Sunday, July 25, 2010
Elle's Tales: Intro
My name is...well, just call me "Elle". I've been anonymous this long...no need to quit now. This is my chronicling of the life I lead. When I'm IN it, there is NO anonymity. I'm plainly open with my intentions and my rules. They don't get broken for anyone. I'm single and free to fuck...no ties, but the kinky knots tied in my bedroom. I AM in control. You won't find in these tales a glimpse of my soft side. You won't find a moment where I lose sight of my sexual hunger and become enrapt in some man's romantic hold. No. You will see that I'm serious about the business of not GETTING serious.
I'm 30. This is my year to do me...and anyone else I please. I know you want to know, so let me go ahead and clue you in...
YES, I was very much in love with someone once. We were "high school sweethearts" aka young and dumb. I was a nerdy, introverted female who went to church and sung gospel chords in first soprano. I wasn't allowed to wear make-up of any kind, including nail lacquer. I wore my hair in a ponytail for much of my high school years, because my preacher father thought the hair styles were "too grown". Yes. The TYPICAL child of a preacher...in ALL it's urban mythical glory...
I was my boyfriend's freak. I've sucked his dick, his balls, ate his ass...all while he's fucked every hole I own besides my ears and nostrils. He's cum on my face, my tits, my ass, back and stomach...and has bent my THEN size 20 frame in every position except a few listed in the Kama Sutra. By the time I turned 18 and graduated high school...on the outside, I was primly proper, educated, respectable and refined. On the inside, I was insatiable, ravenous, horny and a whore for the one man-child who ever tasted my pussy. I was those things for him, because I loved him beyond the understanding of anyone who REALLY knew him. In front of my father, Rev. Thorne (not our real last name)...he was the ideal young man. He went to school, got good grades, was a star athlete and had the manners of a Catholic altar boy. Behind closed doors, "O" was the type of dude that dipped into every open snatch around. He fucked my "friends", my cousin and a couple of chicks at my church who knew DAMN well we were together. What brought us to an end was my brand of revenge. I waited until prom night. When he showed up to the room we'd reserved for a night of freaky sex...he walked into our room, to his cousin's dick in my mouth, his teammate's dick in my pussy and his jersey on my back. Yea, he tried to hurt us. Thankfully, good pussy buys protection. Neither guy let him touch a hair on my head...and I rewarded them both with some good ole freaky train sex.
To say he hated me after that was speaking lightly. He told everyone, including my parents how nasty I was. No one believed him of course. No one except #75 and his cousin with the perpetual grin on his face. He tried to stop his cousin by telling him I "stunk" which of course his cousin knew hands on was a lie. I've always taken pride in my hygiene and appearance. Shit, his cousin ate my pussy everyday until I left for college. Once I got there...I just got even freakier. Orgies, threesomes, girl on girl...I did it. I let loose...well, loosER. I got so much free shit in college it was crazy. I've had guys pay my phone bills, buy my books, take me shopping, put gas in my car...even though my dad paid for all of that stuff anyway. After a while, it got good to me...and I got set in my ways. Why fall in love? Why buy into that emotional shit, when I could have my body satisfied...along with my needs. Hell, at one point...I stopped guys from even giving me things. Just knowing if I WANTED those things was good enough...but, I'm no prosititute...just a freak.
Fast forward to a 30yr old Elle...and you have what you see in front of you. A size 24 now...I'm still fine. Cafe au Lait, even skin tone, big ass, big tits, fat calves and the pussy to match. I keep my hair above shoulder length...hair laid always. Cat-shaped eyes of dark brown with golden specks...and full lips...no doubt a marketer of my head skills. I work as a researcher, as well as a scout for new clientèle, for an advertising firm and get paid nicely to what boils down to "looking shit up" and "closing deals". I have my own shit. My own car. My own home. My own stock investments...and I love being alone. I go on vacations with my girls, go out when I feel, and do what I like without having to answer to a damn soul. I'll be almost 50 by the time I consider a partner to live the rest of my life with. 'Til then...I'm solo like an opera diva.
This is my story...entry by entry. This is what a journal would look like...if I DARED pen these salacious scenes. Wouldn't want them to be discovered by the wrong person, now would we? *wink*
Take a peek...
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