What do I do Sir?

I don’t know what is wrong with me. I am so very frustrated with myself.

I feel like something is broken, that I am little less of a woman.

You turn me on so fucking much. I can’t help myself when I get around you. I just have to touch you, kiss you, tangle myself up with you. I have zero control over those urges and can’t stop myself from touching you.

I am already idling on high normally, but you just kick the RPM into overdrive. Just with a look, or a whisper in my ear. Hell, you can just walk past me and I can stare at the way your muscles move under your shirt and it turns me on.

You do it for me.

You have inspired a slew of fantasies, several of which you have read here. And there are many more to come.

But.

I am so frustrated.

I don’t know why I can’t get off.

I don’t know why I am ALWAYS turned on and still can’t get off.

I wanted to scream last night. And then cry. And you knew it, you could see it.

I couldn’t. I bit my tongue and kept my composure. Barely.

I literally was right on the edge of a massive orgasm 5 or 6 times and then poof, gone. I fucking quit.

Threw in the vibrator.

Gave up.

I couldn’t handle being edged any more.

There are some times that I’ve been so unbearablebly desperate for release that I do cry.

Most of the time, it’s after you leave.

I don’t want to show you that side of me.

I feel guilty that I can’t get off.

I feel even more guilty that you can’t get me off.

I feel like a burden, a chore. That getting me off shouldn’t be on the priority list.

I love fucking you. I don’t ever want to stop. The sex is fucking rediculous with you.

But.

I still can’t get off.

Sometimes I feel guilty asking to use one of my toys. Because I know that you don’t enjoy it as much.

And please Sir, don’t try to tell me that I am wrong on that.

Sometimes, as you put it, you can be a little selfish, and you forget about me.

A large part of me is really quite ok with that. I enjoy, immensely enjoy, being your little slut. Being your good girl. I fucking love making you cum. I love being such a fucking good girl for you and hearing you say that.

There is something about being utterly used by you for your pleasure that does something for me. I can’t get enough of it, and when you do use me like that…. I feel that much more “yours.”

That is what I am here for. Well, one of the reasons. And I adore it.

But then, there is this little voice that chimes in once in a while.

Hey, what about me?

I try to ignore it. I do.

But I can’t help but feel a little left out. And the worst part of it is my self depriciation gets wind of that little feeling and runs with it. Which ends up equating to feeling less of a woman, and even, and I hate saying this, a little unloved and a little unattractive.

I hate this.

I wish I had an answer.

It almost makes me want to give up trying to get off completely.

Because why bother?