Although I love change and new experiences, I found I was also a creature of habit who was fond of rituals/routines. I woke up in the morning to do the same forest walk that started my mind off feeling pure and fresh. Then, I sat in the cozy lodge beside the fireplace, with the view of the ocean and the Fairweather mountain range through the window. The boats floated calmly on the water beside the dock. This morning we had french toast again—my favorite meal ever.
“Get used to it,” Axle said, “because it will be the meal every day until the end of the season.”
How much better can it get?
Kaden was working as the lead server for the morning shift. I pulled out my notebook; earlier I had mentioned that I’d write about him. I played the shy nerdy girl, however we both knew he recognized the whore behind the virgin I was portraying. I knew he wanted to ravage me, but it seemed he wanted to toy with me first.
“What are you writing about?” he asked in a deep voice.
I smiled as I recalled the dirty things I put down in that diary of mine.
“I prefer not to share,” I said, “but I can assure you it’s all good stuff.”
He lifted his eyebrows, then I went to fill up my water bottle in the server station. He prodded again, telling me to share just one sentence.
He goes, “You don’t have to blush red, I just want to know one sentence.”
I felt another wave of heat and not just in my cheeks. “It’s inappropriate, but maybe I can share it with you tonight.”
“Sounds like a deal,” he smirked.
I was looking at him as though he was my prey, but really, I was the one that wanted to get torn apart.
I can’t believe I’m about to say it, but I’m actually craving a massive cock right now. I know, so unlike me. On a side note, I just found out Axle is Christian—little disappointed about that. Still, today was the day I gave him my sultry eyes. I loved watching him get all squirmy. Made me want to grab his bulge on the spot right there that much more. Mm, I wish Dylan wasn’t so conservative, either. I would love for them both to fuck me. I could feel myself hanging on by a thread. It feels like I’ve been being tempted in every direction.
I got to know my housekeeping staff a bit better today. The Dominican girls were three sisters who were similar ages yet their personalities were entirely different—Yanira, Liosha and Darianna. There were a few J-1’s on board as well, from Thailand and Japan, then a couple of locals from Gustavus.
Around lunch time, Kaden came into the laundry area, and God, I kept thinking about how hot his face would look on my pussy. I couldn’t keep myself collected. I knew he knew what I was thinking. I was bent over the table, looking up at him from an angle, nearly having my head turned all the way around my shoulder. I wanted him to picture how I might look getting fucked from behind. He ‘casually’ bumped into my ass. Oof. I’m normally not into black dudes, but I am now more than ever. I need that big, chocolate cock—I know he has it. Man, I hope he’s cool with me getting rammed by the others. I just don’t want him to think I’m now his ‘fuck toy’ or anything like that.
My breath grew deep and heavy.
He said, “Something tells me you don’t do anything,” referring to drinking/drugs.
“You’re right,” I said, “I’m a good girl.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
He asked what kind of dresses I made, having heard things.
“Bondage,” I said.
I responded differently to that question depending on who the person was and whether or not I was attracted to them. I liked the look on his face when I used that word, as if he was picturing what I might look like constrained in ropes. His eyes spoke defilement.
He let Georgina and I borrow his broom yesterday so we could sweep out the crumbs in our room. When he came over later at night to get it, he stood tall in the center of the room. I laid comfortably on my bed looking up at him. After having been so chatty with Georgina just seconds ago, I was now stone cold quiet. That’s how I knew I really wanted to fuck someone—when I could barely speak around them. I would be like a deer in the headlights.
I must say, I’ve actually been getting extremely turned on by how much he’s been teasing me with his energy. I feel like he knew just how to linger, enough to make me pulsate but not so much that I’d be annoyed or aware of his next move.
I can entirely see how I am drawn/attracted to these types of guys, the ones who have dark sensuality and a dangerous allure to them. The ones who hold promises of pleasure, yet bring nothing remotely close to that. I am aware of how I give myself to these men, knowingly putting myself in a wounded state of mind. I am fully aware that I will be used for none other than getting their dicks wet, just the same as I use them for stories and getting my pussy wet. The games we play are in plain sight. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s simply about recognizing there is no actual victim or perpetrator. It makes it that much more fun when you can step out of the role you find yourself to be playing. Behind the screen, I recognize I am the one that is actively walking into the flames of the fire that I built, planning my own death and acting as if it wasn’t all of my own accord.
