Spreading around my sexual favors

So many ups and downs... so many twists and turns... and more to come.

I started writing one post along the way.
And then stopped as things started changing and evolving.
So maybe a summary will have to do.

Daddy sees me as a sort of "sexual Florence-Nightingale-to-the-world" (his term). I was created to give sexual pleasure. Generously. He really believes this. He thinks it's a crime and a waste for me not to use my talents broadly.

Which is all well and good. And sometimes I almost believe him. Almost. He knows I don't though. not really. And while I do go through these horribly horny spells, when it comes down to it I hold back. Even with these two old friends/lovers who have wanted to have sex again. I turned them down. Partly because I don't want to mess up what we've managed to achieve with our friendships, after some rough spots connected with our former sexual relationships. But partly because I felt so filled with the sadist that I felt I would be only half there with either of the other guys.

Meanwhile, the fiend keeps trying to connect me up with people, without fully registering the possible complications if I end up dating any of them. One of the guys he has in mind he met through business, and has a house that's visible from mine. Which would mean the guy would see Daddy's car in front of my house from time to time. Not cool if he and I were dating.

It's odd, you know. I feel fine with him bringing over who knows what sex fiends to do who knows what awful things to me while he watches and enjoys. But I'm really struggling with the idea of meeting some guys with whom I'll probably enjoy spending time, and with whom I'll probably enjoy having sex - precisely because Daddy does really want me to have sex with them. Because he feels this is what I was meant to do.

It does sound weird, doesn't it?

It's weird.
It's hard.
It's a challenge.

Which so far I have been failing.

Saturday evening, the sadist surprised me by inviting me up to hang out at a bar in his town. [Here were a lot of details that I've chosen to edit out.] Eventually I relaxed and stopped feeling so out of place. And eventually we - well, Daddy first - made the acquaintance of a good looking , lonely young soldier a few stools down the bar from us.

Young like the philosopher.
39.

It was inevitable that Daddy should decide that it was my destiny to relieve the young man of his loneliness and horniness.

Certainly, the soldier was interested in me. Aside from anything else, I was dressed per instructions in a sexy, clingy, very low-cut black sweater. Without a bra. And I'm sweet and sometimes I even agree that I'm beautiful and I was definitely both flirty and kind. And he was lonely. New to town, working at a nearby base, and not wanting to hang out with other military people. A sweet guy.

One of the things that I admire so much about Daddy and that give him so much power over me is that he sees into my head and heart as if I were made of clear glass and running non-stop electronic signs spelling out my every thought and feeling. But this time his vision was clouded. he was drinking. A lot. And while he certainly knew what the soldier wanted, despite the guy's being confused - or maybe not - about my relationship with the fiend - he misread me. Or maybe was just indulging in wishful thinking. he thought we both wanted to go off together. So he kept leaving us alone and then left the bar early (well, not that early, maybe 5-10 minutes before he needed to), intending for me to go home with the guy.

I refused.

The guy was actually very sweet - is actually very sweet - but I just didn't want to. Cautious, I suppose. Which wasn't a stupid thing to be. And just having trouble with it. So I said no, but gave him my number and e-mail address and offered to get together this week. The guy was disappointed, but happy, I think, at the thought of having made contact with someone.

Daddy was angry.
I let him down.
I was not taking seriously his intentions for me.

And rightly enough, he reminded me that we both say that we are not playing. This is for real. Which means sometimes I will be doing things I don't want to do.

As the sadist likes to say, you prove nothing when you order an ice-cream loving submissive to eat ice cream.

There was more about Saturday night.
Daddy was drinking.
A lot.
We were in an environment in which we are usually not together.
He often seemed different from the man I know.
Certainly, we were mostly behaving together in a different way.

It was so odd. Especially in the presence of the soldier, I was teasing in the way I never could be if we were alone. But we were trying not to broadcast our relationship. Fat chance. A few times the soldier asked point blank what our relationship was. He said he saw how I looked at the sadist. How my eyes were on his face all the time. It's hard to hide something like that. It's hard to change something like that. I told him we were just old friends, but I'm not sure he swallowed it.

So.
We each went home to our own homes.

And the next day, and even Monday, I was feeling different. Uncomfortable. A bit estranged. Disconcerted by how Daddy had seemed. There was a vulnerability about him... he seemed to grow shorter... We had two conversations that were rather revealing on his part, which I treasured for their openness, but which also revealed his vulnerability, although that kind I can deal with and love him for.

And he was quite annoyed with me for not going home with the solider.

Still.
Things are moving along with that.
So maybe I'll get to redeem myself.
Or not.

He's a nice guy, the soldier.
hes a sweet guy, and polite and considerate and with more depth than I first thought.

He called me late Sunday afternoon, having waited all day, trying to figure out the right time to call. We talked for 40 minutes. He's coming over on Wednesday (tomorrow as I'm writing). He'll bring a DVD. I'll make dinner. Daddy is assuming we'll end up in bed, that the guy will be all over me after 10 minutes of the movie. But really, the solider is so phenomenally polite and thoughtful that I'll be surprised. But if I wants to fuck me, I'll let him. (And yes, of course, safe sex!!) It could be very sweet.

A few more things.

Yes, he knows that I'm 23 years older than he is. (I wonder how old his mom is...) He asked straight out. Politely, of course. He took me for early 40s. I wonder what he'll think when he sees me in full light?

Daddy was here this morning. After I made him feel ever so good, we talked about the soldier's upcoming visit. Which Daddy fully respects will be a cumming visit. We talked about what to say about our relationship, expanding on an early e-mail discussion. And Daddy gave me a gift. He said that I could say that we were friends with benefits. Or tell even more of the truth if I wished. I doubt I would do that. But I'm so glad that I can say - or at least imply, depending on the situation - that we're involved. That I have an involvement. That he - or anyone - shouldn't assume that I am available to be his girlfriend.

That was such a relief.
Part of me is so afraid of being swallowed up.
I'm already swallowed up.
Swallowed and burnt by digestive juices.

I do think Daddy knew that I needed to be able to say that. And then he went further. He said that if I wanted I could tell the soldier exactly what our relationship was. Now that I don't think I'll do. I think it would shock him. make him uneasy. But if I did, Daddy said, I could tell him that the sadist was here today - and deliberately didn't mark me because he knew I would be seeing the soldier tomorrow.

Now that could be interesting...

I'm afraid to re-read this for editing. I suspect it's much too rambling. So I'll just check for mis-spellings and hit PUBLISH POST. What the hell. I'm living dangerously already.

(Actually, not as dangerously as it might seem. Daddy grilled me on making sure someone knew the soldier was coming over. And of course he knows. And the solider knows he knows, and will see me text Daddy on his arrival. Daddy does take care of me. My only concern is that the guy is so polite that he may not actually try to fuck me. I sure hope he at least tries to kiss me or I'll really be in trouble!)