November week three

 It was an interesting week indeed...

I started it off by getting black out drunk and falling in "love" with a man who I had just met. I hated him at first eye contact, and I still do. Upon our first meeting I slapped him for some unknown reason, and I believed it awakened something deep and primitive inside him which sparked him to immediately obsess over me. And me being the unloved whore I am I welcomed the attention like the neglected child I once was. He showed me that he believes I deserve so much more than how I'm treated by those who have come into my life in the past... but he couldn't have been more wrong. For the few days he was here he poured all of his love and affections onto me like I was a shelter puppy and although I enjoyed it at the beginning, by the final day I was sick of these antics. I was sick of pretending to be someone I wasn't, someone capable of caring and loving for someone else like I'm a normal girl. But I'm not and although I shed a few tears for him after he left, I'm afraid that they were just crocodile tears to make me feel like I was capable of some compassion. But I'm not and all we did was act like virgins for a few days, cuddling and kissing, so it didn't leave that much of an impression on me. However, I must admit that I felt somewhat abandoned and betrayed when he left me to go back to his home country. Relationships between boys like him and girls like me always end up with the poor, sweet, innocent boy to go insane and do horrible things to me and drive me crazier than I already am. Thus, in my sadness I made some decisions that I feel reflect well on my character.

 The day after he left, I had already returned to normal and a wonderous opportunity was presented to me. A man at work who I've been somewhat pining over invited me for some after work drinks, to which I readily accepted. It was our first time going out just us two together and I somewhat knew what was coming (I didn't wear underwear to meet him, but I didn't bring my vibrator either). There had been some light flirting in the past, especially during the summer when a group of us from work would hang out and go to the beach together. I remember one time it got especially heated while we were swimming together, but it didn't lead anywhere. Mainly because I assumed he always saw himself as some sort of big brother figure to me, and because he has a girlfriend. Because of the latter I was still unsure of his intentions even though he invited me out for a drink just us two. He was already drunk before our shifts finished and I was quite excited to see where this was headed. The way he asked me out was quite ballsy too, he casually announced it to a group of our coworkers while we were in the smoke room. It did make me quite aroused for dominance to be asserted like that, taking me out for drinks and assuming I wouldn't reject him instantly. 

    We went out, and with it being the world cup there was a football match on, so we were going to go to a pub to watch it after we finished chugging a few beers. When we got there, I was pretty tipsy, and he was too, and we decided to go to his house instead to watch it on his laptop. He suggested going to his at first, but I initially declined because I had spent the past week pretending to be a woman of high worth, but of course, this I am not. I was still unusually slow about it once we got back to his, pretending to watch the football to ignore his countless advances to initiate things. I eventually caved, and halfway through our first make out, his girlfriend texted him which. admittedly, turned me on even more. What followed was rough dirty unprotected sex. He was choking me and slapping me to his heart's content, and we didn't discuss any of it beforehand, so it was in a rough primitive way, not a millennials wet consensual dream. The rough primitive way is my favourite way, and I've never seen it come so naturally to a man before. He is truly a pervert. We did butt stuff, no lube. The true pinnacle of it all was the tension that we've had between us, for months now, finally coming to a full body friction. It was a beautiful disgusting display of my truest nature, the desire to be whored out by as many men as possible. When I woke up with bruising on my neck from the choking, I admired it for hours in the mirror and camera as I thought it looked really beautiful on me, and the bruising on my ass cheeks looked even more beautiful to me. They both invoked a sort of sense of pride in me. The really interesting thing about all of this is not my lack of self-respect, but rather my absence of guilt. He has a girlfriend and I had just spent the last few days being in some sort of mock marriage, but I don't feel guilty about having sex with him. I know his girlfriend too; she looked after me a few times while I was drunk, she's a lovely girl but bad things happen to good people unfortunately. The best things happen to the worst people so keep on being evil xx