The character today is a hottie in a red silk blouse and skirt, who met me in the "Passion Pit" - a bar that hosts live sex shows. I was dressed in an aquamarine blue top, with an excessively ornate ruby necklace nestled around a neckline that plunged rather deep, a white wrap-around skirt that accentuated my curves and matching white boots. Graciously acknowledging the whistles that erupted upon my entrance, I made my way to a corner from where I could view the action on stage while checking out the crowd that walked in. My feeble attempts at multi-tasking two favorite pastimes were interrupted by a message from this hottie, who called herself, of all unimaginative names possible, "PressDown". I shortened it to PD because it rolled off the tongue better. We stuck up a conversation, within minutes of which, it was quite evident that this, here, was a "he" pulling off a "she" - the height was still 6"3 in the profile, the profile itself quite unimaginative, to speak nothing of the distasteful photos. I played along, curious on how it would turn out. Bad mistake !
We met up the next day, after repeated requests from her to get to know me - thereby, violating a cardinal rule - women never sound needy. I took her to the scene of my tied-and-gagged whipping session, the BDSM room you saw in the pictures. I bumped into another friend and asked PD if she would like to do her instead. PD insisted on pleasing me and that it would be worth my while. She found the room not to her liking, so I took her to the adjoining Resort room, with a beautiful view of hills and lakes. The dolls undressed and stood there on the balcony, doing a slow dance to no music in particular. And, that is where all the action stopped.
PD was more concerned with my real world reactions. For two hours I endured the torture of reading through lines of corny lovemaking sequences she imagined she was doing to me, interspersed with what she actually wanted me to do to myself. In between, I almost died laughing - she walked me through how to find a particular spot hidden deep inside an organ I did not possess, that if pressed the right way, would make me want to pee. Now, back in the real world, were I to possess such an organ and be in the process of pleasuring myself, for the life of me, I could not understand why I would want to do something that ridiculous. Bitch that I was, I had multiple chat sessions open with some others who ranked almost the same on the bitchiness quotient. We bitched the hell out of PD's attempts at trying to arouse me.
The process finally came to an end after an exaggeratedly loud sequence of inanely random key-presses to convey the inability to type coherently in the midst of orgasmic convulsions. Two hours for this crap? God, I wanted to stick a needle in her eye. Thankfully, so immersed was PD in her act that I managed to sneak by with canned clickable responses readily available in a menu. In between bitching sessions with my other friends, I was able to read through a chapter from a collection of Rand's unpublished work.
The next hour turned out to be more fun than I expected - an abject contest between a man's ego and a woman's vanity. PD could not understand why I was not interested in getting to know her. I told her I did not care. I was happy not knowing her. She told me her real name was Ericka. I said I preferred PD. She wanted appreciation for what she considered a great lesson in the art of lovemaking. I gave her none. She professed her desire to belong exclusively to me. I said I did not like sushi every night. She gloated how all the others she had "made love to" wanted her back for more. I told her they were more than welcome. She called me Ms Francon, because I liked Rand. I corrected her - Ms Francon would be Guy Francon's daughter - I would rather prefer just Dominic. She meant the essence of the character - being devoid of attachments. I thanked her for the complement. He/she finally gave up, with rather trite dialogues on how I survive without feelings. She looked forward to meeting me again. I thanked her with all the sincerity I could muster. With that, she disappeared .. *poof*.
I guess I still managed to come off as a touch too dramatic. Oh well, maybe next time !
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