Chameleon logged in at 23:45 Mon 5 Nov 2001
RoughMup paged at 20:01 Mon 5 Nov 2001 from Private Room Dirty Chat
Chameleon: Hey Rough!
RoughMup: bout time girl.
Chameleon: Sorry. Busy day.
RoughMup: Tell me bout it.
Chameleon: Naw. It's heavy shit.
Chameleon: I think I'll be a cowgirl tonight. I'll wear tight low cut blue jeans, a saucy cowgirl hat, red cowgirl boots, and a blue flannel tied under my heavy breasts.
RoughMup: Don't tease. Tell my about your day.
Chameleon: You aren't going to ask about my heavy boobs.
RoughMup: Later. Maybe. Spill.
Chameleon: Okay. You asked, so don't blame me if it ruins the mood.
I started the day off with my sister. She picked me up at 8 in the morning to go shopping. Now I think 8 am is a discussing hour. It's way too early to be alive. I got up and put on all my designer label wear. If Amy shows up and I'm wearing a t-shirt and jeans she throws a fit. As to not incur her wrath I make drastic compromises to my comfort.
I looked great, don't doubt that, but I felt like a traitor to casual wear. We spent the next three hours shopping in stores I couldn't afford and I spent that entire time listening to Amy tell me the steps I need to take in order to improve my life. She thinks I need a better job. She thinks I need a better wardrobe. She thinks I need a better man. I swear there is nothing Amy approves of in my life. Except, perhaps, the Gucci boots I purchased to shut her up. I'm going to eat those boots for a month unless Tom gives me money for food.
RoughMup: Damn girl. I'll set a hit man on your Nazi sister the moment I win the lottery.
Chameleon: LOL. I wish she was all my troubles. That was only the first couple of hours of my day from hell.
RoughMup: What could be worse than the Nazi?
Chameleon: Tom, my boyfriend.
RoughMup: Go on. I like to hear shit about your boy. Makes me think I have a fighting chance.
Chameleon: There's no comparison. You win hands up. If only we could meet, my dreams would be fulfilled.
RoughMup: Ha! And yet I deny you. Tell me more bout Tommy boy.
Chameleon: LOL He hates it when people call him Tommy. Say's it reminds him of that awful rock opera by the Who.
Well, as you know, Tom is going out of town on business for a month. He left at 2 pm this afternoon. He's been pressuring me about this afternoon since he heard about the trip. He said he wanted to have something special to remember me by. Something that would hold him for a whole month. Anytime he talks about something 'special' I know that means he wants me to fulfill one of his fantasies.
This time he decided we should role play. I could dress up as a French maid and he would dress up as, well, himself only hornier. When he first mentioned the whole scenario I objected. I told him it made me uncomfortable. The one place I get to be completely myself with him is in the bedroom. I didn't tell him that part, I just said I would be uncomfortable. We argued for about a minute and then I gave in.
So this afternoon I dressed up like a French maid. I dusted the bookcase, I spoke to him in broken French, and then I let him do me up the ass. It was pretty good sex, and all, but I felt like it did something bad to our relationship. I feel like I gave up something by playing a part for him in the bedroom. I play a part everyday in every aspect of my life. I even put a face on to make him happy day in and out, but he never before asked me to be fake in bed.
RoughMup: I have to break in here because you gave me a major woody talking about that French maid uniform. Damn girl.
RoughMup: Now that I've told you I'm tenting, let's move onto more serious matters. What about us? What about in here? You're always someone else with me.
Chameleon: It's different. I choose who I am with you. If I wanna be a cowgirl, or cheerleader, or even French Maid, then I will be that person. You don't dictate who I am. You don't even ask me to be anyone specific. You're just happy that I'm here, in whatever form I choose.
RoughMup: That's casue you always turn me on, babe. If you're online I know I'll get off.
Chameleon: Thanks, Rough. That's sweet.
RoughMup: Fuck sweet. I'm a horny bastard looking to shoot my load.
RoughMup: But I digress. You were telling me about your day.
Chameleon: We don't have to talk about that anymore, Rough.
RoughMup: If you don't tell me now you will tell me later. I'd rather play with a relaxed Chameleon than a Chameleon that's strung tight as a virgin twat.
Chameleon: LOL You have a way with words, Rough. I like it. Well, so, my boyfriend fucked me and then left town.
I thought I was free to relax but then my friend Clair showed up. I wish I didn't have to call her my friend, because she drives me batty, but she's been my friend through some really rough times. She is one of those artsy people. I always find her on my doorstop when my number comes up on her list of absentee friends. I was in my pajamas when she arrived. Unbeknownst to me, pajamas are perfectly decent attire for visiting a coffee house. She literally pulled me out of the house and hauled my ass to her "favorite spot."
The rest of the evening we spent talking and drinking coffee. I just got home. She dropped me off about 10 minutes before I got online. It was nice talking, and all, but the talk was quasi deep. Everyone expressed their opinions but only as far as PC behavior allowed. We even talked about sex. I tried to mention my experiences with you and my other friends online, but that was quickly stifled. They didn't want to hear about my "chat ho's". That's what one of them called you, my chat ho. I was insulted and hurt. All their pretence of candidness was fake.
I think you are the only person that really knows me, Rough. Everyone else expects me to be some predefined person.
RoughMup: Don't be saying nice things about me, cowgirl. I have expectations of you.
Chameleon: Like?
RoughMup: Like, I expect you to be on time. And I expect you to get me off.
Chameleon: I like getting you off, Rough. I have the best sex ever with you.
RoughMup: Does this mean I should put on my dusty cowboots and a ten gallon hat?
Chameleon: Yeah. And tight jeans. No shirt. You sure are sweaty, Rough, have you been working hard?
RoughMup: Nope. All I did was look at you.
Chameleon: You sure did, Rough. You see me the best.
The End
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