we had had some on a few random nights, but my stash was dwindling and he had only ever brought some home one time. The whole thing seemed a little out of the ordinary and I was definitely confused as to why-this, why-now. "It's up you, honey," I said. I wanted Tom to make sure he knew Ryan and I were together. Ryan paused for a moment and then answered, "I think we should." "That settles it then," said Tom. "I'll go get us a taxi." Tom excused himself from the table. "Are you sure about this?" I asked. "Yeah, why?" "I don't know. We're having fun, a nice night - and now there's just this guy hanging around." "I just want to keep the party going," Ryan explained. Tom was back and said the taxi would be there in 5 minutes. We emptied the bottle of wine into three glasses and each drank it down. Once we were done we went out to the street to wait for the cab. Tom had a cigarette and offered us each one. We both declined. The ride to Tom's was uneventful small talk. It turns out our boy did pretty well for himself. I missed the address when he gave it to the cabbie but I recognized the streets on the ride and before long we were in front of a Boston brownstone in one of the nicest areas of town. We took the elevator up and it opened into a gorgeous three floor condo with all the trimmings - hardwoods, skylights, modern design and feel. The classic well-to-do bachelor pad I suppose. Tom went to his wine fridge to get us a drink while Ryan and I took a quick look around and made ourselves comfortable. Tom was back with the wine before long. "Pavillon Rouge is nice, but I prefer the real thing," he said, holding a bottle of 1995 Chateau Margaux. Amazing wine. Probably $500 bucks a bottle. He poured the wine, disappeared again and came back with a good-sized baggie of coke. "This is the real deal," he said. "About as pure as you can get." I hadn't done much cocaine recently, but my mouth still watered. Tom chopped out several good sized lines on a 12" x 12" mirror he seemed to keep for just the right occasion. I say this because he also had three perfectly good (and clean) straws ready to go. "Ladies first," he said, gesturing to me. I picked up a straw, put it to my nose and did half the first line with my left and then the other half with my right, taking the powder deep into my nose as the familiar feeling washed over me. I looked up when I was done. "There's plenty," Tom said. "Don't be shy." I did a second line and then a third before offering the plate to Tom. He deferred to Ryan who did a couple of lines. Finally Tom did as well. He was right - it was good cocaine - I could feel it making my body buzz. And so it went. Sipping wine, doing more lines, talking, laughing. Tom had made his money in real estate. I don't remember much else about him, other than he seemed to have plenty of money and plenty of blow. I'm not sure exactly how much time went by - a couple of hours anyway. We were all getting pretty fucked up, and when that happens, the topic inevitably turns to sex. Somehow blowjobs came up, through some story that one of them was telling. It must have been Tom telling the story because - I remember this - Ryan made some offhand comment about how "Kristy gives great blowjobs." Tom picked up on it and was evidently interested. The whole thing was fucked up. I remember being able to think straight enough to know that this wasn't going in a good direction. I love sex and can talk about it all day, but I was on a date with my boyfriend and didn't particularly want to get into a sex conversation with some other dude. But it kept going in that direction. I didn't know (and still don't know) what the hell had gotten into Ryan. We spent most of our nights together in, so it's not as if we had this long track record or anything, but he always seemed like a protective type of guy and he loves me. But it kept going down the sex road. Ryan was doing lines and talking about my tits and the sex we've had and then slurs "It's OK love, he knows you're a tgirl." What? Like where the fuck did that come from - and where the fuck was I when this little piece of information was being discussed? I didn't know what to say, so I just brushed it off the best I could. I was pretty fucked up at the time, so it's not like I was mortified - I was just trying to go with the flow - but I remember that comment bugged me. Then Tom started talking about how exotic I look and how being a tgirl only make me more exotic. I buried my head into another couple of lines of coke. I was gone. Ryan was fucked up. We all were. Ryan kept babbling about what a good girl I was in bed. Whatever. Tom was interested. I could tell, even in my drug-filled fog. Then Ryan unzipped his pants and took out his dick. Bad news. "Ryan, honey, not now," I tried to get through to him, but he seemed pretty fucked up. "Show him, baby. Show him how good you suck my dick." I had been kneeling on the floor doing the coke and sipping my while the guys were in a couch. I got up to leave. "Ryan, honey. We should really get going," I said. Then I apologized to Tom. "I'm sorry. He's normally not like this." I went over to try and get Ryan up. He grabbed at my hair and tried pushing my face down into his lap. I pulled away and he laughed. "Ryan baby, no. We have to go." I looked at Tom, who looked on, clearly amused at the scene before him. "Suck my dick," Ryan tried again. "No honey. Not right now. Let's get going." I was just about to ask for Tom's help when some kind of switch flipped. "Suck my fucking dick, bitch!" shouted Ryan. Now he was going to yell at me? I was stunned. I looked at Tom, not sure of what to do. Ryan looked at me. His eyes were open. He was completely stewed, I could see that, but he seemed coherent enough to know what he wanted. I looked at Tom, not sure whether to blow my boyfriend in his house or what. He just shrugged. "Suck it!" Ryan shouted again. If this was a bad situation before, it had just gotten worse. I didn't know what to do. Ryan seemed awake. Tom wasn't any help. Finally, I got back down on my knees in between the couch and the coffee table and took Ryan's cock in my mouth. It was limp, but still clearly felt good, because Ryan moaned as I did it. "See that," he said to Tom. "My girl likes to suck cock, don't you?" I looked up at him and mumbled "mmm-hmmm" with a mouthful of his limp dick. I sucked him for a few minutes but there was no way he was going to get hard after all the drinks and the coke. Some guys can and some guys can't, that's just the way it is. In Ryan's case, it wasn't going to happen. I took him out of my mouth. "Ryan honey, we should get going." He looked at me and I could see there was anger or something in his eyes. Embarrassment? I don't know. "She doesn't want to suck my dick anymore," he said to Tom. Then he looked at me. "Do you want to suck his?" Are you fucking kidding me right now? "No Ryan, honey. Let's go." I tried to lift him back up. "No," he said. "Show him." "No, Ryan, let's go honey." "Fucking show him, Kristy!" he yelled. "Suck him." My face went red. What a fucking disaster. I didn't know whether he really wanted this or what. "Suck his dick," he said. My heart broke. I looked at Tom, hoping for some help but all the fucking guy did was unzip his pants and push them to his knees. His stiff prick bobbed at attention. I looked back at Ryan and he glared at me. Fine. Whatever. I shuffled over in front of Tom and eyed his 7" cock for a second. Then I closed my eyes, prayed I was doing the right thing and took his cock into my mouth. Tom moaned and I felt his prick harden a little more. "See that?" Ryan said. "Told you." Tom moaned again and then managed "You were right." I wanted to get this over with so we could get the fuck out of there, so I skipped any loving caresses of his dick and just concentrated on getting the job done, taking Tom's cock deep down my throat and using my hands on each thrust. He responded well to my methods; moaning, gripping the couch, cooing at me. "She feels so good," said Tom. I took him deep down my throat again. "Look at me," he commanded. I didn't want to. But he told me to again and that time I did. I gave him the dominant status he wanted when I looked up at him through doe eyes, his hard cock buried in my throat. Then he looked at Ryan. "Can I fuck her?" I moaned into his cock in a panic and protest. No fucking chance. "Yeah, man, you should definitely fuck her." Yeah man? Are we hippies now? Did I miss the Bob Marley joints? What the fuck is going on? Tom pulled my mouth off his dick and got up, presumably to get a rubber or some lube or something. That was my chance. "Ryan, get the fuck up - now. I don't want to fuck this guy. Let's go." "Kristy," he said. "Fucking chill out. He's a good guy. Show him a good time. Here," he said reaching for the coke, "do some more blow." "I don't want any more blow. I want to get the fuck out of here." "Stay, Kristy. Let him fuck you. You deserve it." I had, and still have, no idea what that meant. Tom came back in the room with some lube. He looked at me and I looked at him. Fuck this. I bent down and did two big lines of coke. Then I got up off the floor, dropped my dress and slid my panties down. I stood in front of this man, this stranger, and realized he was only the second person to see my new breasts, my new face, my feminine figure - and my little clit. "That's my girl," applauded Ryan. I smiled at Ryan - the fucking idiot - and Tom slid his pants off and held his pole up. He wanted me on top of him? No fucking way. There was no way I was going to straddle that cock on the couch, my new tits grinding into his face, our mouths close to a kiss. If I was going to do this, it was going to be a fuck and nothing more. I grabbed Tom by the hand and pulled him off the couch. I took his place on it, offering my ass to him. I felt the familiar grease hit my cunt lips and his stick pressed against my hole. Then he pushed in with a grunt. Ryan reached over and tweaked one of my nipples. At that time, I wanted to slap him away from me for letting it get this far, but mainly I just wanted the whole night to end so I let him play with my tit while Tom pounded me. I was a million miles away while this man fucked me. That's what it was - a fuck, by some stranger. Somehow I had become an open hole for this guy while my boyfriend looked on. To be fair, he fucked me good, hard and fast. It was a true fuck. I was his true whore. I barely felt it. I remember him cumming in my ass with a groan. I remember kicking off my shoes to walk to the bathroom because I didn't want to convey a level of sluttiness or submissiveness to this man. I wasn't his and somehow by taking my shoes off, rather than doing my walk of shame in 5" heels allowed me - in my mind anyway - to take some of my dignity back. I will attempt to forget I was still wearing thigh highs when I made that walk. I cleaned myself up, pissed that I hadn't taken any of my clothes with me, came back naked into the room, got dressed, managed to get Ryan up and got the fuck out of there. We caught a cab back to the Mercedes and somehow Ryan managed to get us home. He kept telling me it was hot. I'll be interested to see if he still feels that way tomorrow. End Diary Entry Please leave a review or drop me a line! xoxo Alexandra Moore