Sunday 29 August 2010

Cadet Bonetti reporting for duty Sir !!

I would like to say, given my research partners job in the army that this mornings role play session was all his idea. But no, no, it wasn't it was all mine. Some hard as fuck girls in the windy wilds of wherever inspired this particular scenario.


I reported for duty, stood to attention and waited for my dressing down. I was told my hair was simply not neat enough, not per regulation guidelines so it had to be shaken free, let loose from its unimpressive bun. My shoes, I was told, had clearly not seen polish in recent times and I was really going to have to do something about that. Indeed, as there were no polishing rags to hand I would just have to improvise with my knickers, which once removed, wet with pussy juice could be used to apply something approaching a shine on those toes that were not twinkling. As for my uniform 'had I met an iron? Would I like an introduction?'It was so piss poor that it would simply have to come off... slowly and don't forget the bra, call that white, clearly you need introducing to a washing machine as well.


Naked cadet Bonetti was feeling quite sheepish at this point, seemingly there was nothing she could do right. However things picked up when she moved onto weapons training, Cadet Bonetti found that she had numerous hidden and inventive talents when it came to handling a rifle. In fact she had polished the rifle by hand, like the shoes, remembering to put a layer of polish on and then take it off over and over and over again, long hard licks with her tongue, careful not to neglect the ammunition carriages with her fingers and mouth.  She remembered her training, that a gun is, after all, only as good as what it is firing and scored points for incorporating that. Things definitely improved when she got complimented on how well her mouth and hands had become acquainted with her weapon and she sucked her way to promotion.(I am sure she is not the first.)


No longer a cadet but a private it was time for her to play with her privates. After all those shoes were still no where near good enough to be seen on god's acre (the parade ground) and without polish to hand hot wet pussy juice would just have to do. Indeed I would have to play long and hard with myself, really show that superior officer, if he was still in any doubt at this stage, that there was something I could do ... and well. I rubbed intensely back and forth and pressed my toy hard against my clit, increasing the speed steadily. Private Bonetti's pussy ached, desperate for her toy to be plunged deep deep inside her, to feel it pounding her back and forth. But no, not yet, 'Your a horny bitch aren't you Bonetti?' he asked ' Yes Sir, fuck me, Jesus fuck Christ, oh my God yes, yes , yes I am Sir' she replied.  And wet she got, dripping and soaked through, feeling it glisten on her thighs and through her fingers tips which was a good job too. She had to or she would never have got wet enough to give those shoes the shine required.  She didn't want to get kicked out after all, these dressing downs are far too much fun.


By the end of duty Cadet Bonetti felt safe in saying to herself that her position was secure for the moment at least. Although she was told that her progress would be monitored closely and that there would have to be many more such inspections.  She was sure, with the feel of her juice fresh on her Superior's fingers and her taste still on his tongue that they would be seeing much much more of each other. I swear its enough to make a girl join up or is that just jump on?


For those girls I mentioned earlier I have been thinking about you and the perfect song sprang to mind. As for the boys 'How can you trust something that bleeds once a month and does not die? That's older than I am, I think you need some new material.


This is the song, please sing it girls !! 



Wednesday 25 August 2010

Could you come into the bosses office please?

Employee appraisals, no one likes them. Mine always go along the lines of 'Could you laugh a bit less and work a bit more?' I have tried to make the argument in such settings (yes, with a straight face) that laughter is good for morale and therefore increases productivity across the board. Honest, that is true, it has been proven. To which one particular boss, quick on his feet, did snap back 'It's lucky you make a good cup of tea young lady, kettle now.'  When he said 'young lady' what he really meant was 'jail bait' because I have always looked a lot younger than I actually am. I smiled back with the most wicked seductive smile you can imagine, voice an octave or so lower and said 'Everybody is good at something, I'll just get your tea.' As I walked away I was thinking to myself  yes, yes you can watch my arse as it wiggles out of your office, as long as you keep paying me for predominately having a laugh we will all be happy bunnies.  


Given that I get mixed reviews during employee appraisals, when my research partner in sexual misconduct suggested that it might be fun if he played boss to my temp I was a little unsure. No one enjoys evaluation... or so I thought. Still my research partner is the type of person whose ideas you will entertain, who you will follow... but only out of curiosity!


Anyway what unfolded was completely unexpected, fucking raw, dirty, horny as all hell, best by a clear country mile phone sex we have ever had. When I returned to planet earth, reacquainted myself with my surroundings, yep, still got two arms, two legs, those fingers are mine, noticed that the cat was giving me funny looks, I did begin to try and break down what actually made it all so damn good. Now I have two theories. The first could be that, as a rule, I like to call the shots sexually. I do like to be in control, to do undressing, control the pace, they are getting their orgasms- but only when I say type of thing. 


During last nights phone sex adventures I was not the dominant person at the party, probably for the first time in my life. I made like a good temp and did exactly and only as told. Layers of clothing were only removed at the bosses discretion. I only touched myself when I had his permission, the toys appeared simply because the boss made it clear he wanted to see his employee perform. God, it was wet when I think about it, horny. I have resolved to submit more often.


Now for my second theory as to why it was so damn hot. I changed my batteries in my vibrator and, in all sincerity, my pussy thanks you Sony. Fucking hell it makes a difference. Those new batteries for my vibrator are the equivalent of Viagra for a geriatric. Indeed I can't wait for my very new toy to arrive. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful Pabo for the knickers you sent me, they are black, lacy, a size 8, you remembered! They are generally pretty damn lovely but please can I have my new toy? Please! Pretty please!! Its been weeks since I first asked you, a girl's got needs!


 


Saturday 21 August 2010

Does anyone need a nurse?

Squeezing a phone sex practice session in during the wee small hours of yesterday morning my research partner made a suggestion. The scenario he had in mind was for me to pretend to be a very young, very innocent, very inexperienced trainee nurse. A bit of a school girl fantasy with a stethoscope thrown in for good measure. However, I am a game girl so I was happy to play along and see what would happen.


It devolved into hilarity fairly quickly. I was staying in character, I simply asked if he had a sore bot bot and would I be being a  good nurse if I rubbed some cream in? Now in my head someone innocent would refer to the arse as a bot bot because it is child like, as he said, fucking right its child like, like a five year old child, this wasn't where I wanted to take this thank you very much! 


Still, laughter aside, he explained very gently to this young naive trainee nurse exactly what she should do to herself and to him, that she should think of what was between her legs as a playbox, that it should be teased and rubbed, made so hot and wet that it is dripping and that he, of course, should watch. All good. Everything was going quite smoothly with a very relaxed vibe, the nurse had magiced some toys by this point and was fucking herself hard as instructed. Like I said it was all going smoothly until he turned round to my character and said ' 'I am enjoying hearing you playing with your box but its time to tell you its proper name, its a CUNT!' I really hope I am explaining this properly and nothing is being lost in translation because I swear to God it was as funny as fuck. All in all I am not sure how erotic the whole experience was but if it is possible to laugh yourself to orgasm thats what we did last night. In fact Ive been chuckling about the whole thing all day, so much so that when Dad popped down to see me he did ask 'What's tickled you?' What could I say? Well Dad...


This brings me to my next point, why my dad came to visit. We don't live in the same town anymore so I only really see him every couple of months. Still, thanks to O2 Unlimited we can chat on the phone as much as we like so its not all bad. Anyway the reason he treked to see me is because he needed to lend a few quid, no bother, at the end of the day, if United Utilities get paid late this month I think I can live with it. Indeed I'll look forward to the nice reminder letter they send out if you are half a second late paying. 


However it would have been much quicker and easier had my brother, you know the one who has found God, if he had just handed some cash over. We all know for a fact he has money simply because he never spends any. I swear to God when he takes a £10 note out of his mothball infested wallet the Queens head reaches for sunglasses. Going to the pub with him is a hoot, for some reason that no one can fathom it never seems to be his round. 


A little incensed that he had refused to help my dad I rang my Brother up, we chatted for a while and I did mention to him that the bible does talk about storing up your treasures in heaven and not in fact on Earth. I might have also said that if i am ever on fire, remind me not to ask you to piss on me.


And this, my friends, is my problem with God botherers. I am not talking about the people who have faith and quietly go about doing good work like helping the homeless and taking care of the elderly, people like that should be admired. In fact people like that should be taken to an island somewhere and asked to breed like rabbits so the world is a nicer place.What I am talking about is happy clapper, flag waving, speaking in tongues, want to baptise you in the nearest school swimming pool born again bastards who are so very filled with the holy spirit that there is clearly fuck all room left for any humanity.


Anyway I don't know what went wrong with my brother, when we were kids if you didn't share your sweets willingly you were made to. And by made to I mean the sweets were taken off you and you had to watch everyone else eat them. As my dad use to say with a smile and a wink, that will teach you. And still to this day I can't get my head round people who don't and won't share, people who constantly say 'thats mine.' I don't understand why people will willingly share their beds with whatever partner, do all kinds of weird and wonderful things sexually but if their partner wants to borrow their ipod, well, frankly, its just a step too far.


Listen to this song and hopefully you'll be laughing along with me.

Wednesday 18 August 2010

Stick your head out of the trench and you are going to get shot


I knew that when I started this blog it would not be everybody's cup of tea. It was never going to be to everyones taste a girl talking explicitly about her sexual antics and talking dirty down a phone. I knew that I may take some abuse, I wasn't expecting it so soon.


I was, for a little while, a bit shell shocked that a person who has never met me and will never meet me could harbour so much hatred towards a girl (i.e me), who lets face it, he had only exchanged a few emails with. Now I am up for a bit of banter with most men, I am from Liverpool, girls where I come from are not known for being slow with their tongue (interpret that how you like!) and we can give as good as we get. However I draw the line at being subjected to what can only be described as misogyny. Rants along the lines of all women are bitches. Lines of questioning that leave you with the impression that this person  just might install hidden cameras in a girlfriends place in case she ever got ideas of getting out of line. Better to know eh? Just a bit of peace of mind?


Honestly if anyone doesn't like what I write, don't read it, please don't read it, I never asked you to. If you find a girl who likes to talk about sex impolite, find a girl who doesn't like to talk about it. If you are really lucky with this girl who doesn't like to talk about sex she won't want the light on either. I like sex, I love talking about it, so there.


Just quickly I would like to share something that has had me laughing my arse off. My Brother has recently found God and is attending to church in the hope of finding a nice wholesome Christian girl. As my Dad said to him, no son, your right, its nice to hold hands, its enough. As I said to my Brother while I wish he had told me he was gay or had always felt like he was really a woman, you know, something I could understand, in time I would come to accept his faith.

Saturday 14 August 2010

Things didnt go to plan...

What's a girl to do... I was all set to get in some further phone sex practice last night when events conspired to make it impossible.My cat was sick and needed looking after so that had to take priority over brushing up on my techniques.

I swear my cat is going to give me a heart attack, he practically lives at the vets at the moment, the precise nature of his health problems, a mystery as of yet, to all concerned. Some days he is full of beans, his usual PTSD self, hissing and growling and generally looking in need of an AK47.Yet on other days he can barely breathe and does not have the energy to raise his objections to the world in the ways I have grown used to and fond of.

For anyone out there, please feel free to say a prayer for my pussy ;)



Wednesday 11 August 2010

This is all starting to get competitive...

Let me explain why things are starting to get competitive. As I have mentioned I have been getting in as much phone sex practice as possible in readiness for when my new venture is up and running. However a strange twist in the sessions has occurred. They are becoming marathons of what can only be described as unadulterated filth, games of verbal sexual chicken to see how far each party will go and who has the best imagination. I think I am winning but I am expecting a rematch in the very near future.

As for when the venture will be fully up and running, hopefully very soon. For anyone following I am going to be posting more information about who I am and what services I will be offering on my website which you can find here.



Saturday 7 August 2010

Dirty Weekend

I haven't been online much in the last few days as I've been catching up on sleep as and when it has been possible. The friend I mentioned who is helping me perfect all the naughty sex chat I want to offer has an even wackier sleep pattern than I do. This is due to his job in the army so when it's practice time I need to be awake... thank god for Kenco and a steady supply of Marlboro lights.

I'd like to say its a tough gig, that lack of sleep is getting to me but I am enjoying every second of this adventure. I don't think phone sex is something you could engage in as a profession if you were not passionate about all things sexual and were not a naughty minx by nature. What has surprised me is that it's kind of providing a creative outlet for me, an opportunity to be imaginative. It is deeply satisfying turning someone on to the point where they cannot help but to come without ever touching them or have them touch or see you. It does just go to show that the most powerful sexual organ is the brain.

Thursday 5 August 2010

The last two days

Eventful couple of days... where to begin?

To start with my sleep pattern has completely gone to hell in a hand basket. This is because I have been practising intimate chat, different scenarios and requests with a helpful friend who works away. However the job they do means they keep very odd hours so as a consequence so have I. Still practice makes perfect.

All this sex chat at bizarre hours of the day and night has left me very tired for my summer job were I work as a clerical assistant until uni starts back again. It is, believe me, as interesting as it sounds but the people who I work with are friendly and nice so its not all bad. Yesterday the boss offered me a job when I graduate. Stood in front of him, all tight pencil skirt and glasses, I did wonder, with something of a wry smile, what he would think if he knew what my future career plans actually were.

Other good news from yesterday was that my exam results were posted up. The exam result I was dreading was from a psychology course however I surprised myself and got 80%. Given my result after work I decided that a deserved a treat. I went sex toy shopping on line. I got a cute blue vibrator and I am looking forward to playing when that present to self arrives in the post.

Tuesday 3 August 2010

A little about me

My name is Yasmin, Im 21, 5ft 7 with long dark hair and green eyes. Iam a curvy size 8 with 32C breasts and long shapely legs. I look fit and athletic because I work out a couple of times a week. I enjoy kickboxing and also running. It gives me lots of energy and stamina and helps to keep my body slim and toned.

I am a student, looking forward to starting the final year of degree. I have been worried about graduating next year given the current economic circumstances. However crisis is just another word for opportunity and I hope that the new career path Im embarking on is just that, an opportunity to turn a hobby into a career. I intend to provide intimate chat as a telephone service sometime in the very near future.

The reason I have set up this blog is so that I can share this journey with others and give you a glimpse at the life of a good girl being very very naughty. In all the right ways of course ;-) .
 
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