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Spanking and anal at photoshoot with a guy I just met

02 Nov

Well, dear readers, this sexytime post does not feature Roland! But it still deserves its place in my Diary, because it is an experience I’m having while selling virginity, and we did talk about this blog and Roland. He even offered to make a website for me so I could auction off my virginity for a much higher price. I turned him down because a) I wouldn’t necessarily get more – Rosie Reid only got £400 more than me and the girls who got loads, such as Natalie Dylan, have never been verified to have sold it; b) I have a verbal contract with Roland, c) I prefer it to be someone I like and d) it’s harder to vet bidders online and I want to be safe. And of course e) – I want a kinky person.

I’m sure that this blog post will convince you all that I do ‘put my money where my mouth is’ – in other words, that I am indeed a slut.

It certainly convinces me, because I never saw myself as doing something like this. I guess you don’t know who you are until the opportunity presents itself. A few short years ago, I would’ve despised a girl for doing this and said she was a slut, a tart. But I changed shortly after going to university because I saw no point in judging people and comparing peoples’ sex lives to other peoples’ sex lives, especially when I realised I couldn’t draw up a slut table (ie is being married to 5 men less bad than cohabiting with 5 men just because she’s married? Or even worse? Is 2 one night stands in a month better or worse than 3 in 5 weeks? If it’s with someone you know is that better than with a stranger? Having 3 casual boyfriends in 6 months better or worse than 1 one night stand?) There are no answers to these questions – at least, none that aren’t debatable and controversial and probably case-specific.

The guy has requested to be called Donny on this blog, which he will read because he thinks it’s interesting.

I don’t know what Roland’s reaction to this will be, if he sees this post.

I was waiting outside the Festival Theatre, Southbridge, Edinburgh. This was on Saturday. Donny was going to pick me up to do a photoshoot. It was a mostly fashion shoot with some lingerie and artistic nude. He was taking me to his home, which I’d agreed to because I’d seen his portfolio and knew that other models had worked with him, so he was a real photographer and not a serial killer posing as a photographer. Heh.

Anyway, Donny picked me up. He had black hair – my fave hair colour on a man – good looking, maybe late twenties (I found out later he’s 30). He drove us to his flat in a fairly affluent area of Edinburgh. Donny told me he’s a computer guy although his degree was in something totally different.

In his house, he started taking fashion shots, and a couple of implied nude shots, and I changed several times. They were all fashion poses. Donny seemed very happy with how good the photos were. He said I have a natural talent for modelling and that I photograph very well, both of which is exactly what Roland said. So god knows why I hardly ever photograph well in ordinary pics. Then, after about 45 minutes he took a few implied nude shots and told me to look shocked and like I was screaming “Nooo” and covering up. He said I did this really well. It made me giggle though, and I said it was just like my fantasies and it was weird.

He said he needed a break cos his arm was tired, and I drank the Lucozade he’d bought me at the corner shop before arriving at his flat. He went into the kitchen to smoke. Then Donny asked me what my fantasies were and I told him, very briefly – spanking, government torture, rape, etc. He wanted to know how long I’d had them, I told him they arrived fully developed when I was 9 years old. I asked if he ever had any fantasies. Donny said he had to think about it for a bit, because I’m so open-minded that he thinks nothing will shock me but he wants to shock me. Then he came back out of the kitchen and told me about a dream of going into a van full of naked ladies in it when he was 7 which made him really happy, and backl then he “didn’t even know what naked ladies were for”. Sounded like a mobile brothel (like a mobile library) to me!

 

 

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