My name is Bry and I work as a receptionist in a large corporation. I am outgoing in my personality, but it wasn't always the way. I had a pretty rough time of it in high school. I was a bit short and chubby and certainly not one of the 'cool kids', and was constantly teased. I was very nerdy in my bland prescription glasses. The girls were always worse than the boys with their insidious taunts. My big breasts made sport uncomfortable, but I soon learnt that they had significant advantages in sports of a sexual nature! They are 22DD in the Australian vernacular which I think is about a 44 band size in the U.S.
While I am professional and demure at work, I am an outrageous goth girl, most of my work colleagues know this and embrace it. I really connected with the goth music scene in my late teens. I got right into the likes of bands such as "Fields of Nephilim" and "The Prodigy", and a whole lot of my local goth bands. I love the eroticised sense of fashion that pervades the goth culture, the stark blackness that contrasts against pallid skin and ghostly makeup. I love the juxtaposition, the industrial ruggedness of leather and steel, the feminine fragility of expensive lace and silk. I love the old world macabre, but hate violence.
I lost my virginity when I was 17 to a fumbling guy at his parent's place when they were out of town. It certainly wasn't the pinnacle of my sex life, but you have to start somewhere! It was in fact sex that allowed me to build self confidence, I was good at something and that something made others (and me!) very happy. My first steady boyfriend was a much older bass player in one of the local goth bands. He was 28 and I was 19 at the time. I guess it started a fascination I had with older men. He had a pierced cock and convinced me to get my first piercing β my belly button. But I went on to get my left nipple and my labia pierced. I also have a number of tattoos. My left breast is adorned with a majestic eagle, its talon circling my aureole. Inked on the small of my back, in gothic font of course, are the words 'I'm a wild child'. Vivid twin dragons glide upon my alabaster shoulder blades.
I spend many an evening online in various chat groups including some very naughty ones, but on most Friday and Saturday nights I don my gothic fashion and cruise the alternative clubs. I've had some great spontaneous sex with guys I've met at these clubs, but most of my debauched nights these days are from guys I have met online. These are planned rendezvous', and the anticipation and expectation makes me so wet that I play with myself incessantly leading up to them, sliding my favourite toys in and out of my pussyhole. I've even anonymously posted pictures on one site, pleasuring myself, my legs spread, and my favourite pink vibrator doing its best work between my pierced pussylips.
There's nothing like planning out an erotic fantasy and putting the wheels in motion to make it come true. It is empowering. I am going to tell you about my last adventure which was about two weeks ago. I had been corresponding online with a much older guy, his name was Michael. He had sent me some clothed pictures of himself, and while he was 45, he appeared in excellent shape. I had reciprocated by sending a clothed picture of myself, resplendent in a black flowing gown, the corset underneath further accentuated my large boobs. I had previously posted online how I loved the right man to fulfil my somewhat depraved fantasies and had described one of them where I organised to meet a guy in an upmarket hotel room during a Sunday afternoon to be fucked by a plethora of toys and objects. He had bought with him a cricket kit bag that contained all manner of things. My pussy was probed and filled for hour upon hour as this guy used dildos of differing shapes and sizes, various wickedly buzzing vibrators, and a number of other objects small and large β bottles, candles and kitchen utensils on my pussy. The rules of this little escapade were that the guy was not allowed to put his cock in me. By the early evening, after I had come half a dozen times, he finally mounted my chest, buried his cock between the tunnel of my soft breasts, jerked back and forth a couple of times and covered my chest in a torrent of cum that dribbled down the sides of my boobs.
Not surprisingly, when I posted this account online, the thread lit up with guys offering to be involved in my next adventure. Michael was very intriguing online and lived in the same city as I did, so I thought I'd sound him out for a fantasy I wanted fulfilled. I wanted to be ravished by three men, preferably three older men. Have them do to me what they will, but do it caringly and without real pain. I am not in to real pain, just the hint of danger that drifts into extreme pleasure. Also, I wanted to be blindfolded, deprived of visual stimuli. I wanted to let my mind and body merge in pleasure without the distraction of sight. When I told him by private message that this was my fantasy, he responded with the zeal that I expected, said that he would be able to find two more suitable gentlemen for the assignment. He confirmed very quickly that he had two acquaintances available, aged 49 and 50, in excellent shape and with big dicks He christened the trio "The Three Wise Fuckers". They were just over 25 years my senior at the time, but that didn't worry me. In my book, experience counts.
We chatted about the rules of the evening. We would meet in a room in a well known hotel, we would not talk, unless I felt the need to use my safe word, my pleasure would be paramount, all three guys would wear a condom but ejaculating over my body was allowed, none of my holes would be off limits, I would enter the room wearing the blindfold and would not take it off until the three men had departed the room.