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donnacooke
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donnacooke's Biography:
Gender: Female
Weight: No Answer
Height: No Answer
Location: New Zealand
Orientation: Bi
Interested In: Nothing
Status: Single
Smoke: No Answer
Drink: No Answer
Fetishes: It's all there in the story . . .
Pets: None
User Number: 328611
Member Since: March 17, 2004
Last Modified: August 28, 2005
donnacooke
Some words from donnacooke:

Apolgia pro London Dreams sua

It has been a long time since my last effort. Too long. And I'd like to tell you a little about how the new story came about.

For the last year I've been dating a (much older) guy who I was pretty serious about. He was handsome, funny, smart (and very very wealthy) and it could have gotten serious, but there was one big problem.

The sex was terrible.

Vanilla. Missionary. Lights off, no talking, not a lot of foreplay, no oral, no spanking, and generally no fun.

This was a real setback, since I'm a pretty sexual person (duh) and I didn't want to cheat on my guy, so I bought my first vibrator and waited to see if our love life improved with time.

It didn't.

The breaking point came when we went on a month-long vacation to London. We stayed in a great hotel, but my guy was jet-lagged and had a cold the whole time, so our twice-a-week-sex turned into not-a-single-time-that-month sex.

That's the worst kind.

Naturally I'd left my vib back home (he would have freaked out if he knew I even had one).

After two days I was like a heroin addict going cold-turkey. I was staring at guys crotches in the elevator and wondering how big a load they could shoot. I had violent gang-rape dreams every night and woke up with my legs spread and my back arcing and my panties soaked. I got turned on just brushing against other girls on the tube. By the end of the third week I was barely concious of my surroundings, while a constant montage of sick, depraved sex acts played through my head.

Most of them are in this story. The one's that aren't . . . well there's some things even Literotica won't publish.

I broke up with my man on the plane back home. I kissed him goodbye at the airport and caught a taxi straight to an ex-boyfriends house. He sent me a text the next morning: 'feels like every bone in my pelvis is broken.'

But that's another story . . .

I spent the next couple days at home writing 'London Dreaming' and getting reaquainted with my vibrator - often both at the same time. I think the somewhat fractured nature of the story relects this. Maybe I'll tidy it up in a week or two.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it. If you do then don't forget to vote!

Donna

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