Hope looms

Hope is using me. That’s ok. I like being used by her. And truth be told, I am using her, too. We are a bit like two old boxers, circling each other in the ring. Or maybe that’s the wrong analogy. We are like two lion cubs, playing. But we aren’t from the same litter – though we played together when we were (even) younger. Neither of us knows the other’s strength, any more. Each knows the other presents greater danger today than when we used to play.

I want to know what I can get away with, what I may ask for, what I can take. 

Hope wants to be clear that there are limits to what I can take, that danger lurks – for each of us – should I try to take too much. Just what that danger is, for her, I’m not certain. But I can see that it’s there. 

For me, the danger is clear: I don’t like being told “no.” I don’t mind being told, “No to that, but maybe yes to this.” But Hope threatens a simple “no,” without a compensating “yes.”

I don’t like that ground. I prefer certainty. But Hope doesn’t offer certainty, except at the very far edges: “I’m just not going to show up at a hotel and blow you for an hour,” she says. Fine. I don’t want that. From her.

What I do want, though, is a lot.

I want, at the end, to leave Hope (for her to leave me) with both of us wanting more.

I want to see Hope hover at the edge of her comfort zone. Giving me more than she imagined she would, and being pleased to have done so. And, to leave high and dry. Wet. Aching. Hungry. And filled with doubt. Confusion. Longing.

I want to see Hope’s exquisite body. Her thighs. Which are NOT fat. But which are big. Strong. Meaty. I want to see her ass, which also is not fat. But which is big. Strong. Meaty.

I want to see Hope’s breasts. Which are big. Round. Full. Soft. I want her to want me to have all of that, even as she also wants to restrain herself, to limit what she offers, what I get.

Mainly, though, what I want is arousal: hers and mine. I want her to have the excitement of making herself pretty for a man who appreciates it. To have the sensations in her cunt that accompany all that, along with those that accompany, for her, doing as I ask and earning my praise – both for what she brings to the table with her pretty body and face, and for her compliance. 

But here is where it’s complicated: she wants my praise, but only wants to give what she wants to give. So for us both to win, I have to ask for nothing more than she is prepared to give, to avoid putting her – and me – in a position of there being a mismatch.

That’s the challenge.

Here’s what I imagine I might hope to take from Hope in the short term:

  1. Ample views of her pretty body.
  2. Ample compliance by her.
  3. Teasing – for both of us. I want us both to need more, when we’re through.

Between here and there, I need to know some limits.

She has said, “My body is off limits.” I’m not sure I know what this means. I would like to know better. Does this mean I may not see her body? I may not touch her body? Does this mean I may not enter her body? I think (I’m pretty sure) the answer to those latter two questions is “yes.” But I’m not sure about what it means with respect to, say, her pleasure. Does it mean I may not have her touch her pussy for me? Undress for me? Come for me? Does it mean I may not stroke my cock to her? Come to her?

I hope the answer to those latter questions is “no,” but I have zero clue. And, I don’t want to ask in advance. Because I have the sense that the answer might be different at different times, at different distances from me, in different circumstances.


Here are my proposed limits/boundaries. I would like to know hers.

  1. I will not touch her (other than to hug her hello).
  2. She will not touch me (other than to hug me hello).

Those are mine.

I wonder what hers are?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.