ass ! My try to kill Kennedy did n't work.

I 've been trying to kill her for a spell now, the big problem is Kennedy International Airport does n't really exist. Jack Kennedy is me, or at to the lowest degree one part of my personality. It 's that office which Matt met first. It was that parting that which he fell in lovemaking with, but never told me. She 's a bitch, and matte likes that about her. I want to be me, I want to be Kiki, I 'm a a good deal nicer person, and flatness likes that about me. Matt can get confused ( and confusing ) like that.

I thought I 'd finally belt down her when we had a opportunity at a new offset. We 'd spent two years working in different cities, and commuting to see each other each workweek. During that time, Kennedy had shown up periodically and been his perfect bitch, or made him her cunt. You probably do n't require to know what the bitch did to him, or you 've read his write up of that. I just wanted to be the arrant slovenly woman for Matt, `` the adulteress '' is what Kennedy calls me, I wear that label with pride.

We had our new outset, Matt and I moved in together finally, and I invited Jack Kennedy to join us. I took back More of Kennedy 's personality for myself, those routine that mat, and Kennedy, savour so often. And you know what, we both enjoyed it. He willingly let me abuse him, I had so practically fun doing that, and so did he. He never seems to enjoy what John Fitzgerald Kennedy does to him, enjoy is n't what he was looking for, but when I did those Same affair, he 'd get such a big grin, I was worried I was doing it wrong. But, he assured me I was n't. I let myself revel it, and he enjoyed my enjoyment. We got a courteous big feedback closed circuit going there, we both got off so much on it.

So why has Matt just sent President Kennedy a textual matter ? Of course, JFK has a separate number, I got a burner for that. I thought it was role swordplay, but I 'm never sure when it comes to Matt 's sensing, he has strange ways of looking at the world. Sometimes, I really am convinced he sees me and Kennedy as separate people. The text was elementary, just `` ? ''. So I texted back asking what he wanted, and then `` Does n't the fornicatress do that for you ? '' I mean, I did n't make love what he wanted, that I was n't already doing to him.

It took him a patch to resolve that, and I stewed and worried, what was I doing wrong ? Then I got my answer, his reply : `` She loves me. '' I really did laugh out loud at that, luckily he was n't in earshot when I got that. He does have some sentience ( very little ), so when he 's arranging apportionment with his mistress ( i.e. Kennedy International Airport ), I 'm nowhere near. See what I mean about perceptions.

First, I 'm relieved, I 'm not doing anything wrong. As the birdcall says, if loving you is awry, I do n't want to be right. Jack Kennedy is a heartless gripe, that 's how I, and she, would identify her. She 'd bust that label with superbia. But, now what am I supposed to do ?

I did the only thing I could do, release the new President Kennedy. The new Kennedy was even More heartless, I 'd already taken most of her, there was small left to be her. I was also pissed. That is not the justly frame of mind to recruit into a BDSM scene with, mea culpa. So the new Kennedy was also pissed. My plan was to make affair so unpleasant, he 'd never need to see Kennedy again, public lecture about misreading a situation. I 'm supposed to be the one who can read things like that.

I turned up unexpectedly, typical Jack Kennedy. flatness was working at home, I transformed myself into Kennedy ( you know the trick SuperMan does with that shabu, so no one recognizes him, that 's how I do it. ) I just barged in and started being Kennedy. I was wearing the dominatrix outfit I like. I was going to use the horse party whip he hates ( the one that had been a birthday present from Matt to Kennedy ), though he had let Kiki use it on him. That was another matter President John F. Kennedy was pissed about, that he 'd let Kiki use it, but not her. I told him I was doing it for my benefit, not his. I told him not to use the safe parole, or I 'd lead. I was surprised exactly how practically that turned him on. I made him distinguish me what he wanted me to do to him, he hates that, he just wants to be done to, without any input.

I did n't even tie him up ; he does lie with being tied up. I even abused his balls ( with the whip ), he 's always been deathly afraid of me doing that. He still was, but he let me do it. However much I tried to make it unpleasant for him, it just turned him on more. He has some very weird thought, in some stinking corner of his judgment, I was managing to tap into some of the to the lowest degree pleasant ones. I really should experience been able to study him better. I 'm supposed to be the one with the people skill, and Matt is the most vaporous human being being on the planet. He surprised me there.

I also miscalculated how difficult to hit him, or I let my angriness get the better of me. I laid into him as hard as I could, with the horsewhip on his posterior. I was expecting the safe Word of God to come out, and JFK would be dead. There was some screeching, then he was pipe down, unresponsive. I 'd managed to send him right into sub blank space. That 's an neuter state of knowingness that submissives can get into when stressed. He usually gets there after going down on a lot of pussy.

I really did n't make love what to do, but I reasoned that when he came out he 'd demand some TLC. I did n't want Jack Kennedy to be there for that, so I changed back to being Kiki and roused him. He was really demonstrative about how much he loved me when he was roused, totally high. I was glad President Kennedy was n't there for that, he seemed to be imprinting on me. It was only when he said how tasty my cunt looked that I realized how plough on I was. Fucking hell on earth, was I turned on. Being Kennedy International Airport and abusing Matt will turn me on, and I 'm not that comfortable with that. I 'd been so worry about him ; I did n't even realize I was turned on.

So I rode his font and came a few times, then blew him, that was when he finally snapped out of it, and he realized his seat hurt. I felt really guilty about that, I tried to be extra nice to him.

So now what ?

I tried again. This clip I 'd cook it so bad, he 'd never want to see Kennedy International Airport again. I took bank note, I worked out exactly how knockout I could thrum him, and not experience him skid into subspace. Then, Kennedy put in an appearance again. It went much the same as the first time, but this clip it hurt him. Again, I did n't tie him up, but he could n't cope with that. I 'd told him to keep his hands out of the way, but eventually he could n't. He covered his butt, and he cried even harder while apologizing to me for failing. I 'm not certain if the pain, or the nonstarter was worse for him. He 'd already been crying, Kennedy Interrnational likes to abridge him to tears. He was so discompose that he could n't do as he was told, I took pity on him and tied him up. Then, I beat him mercilessly.

And it turned me on. Again, I was surprised how much it turned me on. Kennedy International Airport does get turned on by it, but exactly how much was a surprisal. After about half an hour of the merciless torture, I could n't stand it anymore. I shoved my pussy in his face, telling him, `` The Sooner I come, the Sooner I get back to whipping you. ``

I was looking forward to one of his nice, long, irksome, teasing execution. Ye god, those are good. I was expecting him to want a rest period, and I was offering him the chance. He should have been able-bodied to sustain me on edge for at least half an hour, but he got me off as quick as he could. That was just about instantly. God that was an astound orgasm, I was n't expecting it, it just knocked me flat. What really got to me was the realization he actually wanted me to be so coarse to him.

As I said, I was not comfortable with the way Kennedy was treating him, and how it was turning me on. But, he just gave me permit to do that to him. I took his permission and ran with it, once I managed to move again after that orgasm. I 'd bewilder him until I could n't stand it any more, then get him to get me off. If I 'd sensed any hesitation in that, I could n't have carried on, but he was just as keen as I was to get on with it. I must take done that five times, his butt was a good deal for days after that. Again, as Kiki, I felt shamed and was excess prissy to him.

So I gave up on my try to pour down Kennedy Interrnational, I let her endure my spoilt fantasies. You know what ? I know all his clitoris, I know how to get to him. I can wind him up so badly, while turning myself on, that he 'll postulate it out on Kiki, on me. I love that, I ca n't usually get him to treat me like that without him bursting into tears. As often as I hate Kennedy Interrnational, she does have her usance .