The Chronicles of Bliss Ch. 01

Every superhero has a chronicle and I have decided to write my own. No one else knows about Bliss so the task is mine. I doubt if I'll ever allow anyone to read it. I can't imagine letting anyone I know read it. Anyway, I've had diaries and journals in past and I need this one for Bliss. I could post it on-line but why? I'll think about that after I know more about where this writing will lead.

Bliss isn't my real name it's just fun for me to be her at times, all the time really, but the truth would freak out most of my friends and give my dad a heart attack. The Misadventures of Kelly Kavanagh would seem less interesting, even to me, but my true super-self is known only to me and that's part of fun. I am serious though. There are people that need my help. They're everywhere, actually.

There's no bullet-proof spandex in a secret closet at headquarters but I need to find a good place to hide this journal. : )

I'm not crazy. Bliss is real. She's me! Mild-mannered Kelly, 37 year-old hotel administrator, part-time event planner, and former dork by day... destroyer of hang ups, breaker of barriers, and rescuer of the sexually forgotten by night. Holy shit! That sounds stupid :)

I just got home from a wedding (that took place yesterday : ) and had to start this journal partly because of last night but mostly because it's been on my mind for a long time, years maybe. There so much to write.

So, if Peter Parker was bitten by a spider then what happened to me? I blossomed! :)

In a nutshell, I was crazy about Xena: Warrior Princess in grade school. I was awkward and lost in middle school. In high school I started out as a painfully shy goth kid and ended up in fat jeans and hoodies that apparently made me invisible as far as the boys were concerned. But like I said, I blossomed :).

In college I made some changes, just baby steps at first. I dropped a few pounds (about 40 actually) and slowly started to let my inner girly-girl out. I've probably been over-compensating ever since. I should have been expecting the attention I'd get from the boys at a big university but my mind was blown. I said 'yes' a lot in college (still do : ). You name it, I did it. Hand jobs, blow jobs, fucking strange guys, multiple guys, girls, a pastor, and two professors... I still feel like that dorky middle school kid at times but I've more than made up for the lost time. I stressed a bit about the whole slut thing but I took some psychology and human sexuality electives and got that noise sorted out while I learned all sorts of fascinating things about myself and everyone around me. I paid my last tuition bill with money I earned at bachelor parties that usually turned into gangbangs. I wasn't invisible anymore.

I suppose I was a slut by nature but I became Bliss much more slowly. My heart ached for the quietest and most awkward boys at the bachelor parties so I helped them. I danced and took my clothes off for them, often ignoring the jocks snd pretty boys. The alphas that were rude to my dorky darlings got nothing and my darlings got all of me (if they were ready). If they weren't ready then they got my phone number. I still love waiting for my darlings to call so I can save them from a lifetime of invisibility but I am completely aware that spreading my legs is not a super power.

The most important thing I do for my darlings is that I see them. Maybe Bliss does have a super power : ) .

One story really has to be first. There was a lovely boy in one of my economics classes (18 years ago) and his story is important to Bliss so here it is. Yesterday's drama can wait

I learned he had been home-schooled when I overheard a Barbie-ish classmate giggling about his awkwardness. This girl was insufferable and, if I had to guess, I'd bet that right now she's sexting with an anonymous pervert, eating pie, ignoring her video-gaming brats, and killing time until her hen-pecked hubby comes home to crawl into her bed without a shower and snore while she thumbs her phone and her clam at the same time. Just kidding, lovely girl. : P

Anyways, I was fairly distracted during the lecture by the boy sitting two rows up and four seats over. I had a couple of free hours after class so I decided I would follow him back to his dorm room and rescue him, so to speak.

He almost hit the ceiling when I pressed my breasts against his back as he fumbled with his room key.

"Kelly! It's Kelly, right?"

As he bent down to pick up his dropped keys I put my foot on them. It was priceless! He stared at my sandaled foot for a moment before his eyes were drawn upward. I pulled my purse off of my hip and 'accidentally' pulled up my skirt as I pretended to search for my lip gloss. I swear I stiil think the hem of my skirt hit his nose as it fell back over my pantied crotch. I had been following him for at least 15 minutes and making plans for over an hour so, now that I'm older and wiser, I wonder if he got a whiff of me down there. He might have noticed a wet spot but probably not. He was up to about mid-thigh when my skirt rose up and instantly fell back into place.

I was applying my lip gloss by the time his eyes found my face again and that tiny plastic ball rolling over my parted lips seemed to freeze him. I took a bit of extra time and he eventually moved, swinging his backpack off his shoulder and holding it over his obvious hard-on.

"You should invite me in," I said, quietly but firmly. He did. Honestly, what choice did he have?

Minutes later he was lying on his back on his unmade bed mumbling his 'oh my gods!' and trying to decide whether he should squeeze his eyes closed or watch, wide-eyed, as I throated his virgin cock. I remember everything about him, the 'oh my gods', the 'thank yous', the 'oh fucks'. And then I heard it.

I liked it actually but I wanted to tease him so I hummed over his hardness as I placed my hands on his skinny thighs and pushed up. His cock slapped wetly against his tummy and the poor kid looked like I'd slapped his face.

"What'd you call me?"

"I'm sorry!?"

He looked absolutely panicked and I couldn't help smiling at him. He struggled to find his bearings, catch his breath, figure out why I stopped sucking his cock, and figure out how to get me to start again.

I told him that some girls like the naughty talk, including me, but it was a bit early for him to be calling me a bitch even though his cock was in my mouth at the time, slut maybe but not bitch, not yet.

He was frantic and incomprehensible as he tried to apoligize, deny it, and recall his impulsive declarations all at the same time.

'Bliss!" He shouted like it was the answer that would win a game show's final round or save the life of a cherished friend. "I said bliss, not bitch! I called you Bliss!"

He was so cute and the desperation was heartbreaking so I straddled him. I pulled at the crotch of my panties with one hand and held the tip of his purple cock against the mouth of my pussy with the other. I followed his wide eyes down and we watched a trickle my girl juice run down the top of shaft and disappear into his hair.

I told him to call me Bliss again and when he did I sank onto him, clenched my cunt around him, and rescued him.

He fucked me three times over the next hour. He tasted me and watched me cum four times; once while on top, once while riding his face, once when he pounded into me from behind, and the last time by my own hand (at his request : ).

The next time he walked into econ class was a revelation. He was still a quiet boy but the desperation was gone. Some confidence had been added. Hell, he was almost smiling.

There was a tiny change in me too. Every time I saw him I thought, 'I am Bliss' and it warmed me up on the inside. It tingled in the right way. Pretty simple, really. I liked a thought so I kept thinking it and I believe it now. I am Bliss! : )

I was never sure if he called me a bitch or not and I never cared. Still don't.

Gotta go... gym then salon every sunday and I'm really going to the gym this time : )

Last night's story can wait. I'll remember it : )