Use and service

Written 2 days ago, right after the fact.

I'd been thinking about the Irishman for days. I was stressed out and needing human contact.

Today, he e-mailed me.
He e-mailed me and I didn't see the message.

He uses my anonymous yahoo account that I keep for craigslist ads - ads for housemates and lovers and perverts. It is NOT my oatmeal girl account, because I prefer to keep my blog secret from the men I meet. It's awfully tricky to write about them otherwise....

So Wednesday he e-mailed my yahoo account, and I didn't see the message because I mostly don't use that account. I've been keeping it open just in case he wants me. But I didn't see this.

We have an arrangement. If and when he wants me, he can have me. For use. A very functional relationship. There might not be much notice, there might not be a snuggle afterwards, no sitting around and chatting beforehand... I love it.

OK, it's not my top choice. I really like this guy. Something about him appeals to me. He's very good looking. Smart, charming (the little he's allowed me to see), Irish of course, grey hair that doesn't make him look old, an enticingly wry crooked smile... I wish I could date him. But of course he's not available. Not even an open marriage. He just has these needs, simmering underneath all the time, and then they rise to the surface and need release. And I said yes, I'd be there for him, I'd be his slut, he could use me as he needed me. Better than having to score a new girl from craigslist each time.

And the idea excites the hell out of me.

Unfortunately, there had been no opportunity for him to use me until today. He had asked once or twice - with a minimum of e-mailed words in which you could hear the politeness - but the timing was off. I was sorry. And then this week... I did so need to be with someone this week, no matter what the circumstances. As long as it was someone with whom I felt a connection.And I do feel a connection with him.

But I didn't see his e-mail.

And then he phoned. A little before 9 pm. And I said yes, of course.

He was here in half an hour.

He gestured with his head and we went straight to the bedroom. He bent me over the foot of the bed and spanked me a few times, through my jeans. He doesn't hit me that hard... I wonder
why my butt hurts now? Because it definitely does hurt. I wish he'd done more. I wished he'd had the time and the inclination to spank me for 20 minutes... to spank me until I sank into the rhythm and the pain... not that painful in each slap but pain that built, and that got worse as my ass became more and more tender... I wanted to externalize the pain from these last days, make it tangible... but this was better than nothing. And it does still hurt.

He bent me over the foot of the bed and spanked me. Then he ordered me to take off my jeans and panties. I didn't get the impression he wanted anything more to come off. He was focused and goal oriented. He had asked ahead of time whether I had condoms, so I had already arrayed them and assorted lubricants on the bedside table. He positioned me back over the foot of the bed and said he wanted my ass. He was kind, checking to be sure that was ok. He said he wanted a minimum of talking. I did tell him that this would be the first time. He said in that case it would hurt - and was I all right with that? He is a very kind dom. I said yes, I was all right with it, I wanted it.

What do you want?

Whatever you do, sir.

Do you want to be my slut?

Yes, sir, I do want to be your slut! (a slight smile slips into my voice)

Good girl.

He spanked my bare ass. I could hear condom and lube action. He had been rubbing his be-jeaned erection into the crack, rubbing, pressing, banging... I wanted him. I wanted him using me like this, reducing me to a hole or two... my sadistic demon muse has been exploring objectification with me and has plans to do more. This little adventure would have made him happy, I think.

So yes, he spanked my bare ass. Not all that hard but hard enough that it still hurts as I write this later that evening. I wonder if he saw any remnants of my birthday beating.

And I wonder if my demon muse cast a spell on my virgin anus. A spell that locked it tight. Because the Irishman couldn't make it in.

He went to Plan B.

He fucked my cunt from behind. It didn't take too long, this was a utilitarian fucking with nothing to prove. But I felt him banging at me from behind, I felt him inside me, I felt the pressure, a nice erect cock inside me. Hallelujah.

He came. He remained inside me just a very brief time. Just as long as he needed. Then he smacked my ass one more time... it was a good hard smack but I experienced it as a good-bye kiss... he smacked me that one more time then bent over my back and murmured in my ear "I'm going to go now. Stay there." I sighed contentedly and said "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

And then he was gone.

From arrival to departure it couldn't have been more than 20 minutes.

Would I have liked more? Sure. I would have liked at least a half hour of spanking and fucking and a whole lot of other things in between. I'm not greedy... because what I would really have liked was an hour... including a pair of naked bodies and his weight on me... and kisses... we did kiss the first time he came here... he kisses well... but this was fine. This was very fine... there was a body here... there was pain... there was sex... and even though he needed to reduce me to a hole, he was still someone who needed me. Who needed to be with me.

And that felt just lovely.

Thank you, sir.
I am your slut, sir, on call, and happy to serve.