I used to have a fantasy in the mid ’90’s about a guy I used to have a crush on. I wanted him desperately, yet he didn’t seem to want me, so I’d concoct how I could “get him” anyway, whether he wanted it or not. I’d go over this even with a friend of mine and we’d laugh about how we’d get him for me. We’d talk about somehow convincing him to go for a drink or a coffee and lace his drink with drugs and then how we’d help his staggering self to the parking lot and how we’d push him into the trunk and then drive him to a hotel and then get him into the room.
My friend would help get him into the room and we’d tie him to the bed so he couldn’t escape and how I’d have him blindfolded and then she would leave, her work was done, the rest was in my hands now…When he came to, he would be disoriented and not know where he was or who was doing this to him, and seeing as he was tied down, I could start to sexually stimulate him against his will, but of course his body would respond anyway, even if he didn’t want it to. I’d slowly drive him wild with sucking his cock, riding him, touching him, that soon he’d be so addicted to my sexual ministerings, that he’d fall madly in love with me and the little kidnapping at the beginning of our romance would quickly fade away and be of little more than a comical remembrance.
I would please him so totally, he’d never have had a lover see to his needs as I did and he’d be happy to become my boyfriend and have such an attentive and loving girlfriend. He just needed to be shown the light and look at me as the sexual being that I am, not just some girl he saw once in a while that he thought had a crush on him.
