(X-rated) June 5-6, 2023:
“Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked Voodoo.
He smiled in a way that suggested yes, but instead he said, “I think you’re fine just the way you are.”
I was being playful when I asked, but still, I felt he wouldn’t be able to handle the entirety of the woman I was underneath the facade of ‘Freyja.’
We visited the hostel before we trekked on. First, we snuck into one of the bunk rooms and fucked on the bed. Then, we fucked on the couch downstairs, on the one upstairs, on the one in the living room. He hoped someone would walk in on us. I, too, fantasized about a man sneaking some glances at us and maybe even jerking off in a corner.
While balls deep inside of me, he asked, “Do you like it?”
“No,” I said.
“Tell me you want it,” he said.
“No,” I said.
He slapped my face forcefully and said, “Fucking say you want it,” then kept slapping me harder and harder until I would eventually break.
“Okay, I want it! I want it!” I whined.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. You’re gonna like it when I tell you to like it,” he said right before he released his cum onto me.
Shortly after, he fell asleep next to me on the couch. Then, Pusher walked by us to go into his private room for the night. He walked by shirtless and I couldn’t help but stare him down, remembering of the way his body hair felt upon my skin. I loved how he didn’t feel intimidated by Voodoo, nor of my attention being drawn to someone else who wasn’t him. He looked into my eyes in a way that suggested he wasn’t afraid of me or my antics, nor was he over wanting me.
I watched Voodoo sleeping beside me and I became so aroused. I loved when he was in that calm, innocent state and wasn’t aware of the dirty thoughts I was having about him. His legs were on me and his bulge was protruding. I couldn’t help but start touching him while he was deep in his sleep.
My pussy grew soaking wet and throbbed as I watched him breathe deeply, releasing slight moans in his dream state. I slipped my hand under my panties as I got off to his face and the feeling of his raw cock growing hard in my other hand… without his permission. I played with him for over half an hour before he awoke to a raging hard on, ready to fuck me silly once more.
Afterwards, we ran into Whitman and he invited us to partake in the infamous ice cream half gallon challenge at the store. Someone trail magic’d us some ice cream, but I didn’t feel inspired to partake. Although ice cream was one of my favorite snacks on trail, I seemed to get very bloated and experienced discomfort after eating it. Instead, I watched Voodoo eat half a gallon and win a wooden spoon for his accomplishment.
Afterwards, we road walked and hitchhiked to Duncannon. We didn’t even have time to stick our thumbs out before a pick up truck pulled over and told us to hop in. Originally, we were going to stop in Carlisle, but our ride happened to be going all the way into Duncannon, so we said fuck it.
We laid in the back and they bombarded us with so much food and candy, making sure we were well off before they dropped us off at a church that gave hikers a free place to stay in their basement or the option to tent in the backyard. There was a shower available along with coffee and pancakes for breakfast in the morning. I couldn’t believe how kind the pastor was. He had let thousands of hikers stay at his church and simply wanted us to relax as much as possible. It inspired me to have that kind of freedom when it came to giving.
The following morning, I wore a sparkly mesh dress for Voodoo that I scored at a yard sale. It flirtatiously exposed my nipples in the right lighting. When everyone left, I sat down in his lap and role played being a little girl in church while he was a stranger feeling me up under my skirt without my permission. A couple of minutes into playing, we got interrupted by some hikers.
“Why is it dark in here?” one of them asked.
Voodoo says, “I was making the mood.”
“Why? For the pastor to walk in on you guys?” he joked.
Voodoo goes, “Yeah, it adds to the role play.”
So, I flirtatiously invited him to finish me off in the bathroom. He opened the door and the first thing I did was drop his shorts down to his ankles. Hard in seconds. He fucked me on the toilet lid, then lifted me up and perched me up on the sink counter. I squirted everywhere, covering the floor in my juices while the rest of my white creamy cum dripped down the cabinets just under the sink. He lifted me up and fucked me against the wall, then on the bench. It was too loud, so he brought me down to the floor. Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled by his cock and cum.
However, only about half an hour went by of him not fucking me which led to me crying. It felt my hormones were so intense I could die. I felt I wished I could fuck Voodoo all of the time. There was something in me that never felt satisfied. I wanted to walk around with the feeling of his cock filling me up every second of the day, with endless cum flowing down my leg that I could scoop up and lick up whenever I needed a fix of him.
I sat down and wrote a postcard for my family back home in Chicago. Then, I grabbed the notebook and wrote my feelings out to God.
Dear God, please help me see and understand how I am hurting myself, because sometimes, I can’t see it. I feel in pain and I feel a tendency to blame people in my perception. I feel a tendency to control the people around me. I feel scared of starting a relationship, in fear of all the things that can go wrong. I feel like I’m asking too much. I feel no one will want me when they hear about my needs and desires. For some reason it scares me to be disregarded and rejected… to be thrown away as someone who is just “crazy.” My heart seems to be hurting and I appear to be out of the Spirit right now. How come it’s so easy for people to communicate their boundaries in such a healthy way? How come it seems some people don’t struggle with what I appear to struggle with?
After I wrote God a letter, Voodoo and I went on a walk along the railroad tracks, then dipped down the hill to the edge of the river. We sat there for a moment, but then the arousal came over us again. It seemed it was nearly impossible for me to enjoy the little things with him when all I really wanted to use him for was his cock.
He placed me on top of a log and generously gave me his thick rod that I so insatiably desired. He held me up and caused me to squirt all over the tree bark. Then, he turned me around to fuck me doggy style, even though he knew that position felt intense for me.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said as I tried to get out of position.
He pushed my torso back down and said, “Good,” then rammed me harder.
My pussy throbbed open for him at his uncaring attitude. It was as if a switch turned on in my mind where I associated the feeling of ignorance with connection.
Right after he came, it began pouring rain on us, so we ran back up to get some shelter. He wanted to get serious with me, making conversation about the topic of being exclusive. I could see how my heart was still very closed off to him for numerous reasons. I simply didn’t feel open to connecting with someone who I felt had different intentions from mine—a big one being that I knew I would want to have the freedom to fuck multiple men at one point or another while wanting him to stay faithful.
“Can you just fuck me?” I asked.
He took me to a place he had spotted earlier in the day, near the baseball field. He led me down to a fenced in area. He laid me down on the bench, removed my panties and shorts, then choked me out as he shoved his cock inside my cunt.
My body grew flushed red with heat. The sun was starting to set and his face glowed with innocence and warmth, yet his eyes were full of coldness and rage. He slapped my face so hard that he knocked the glasses off of me. I felt his cock pulsate with intensity. I was addicted to the tension we had formed with each other. It felt like he was fucking the pain out of me.
Later at night, we fucked one more time outside in the grass behind the church and he came by looking at my face. Then, he finished me off by playing with my clit. God, he put me in complete surrender with his masculine fingers. He made me cum so often and felt better than any vibrator I had ever used.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked Voodoo.
He smiled in a way that suggested yes, but instead he said, “I think you’re fine just the way you are.”
I was being playful when I asked, but still, I felt he wouldn’t be able to handle the entirety of the woman I was underneath the facade of ‘Freyja.’
We visited the hostel before we trekked on. First, we snuck into one of the bunk rooms and fucked on the bed. Then, we fucked on the couch downstairs, on the one upstairs, on the one in the living room. He hoped someone would walk in on us. I, too, fantasized about a man sneaking some glances at us and maybe even jerking off in a corner.
While balls deep inside of me, he asked, “Do you like it?”
“No,” I said.
“Tell me you want it,” he said.
“No,” I said.
He slapped my face forcefully and said, “Fucking say you want it,” then kept slapping me harder and harder until I would eventually break.
“Okay, I want it! I want it!” I whined.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. You’re gonna like it when I tell you to like it,” he said right before he released his cum onto me.
Shortly after, he fell asleep next to me on the couch. Then, Pusher walked by us to go into his private room for the night. He walked by shirtless and I couldn’t help but stare him down, remembering of the way his body hair felt upon my skin. I loved how he didn’t feel intimidated by Voodoo, nor of my attention being drawn to someone else who wasn’t him. He looked into my eyes in a way that suggested he wasn’t afraid of me or my antics, nor was he over wanting me.
I watched Voodoo sleeping beside me and I became so aroused. I loved when he was in that calm, innocent state and wasn’t aware of the dirty thoughts I was having about him. His legs were on me and his bulge was protruding. I couldn’t help but start touching him while he was deep in his sleep.
My pussy grew soaking wet and throbbed as I watched him breathe deeply, releasing slight moans in his dream state. I slipped my hand under my panties as I got off to his face and the feeling of his raw cock growing hard in my other hand… without his permission. I played with him for over half an hour before he awoke to a raging hard on, ready to fuck me silly once more.
Afterwards, we ran into Whitman and he invited us to partake in the infamous ice cream half gallon challenge at the store. Someone trail magic’d us some ice cream, but I didn’t feel inspired to partake. Although ice cream was one of my favorite snacks on trail, I seemed to get very bloated and experienced discomfort after eating it. Instead, I watched Voodoo eat half a gallon and win a wooden spoon for his accomplishment.
Afterwards, we road walked and hitchhiked to Duncannon. We didn’t even have time to stick our thumbs out before a pick up truck pulled over and told us to hop in. Originally, we were going to stop in Carlisle, but our ride happened to be going all the way into Duncannon, so we said fuck it.
We laid in the back and they bombarded us with so much food and candy, making sure we were well off before they dropped us off at a church that gave hikers a free place to stay in their basement or the option to tent in the backyard. There was a shower available along with coffee and pancakes for breakfast in the morning. I couldn’t believe how kind the pastor was. He had let thousands of hikers stay at his church and simply wanted us to relax as much as possible. It inspired me to have that kind of freedom when it came to giving.
The following morning, I wore a sparkly mesh dress for Voodoo that I scored at a yard sale. It flirtatiously exposed my nipples in the right lighting. When everyone left, I sat down in his lap and role played being a little girl in church while he was a stranger feeling me up under my skirt without my permission. A couple of minutes into playing, we got interrupted by some hikers.
“Why is it dark in here?” one of them asked.
Voodoo says, “I was making the mood.”
“Why? For the pastor to walk in on you guys?” he joked.
Voodoo goes, “Yeah, it adds to the role play.”
So, I flirtatiously invited him to finish me off in the bathroom. He opened the door and the first thing I did was drop his shorts down to his ankles. Hard in seconds. He fucked me on the toilet lid, then lifted me up and perched me up on the sink counter. I squirted everywhere, covering the floor in my juices while the rest of my white creamy cum dripped down the cabinets just under the sink. He lifted me up and fucked me against the wall, then on the bench. It was too loud, so he brought me down to the floor. Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled by his cock and cum.
However, only about half an hour went by of him not fucking me which led to me crying. It felt my hormones were so intense I could die. I felt I wished I could fuck Voodoo all of the time. There was something in me that never felt satisfied. I wanted to walk around with the feeling of his cock filling me up every second of the day, with endless cum flowing down my leg that I could scoop up and lick up whenever I needed a fix of him.
I sat down and wrote a postcard for my family back home in Chicago. Then, I grabbed the notebook and wrote my feelings out to God.
Dear God, please help me see and understand how I am hurting myself, because sometimes, I can’t see it. I feel in pain and I feel a tendency to blame people in my perception. I feel a tendency to control the people around me. I feel scared of starting a relationship, in fear of all the things that can go wrong. I feel like I’m asking too much. I feel no one will want me when they hear about my needs and desires. For some reason it scares me to be disregarded and rejected… to be thrown away as someone who is just “crazy.” My heart seems to be hurting and I appear to be out of the Spirit right now. How come it’s so easy for people to communicate their boundaries in such a healthy way? How come it seems some people don’t struggle with what I appear to struggle with?
After I wrote God a letter, Voodoo and I went on a walk along the railroad tracks, then dipped down the hill to the edge of the river. We sat there for a moment, but then the arousal came over us again. It seemed it was nearly impossible for me to enjoy the little things with him when all I really wanted to use him for was his cock.
He placed me on top of a log and generously gave me his thick rod that I so insatiably desired. He held me up and caused me to squirt all over the tree bark. Then, he turned me around to fuck me doggy style, even though he knew that position felt intense for me.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said as I tried to get out of position.
He pushed my torso back down and said, “Good,” then rammed me harder.
My pussy throbbed open for him at his uncaring attitude. It was as if a switch turned on in my mind where I associated the feeling of ignorance with connection.
Right after he came, it began pouring rain on us, so we ran back up to get some shelter. He wanted to get serious with me, making conversation about the topic of being exclusive. I could see how my heart was still very closed off to him for numerous reasons. I simply didn’t feel open to connecting with someone who I felt had different intentions from mine—a big one being that I knew I would want to have the freedom to fuck multiple men at one point or another while wanting him to stay faithful.
“Can you just fuck me?” I asked.
He took me to a place he had spotted earlier in the day, near the baseball field. He led me down to a fenced in area. He laid me down on the bench, removed my panties and shorts, then choked me out as he shoved his cock inside my cunt.
My body grew flushed red with heat. The sun was starting to set and his face glowed with innocence and warmth, yet his eyes were full of coldness and rage. He slapped my face so hard that he knocked the glasses off of me. I felt his cock pulsate with intensity. I was addicted to the tension we had formed with each other. It felt like he was fucking the pain out of me.
Later at night, we fucked one more time outside in the grass behind the church and he came by looking at my face. Then, he finished me off by playing with my clit. God, he put me in complete surrender with his masculine fingers. He made me cum so often and felt better than any vibrator I had ever used.
