It's actually one that I stole from an ex boyfriend, who was the love of my life until he went violently insane. It's kind of hard to love a guy who you can never see and who can only write you letters in crayon.

He always had this fantasy of fucking a girl on her fluffy pink and white canopy bed, white lace ankle socks on under her "fuck me pumps", surrounded by her stuffies.

It seemed the easiest to get into, as I had happened to wear my girlie socks with my own "fuck me pumps" that day. So after Cosmo left, I booted the cats out of the room, dimmed the lights just a bit, and threw some Rammstein on the CD player. I sat down on the bed and closed my eyes and began to see it. I scooted back on my bed and imagined him seated at the end of my bed, watching the little show I was about to put on. Him as in my ex-boyfriend who's fantasy this partially was originally? No. The nameless, faceless Him that haunts the occasional reverie.

Is this where I'm supposed to launch into a detailed description of how I molested myself for the pleasure of my imaginary watcher? Because I'm not. Like I said, I molested myself to a mind blowing orgasm during, carried it over to another one in the shower, still another [with some extra added mental stimulation from an always interesting kiddie I would up talking to after my shower] before bed, and woke up feeling the urge this morning. Yes kiddies, it was that good.

Of course, some of my best orgasms come when I'm being dominated, even by my own imagination. Call it a leftover of my Daddy issues, I don't mind. I've been told that before. The therapist my mother dragged me to after I explained the bite shaped bruise on my neck had a very interesting perspective on the fact that my dad was never around which apparently causes me to seek out the older, wiser, dominant male types.

And from the self-satisfied smirk on my face that hasn't left since last night, I'd say that seems to suit me, even in my little fantasy world.

Cosmo has to run another errand tonight. I doubt I'd have enough time to relive last night, but I could most definitely use some leftovers.

You know what I miss? Back when I was a nanny, I didn't have to be to work until 3pm. That gave me most of the day to myself. I miss masturbating in the middle of the day. The sun shining on me through the window as I worked my clit in broad daylight. It had a different feel to it.

In totally asexual news, my super cute phone is super cute because it has this translucent hot pink faceplate, and a blinky battery. I love to watch my phone ring!! I don't have the ringer on at work, and it just blinks away with different colors and patterns.

And on that note I'll leave you.