Part III of The Domme

So, a week or two ago a girl viewed my profile on that BDSM personals site. She listed herself as a domme, meaning, a dominant woman. Her profile was different than most, though. She explained that she's not like a leather domme, not any more, but more like a little girl who just wants to get her way. She likes guys who are sweet and romantic and attentive.

So when I see her name and profile in my list of who's been viewing me - and how gorgeous she is - I write her and tell her how cute she is and how unusual her profile is. She writes back that she likes me and that she's tired, but gives me an email address to write her at.

Aha! It's on. It's so fuckin' on. The world does not know how brilliant and persistent I am. I scoured the ends of the Earth via the internet and found everything from her full name, home address, and phone number, to her friends, her blog, and her personal website. I downloaded every file and every picture off every directory and subdirectory of her site. About 800 files, 130 megs' of information, and two videos of her giving guys blowjobs. I read everything she has ever written online. I even found "ghost" versions of things she's written and pictures she's posted but which have been deleted for months or years.

I read about her all night, maybe 8 or more hours straight. By the time I was done it was like a bizarre perverted dreamworld of hers, reduced to nothing more than her formula of preference: guy works out, guy brings her gifts and doesn't wear cologne and smells sweaty and is non-threatening, guy worships her feet, eats her out, and jerks off on himself. After I kept seeing this scenario written out and mentioned enough times, I actually found a an amateur comic strip she or someone had scrawled showing exactly those things in that order, frame after frame. It reduced it to nothing more than a strobe light, click, sweaty guy with no cologne, click, "I missed you," click, foot rub, click, foot licking, click, him rimming her, click, him fingering her, click, someone getting spanked, click, stick figure guy saying "I love you," click, stick figure saying "My pleasure is your pleasure," click, stickman says "Let's go out for drinks, on me of course!" In a way it was really pathetic. What am I saying? The entire thing was pathetic.

But at the same time it was so interesting that she had this legion of guys - and there were many, I saw the pics - getting used as footstools (literally) and totally worshipping her. Granted, she was hot, but this was a sort of subculture superstardom. Plus it was so interesting that she was so intelligent, active, and most of all, self-empowered.

I was intrigued, so I added her to my Messenger list. When we started chatting, I was so nervous I'd blow it. I wanted her quite a bit, plus I did NOT want to get rejected - two separate issues. But, having gathered information, I put it into my supercomputer brain which is part FBI profiler and part Hannibal Lechter. She was actually kind of easy to lure in. I knew exactly what to say. But I was on the edge of my seat the entire time.

After a week of chatting, I had her wrapped around my finger and I'd had kind of a "crush lite" on her. Meaning, she was the new big exciting thing in my life; the place my thoughts dwelled a lot. It was really masterful the way I drew her to me. Finally she hinted that we should go out, so, plans were made. See previous post for details.

Meeting her was even more curious. That's next. I said I would go to bed at 2 a.m. and now it's 6. I have to get up soon to do something with the wife. Instead of being happy to see me when I come to bed (the way some girls would be, which is what I'd prefer), she'll give me a bunch of grief about me not coming to bed when I said I would. Fuck, give me a break, I got caught up in porn. Anyway I'm dreading going upstairs.

Really, as much as I like and care for my wife, most of the time I can't stand to be around her. She'll bitch me out for one thing or another, or attack me, or take the wind out of my sails and demotivate me. That's one of the best parts of an affair: suddenly here's this girl I don't have to walk on eggshells around. Someone who actually - gasp - supports me or will stay by my side no matter where I go or what I'm doing (unlike my wife) . Someone who just isn't grumpy!

And believe me, it's not just the cheating and the fucked up sex life. She's always been grumpy.

Speaking of staying up all night downloading porn, I've found a way to cull vast amounts of porn off the internet. I'm talking about over 1,500 files; 1.6 gigabytes of pure porn on autopilot. And, Hell, that's after I purified it by deleting over 7,800 junk files (about 130 megabytes)! I do it night after night and I look at like 1% of it. At this rate I will never get it all sorted. Hell, I fall way more behind every day.