The Origin of Selina 

So as you begin your journey through the murky  waters of my dirty mind like any story we need to start at the beginning.

I know origin stories are dull as with any super hero movie you just want to jump straight into the action.

Not that I am suggesting I am a super hero – I did make a guy cum in his pants after only 15 seconds of rubbing once but I think that was more down to his weakness than any power I possess.

Thank you Handjob Girl you have saved the city once more with your quick wrist and supple fingers

We can skip through my early life quite quickly.  I had a normal, happy childhood.  No angst or issues here. It was all perfectly pleasant.

I am the youngest child and have three brothers. I got my bad habits of alcohol & swearing from my Dad, my attractiveness from my mother (who was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen) and my love of comics, horror movies & video games from my brothers.

It was quite cramped in our house so I would spend a lot of time in my room.  It was there that I would retreat to my mind.

Obviously when I was younger it was an innocent place. I’d read the latest Batman comic and then just imagine what it would be like to go on adventures with the caped crusader.

As I progressed through my teenage years the fantasy turned a lot more.. dirty.

Age 8 – Batman : Thank you Selina for helping me save Gotham from the evil of the Joker. 

Ten years later – Batman : Thank you Selina for… What are you doing? Why are you getting on your knees and …ohhh I see.. Is that Catwoman you are sitting on?

As I progressed towards womanhood the innocence of my mind had all but eroded.

Growing up in the age of the Internet I had unfettered access to any kink or perversion I was curious about. Not that I watched much porn; maybe the odd video and I probably obsessed a little too much over Hentai. However my main source were erotic stories.

I would read the explicitly described acts being carried with  my hand wandering  down between my legs. I would close my eyes and imagine that I was the woman in whatever story I was reading.

The scenes would appear in my mind so vividly; it was almost as if it were happening to me.  My mouth would get wet at the thought of a passionate kiss or my nipples would harden as I imagined them being sucked. I would arch my back and let out a breathless moan as I pictured with startling clarity a cock entering me; pushing my fingers deep inside me, attempting to mimic the feel of the girth as it moved past my swollen, wet lips.

I never had any sex toys and would have to improvise should I require something more than my fingers – a particular Catwoman statue I had on my bedside table proved very useful.

I would move around the bed and act out the positions my lovers would have me in – from behind, me on top, on my back with legs high in the air.

I was controlling the action – the speed of the thrusts, the intensity. My pleasure was not dependent on the experience & adequacy of someone else but simply by the limitations of my imagination; and when it came to erotic pleasure my imagination seemed to have no limits.

Fuelled by the erotic stories I read,  night after night my imaginary host would bring me to a shuddering climax. They were intense orgasms, legs shaking as a bit hard down on the pillow to muffle the sound of my pleasure.

The pleasure of my mind kept me fulfilled and I was adequately satisfied to not rush out and experience the actual physical act.

Besides I had found that with three brothers and a Dad that looked like he would murder anyone for just looking at his daughter boys just didn’t seem comfortable coming round.

It’s not that I didn’t do anything – a few handjobs & blow jobs here & there. These quick fumbles providing more pleasure to the recipient than myself.

I was 19 before I finally had sex. Away at university I could experience what had been playing out in my mind for so long.  To have physical pleasure and not have the guy lose his erection & run away because he thought he heard my Dad walking up the path!

Like many, my first time was not that special. If it weren’t for the necessity of recording such a milestone it would not really feature.

I can’t even remember his name, he was cute and had a fit body. I think he was in one of the university’s sports teams. We had met at a party, the usual flirting and then back to his place.

There was to be no seduction, I hadn’t even got my coat off before he was all over me. His hands pawing at my breasts & gripping my arse.  I could feel how aroused he was as he grinded up against me.

This was my first time and I should have been nervous but I wasn’t. The alcohol probably helped but those many times in my bedroom… in my head… I had experienced this moment over and over.

I slowly lowered myself down and unzipped his trousers releasing him.  I ran my finger up his shaft and began to gently kiss it.  I moved up to his throbbing purple head, my intention was to tease him with my tongue. His intention was to shove it straight in my mouth.

As he unceremoniously rocked back and forth inside my mouth I concluded that my first time was not going to be what I had imagined.  This was not to be my story but his.

My tongue wrapped around his advancing member & my hands gripped at his arse cheeks, my nails digging into his skin. A battle for control over this sensual encounter was occurring but I was losing the battle.

He pulled away, clearly wishing to avoid spilling his load so early in proceedings.

“Whoa!” he said “Not so fast.” Slightly patronising from the guy who had touched my body only moments before as if he were modelling something from play doh real quick.

He suggested we get naked. No erotic removal of each other’s clothes. He even seemed a bit put out when I asked him to help with my zip on my dress. No gently kissing my neck as he slowly pulled the zip down letting the dress fall to the floor. Nope, he flustered away at the zip and worried he could lose arousal suggested I jerk him off while he unzips me.

Eventually we were naked, his cock stood proud and he told me to turn around. There was no eroticism in his command, it was if he had given up on the idea of sex and just wanted to play a game of hide and seek.

He told me to bend over and I assumed he was was going to explore my pussy with his tongue. Many times I had been in my bedroom and felt a warm tongue run along my lips to my bud and….. No he was just going to stick his cock in me.

I say stick it in me, it was not the smoothest of entries. He kind of prodded around the back of me. I swear at one point he got his phone so he could use the light to find his way; either that or he was consulting Google Maps where to locate  it.

Eventually he was inside me. I let out a moan as I felt him enter. Admittedly I had felt more pleasure feeling my Catwoman statue enter me.

He started off slow, gently rocking his hips. I moved slowly back & forth onto his cock which to his credit was impressively hard. However he told me to stop doing that and so I just rested on my elbows, arse in the air somewhat confused as to what part I play in all of this.

He began to pick up speed and soon his thrusts were wild and he clearly was enjoying himself back there.

Physically I was aroused, the quickness of his thrusts meant that by the law of averages he’d hit the right spot every now and then. But in my mind I was bored. I realised that all this was for his pleasure not mine. I was just a vessel – this was his experience, not mine.. Not ours.

I could hear him and feel him bang away at the back of me and any wonder how long he could keep it up was quickly answered as he moaned heavy and with several exaggerated thrusts shot his load into the protective sheath.

There was to be no bringing me to orgasm or an intimate cuddle. He lay on his bed exhausted and breathlessly gave me directions out of his house. When I raised an eyebrow his eyes lit up & he said ‘Unless you want to do it again later’.

I got dressed and left. Walking back to my room I wondered if this were to be my physical sex life. That I would just be a receptacle for someone else’s horny desires.

Had my imagination created a high threshold that no one could physically achieve? As I climbed into bed I laughed ‘For fuck sake Lina you are over thinking things – the first time is always shit’. 

I turned and grabbed my Catwoman statue and closing my eyes and begun to experience what that night should have been like….

ThankyouHandjobGirlyouhavesavedthecityoncemorewithyourquickwrist andsupplefingers

We can skip through my early life quite quickly.  I had a normal, happy childhood.  No angst or issues here. It was all perfectly pleasant.

I am the youngest child and have three brothers. I got my bad habits of alcohol & swearing from my Dad, my attractiveness from my mother (who was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen) and my love of comics, horror movies & video games from my brothers.

It was quite cramped in our house so I would spend a lot of time in my room.  It was there that I would retreat to my mind.

Obviously when I was younger it was an innocent place. I’d read the latest Batman comic and then just imagine what it would be like to go on adventures with the caped crusader.

As I progressed through my teenage years the fantasy turned a lot more.. dirty.

Age 8 – Batman : Thank you Selina for helping me save Gotham from the evil of the Joker. 

Ten years later – Batman : Thank you Selina for… What are you doing? Why are you getting on your knees and …ohhh I see.. Is that Catwoman you are sitting on?

As I progressed towards womanhood the innocence of my mind had all but eroded.

Growing up in the age of the Internet I had unfettered access to any kink or perversion I was curious about. Not that I watched much porn; maybe the odd video and I probably obsessed a little too much over Hentai. However my main source were erotic stories.

I would read the explicitly described acts being carried with  my hand wandering  down between my legs. I would close my eyes and imagine that I was the woman in whatever story I was reading.

The scenes would appear in my mind so vividly; it was almost as if it were happening to me.  My mouth would get wet at the thought of a passionate kiss or my nipples would harden as I imagined them being sucked. I would arch my back and let out a breathless moan as I pictured with startling clarity a cock entering me; pushing my fingers deep inside me, attempting to mimic the feel of the girth as it moved past my swollen, wet lips.

I never had any sex toys and would have to improvise should I require something more than my fingers – a particular Catwoman statue I had on my bedside table proved very useful.

I would move around the bed and act out the positions my lovers would have me in – from behind, me on top, on my back with legs high in the air.

I was controlling the action – the speed of the thrusts, the intensity. My pleasure was not dependent on the experience & adequacy of someone else but simply by the limitations of my imagination; and when it came to erotic pleasure my imagination seemed to have no limits.

Fuelled by the erotic stories I read,  night after night my imaginary host would bring me to a shuddering climax. They were intense orgasms, legs shaking as a bit hard down on the pillow to muffle the sound of my pleasure.

The pleasure of my mind kept me fulfilled and I was adequately satisfied to not rush out and experience the actual physical act.

Besides I had found that with three brothers and a Dad that looked like he would murder anyone for just looking at his daughter boys just didn’t seem comfortable coming round.

It’s not that I didn’t do anything – a few handjobs & blow jobs here & there. These quick fumbles providing more pleasure to the recipient than myself.

I was 19 before I finally had sex. Away at university I could experience what had been playing out in my mind for so long.  To have physical pleasure and not have the guy lose his erection & run away because he thought he heard my Dad walking up the path!

Like many, my first time was not that special. If it weren’t for the necessity of recording such a milestone it would not really feature.

I can’t even remember his name, he was cute and had a fit body. I think he was in one of the university’s sports teams. We had met at a party, the usual flirting and then back to his place.

There was to be no seduction, I hadn’t even got my coat off before he was all over me. His hands pawing at my breasts & gripping my arse.  I could feel how aroused he was as he grinded up against me.

This was my first time and I should have been nervous but I wasn’t. The alcohol probably helped but those many times in my bedroom… in my head… I had experienced this moment over and over.

I slowly lowered myself down and unzipped his trousers releasing him.  I ran my finger up his shaft and began to gently kiss it.  I moved up to his throbbing purple head, my intention was to tease him with my tongue. His intention was to shove it straight in my mouth.

As he unceremoniously rocked back and forth inside my mouth I concluded that my first time was not going to be what I had imagined.  This was not to be my story but his.

My tongue wrapped around his advancing member & my hands gripped at his arse cheeks, my nails digging into his skin. A battle for control over this sensual encounter was occurring but I was losing the battle.

He pulled away, clearly wishing to avoid spilling his load so early in proceedings.

“Whoa!” he said “Not so fast.” Slightly patronising from the guy who had touched my body only moments before as if he were modelling something from play doh real quick.

He suggested we get naked. No erotic removal of each other’s clothes. He even seemed a bit put out when I asked him to help with my zip on my dress. No gently kissing my neck as he slowly pulled the zip down letting the dress fall to the floor. Nope, he flustered away at the zip and worried he could lose arousal suggested I jerk him off while he unzips me.

Eventually we were naked, his cock stood proud and he told me to turn around. There was no eroticism in his command, it was if he had given up on the idea of sex and just wanted to play a game of hide and seek.

He told me to bend over and I assumed he was was going to explore my pussy with his tongue. Many times I had been in my bedroom and felt a warm tongue run along my lips to my bud and….. No he was just going to stick his cock in me.

I say stick it in me, it was not the smoothest of entries. He kind of prodded around the back of me. I swear at one point he got his phone so he could use the light to find his way; either that or he was consulting Google Maps where to locate  it.

Eventually he was inside me. I let out a moan as I felt him enter. Admittedly I had felt more pleasure feeling my Catwoman statue enter me.

He started off slow, gently rocking his hips. I moved slowly back & forth onto his cock which to his credit was impressively hard. However he told me to stop doing that and so I just rested on my elbows, arse in the air somewhat confused as to what part I play in all of this.

He began to pick up speed and soon his thrusts were wild and he clearly was enjoying himself back there.

Physically I was aroused, the quickness of his thrusts meant that by the law of averages he’d hit the right spot every now and then. But in my mind I was bored. I realised that all this was for his pleasure not mine. I was just a vessel – this was his experience, not mine.. Not ours.

I could hear him and feel him bang away at the back of me and any wonder how long he could keep it up was quickly answered as he moaned heavy and with several exaggerated thrusts shot his load into the protective sheath.

There was to be no bringing me to orgasm or an intimate cuddle. He lay on his bed exhausted and breathlessly gave me directions out of his house. When I raised an eyebrow his eyes lit up & he said ‘Unless you want to do it again later’.

I got dressed and left. Walking back to my room I wondered if this were to be my physical sex life. That I would just be a receptacle for someone else’s horny desires.

Had my imagination created a high threshold that no one could physically achieve? As I climbed into bed I laughed ‘For fuck sake Lina you are over thinking things – the first time is always shit’. 

I turned and grabbed my Catwoman statue and closing my eyes and begun to experience what that night should have been like….

Now go experience my Evolution

4 Comments

  1. It’s true, the first time is always shit. However, there are guys out there who will take their time on you, and fulfill every dark desire you have. Personally, I would have spent a great deal of time with my face between your thighs. But, what I really want to know is: What is it that you desire?

    Liked by 1 person

    • The truth of my desires will slowly be revealed in this blog.. Spoilers hun Spoilers

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Boys are stupid. They really are and this dude was a perfect example. There are good ones out there, but I’m discovering they are increasingly hard to point out.
    Ok, on to the next part of the story…

    Like

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