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| This is ridiculous on some level. I hate it on some level, but I can't deny it. I feel like a moth that keeps coming back to a very compelling, though somewhat frightening, flame.
Years ago I had a compelling conversation with a person I met on this site. My username is an homage to her. We never actually met, but we talked on the phone a few times. There was one question she asked at the end of our final conversation that drove a bolt of electricity up my spine. It freaked me out, and, I fully admit, scared me.
In the time since, the thoughts thus evoked have whispered at me, tempting me. It's frequently late at night, but is increasingly crowding my thoughts during the day. "After all, how bad can it be?" "As long as you aren't permanently injured, it's just another life experience" or "people live fulfilled lives even with permanent injury, so what are you worried about?" "Would she let you masturbate? Then why are you masturbating?" etc. etc. etc.
Anyway, my defences against them have broken down, and, like a sad, pathetic addict I'm back here offering myself again. It's likely in vain, and she'll likely not reach out to me or reply to me, but in some way the outcome's beside the point. I'm here because I need to freely and openly offer myself to this stranger from years ago.
If you get a message from me, I just want to write to you because something interesting has caught my eye in your profile. I'm not interested in intimate contact with anyone but her. She, of course, is free to play with as many as she likes as often as she likes. I'm one of her bitches, though. We don't cum without permission. We don't complain. We certainly don't even look at another woman.
Good luck everybody. I hope you find what you're looking for here.
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