I need to be wanted-Phone Sex-Biastophilia/Raptophilia-Part 1

T. was the perfect man for my first sexual experimentation. When I lay in bed at night rubbing my pussy it was a forceful touch that I envisioned. The boys my age were just interested in getting tail. But they were too timid to take it when they met a girl that would play along with them. If they weren’t hard for pushing their way inside, they could leave and not come back. Masturbation is something I could do anytime; when I’m with a man. I need to be wanted.

Then when I started hanging with a new group of friends.

Things drastically improved. I met T. It felt like electricity inside of my chest when I looked into his dark eyes. There were things that T. had done that were new to me. Some things like BDSM, group sex, and other things that turned me on. I need to be wanted! The more I talked with T. and had edgy phone sex, the more I thought about my taboo fantasy. Seeing as how T. was the sexiest man I had ever seen.

It’s no wonder that I rubbed my pussy to the thought of him pinning me down and growling while he took me.

He was so hot; I wanted to unlock something in him. The way I wanted T. to look me up and down and then stalk over to me slowly. Oh my gosh, I wanted him to plunge his fingers into my mouth to gag me when he got close enough. I wanted to be the key to his primal side, and I need to be wanted by him in a way that no one has ever wanted me before. T. surely would be into my fantasies about being taken. There had been a few other highly inappropriate topics on our phone calls.

When I told him, of course, he was on board with making them a near reality.

I had a weekend home alone, and we talked it all out, how we were going to have him surprise me when I was going to be most vulnerable. And everything was set in motion. When I said I need to be wanted, that’s when he knew to begin.  T. was waiting for me when I was going in for a shower. I didn’t hear his footsteps with music playing in my ears, but I felt him grab me from behind. T. chuckled when I screamed. He started to grind into my ass, and then he spoke in a voice that was deeper than I had ever heard him use and said, “you’re my pig.”

I started to kick and struggle against him. T. pulled my hair hard and told me that he liked my fight, but he would get even more aggressive if I didn’t break for him eventually.

Willow

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