I Want

He tweaks my nipple and I want him.  

He left to play golf many many miles away.

I want a facefucking in the worst way.

I want to be used, abused and taken.

I want his cock deep inside me.  

I want his fingers down my throat as he fucks me sore.

I want to be on my knees for him.

I want…

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Rudderless

-i-b-the-gulf-stream
The Gulf Stream – Winslow Homer

From Mr. D.  He wrote this but chose not to post it because he wouldn’t impugn me.  He is a good man.  We are in a much, much better place today than two weeks ago.  I post this to remind me and to show all the raw hardness of life.  I learn and move forward.  I stand before him naked and bare.  I will not flinch, I will be better and do better.

Rudderless:

I am in pain. I am fighting within my soul for the sanctity of my being. I love a creature that is caring, epitomizes my desires in ethereal form, and is divine in her capacity to fuse my dreams with reality. Yet, she cannot follow the one tenet I require. Honestly communicate with me.
I will rise to any occasion. I will champion that which doesn’t deserve it. I will support the underdog and provide for all if they just treat me with honest respect… Never lie to me. Never tell me a half-truth. Never protect me from your feelings – if something or someone else touches your soul – amen. That doesn’t detract from us. It is separate and beautiful in its own right. Just be honest. Love is the answer not the question.

 

I placed myself in her life behind her son and her well-being. In so many instances I needed her and did not ask so as not to impart stress or force a choice between her or her son’s needs and myself. I would bide my time and when she was free; we would explode in light and love. Planning for when he was grown we would continue to grow without limits. I never acted in anger, fear, spite, or malice. I want peace in my life and a loving meaningful and explorative kinky love that allows personal growth for all.

 

I am unhinged, off the wagon, and in my darkest place. I am intoxicated and wallowing in self-pity. Feeling inadequate and self-abhorrent because I could not fill the void – I could not meet her need and demanded more than she could give. Her life before me was rife with stress due to a partner that was raging, chemical dependent, and volatile… a son that is at once empathetic, compassionate, and loving and fully ADHD. She bears the scars and walks upright as a survivor. I am awed by her. I love her. I love what we have and yet my trust is shaken. I am wholly unnerved and lost in doubt.

 

I know not what to do and feel adrift at sea… oarless. rudderless. at the mercy of fate.

Image available through Public Domain – Winslow Homer, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Banter

Why banter?  Well, I was looking for a word.  One that would describe how Daddy and I were talking with each other last night.  He wanted me to suck his cock.  He had mentioned it while we were watching a movie.  Afterwards, we were snuggling on the bed and I had my hand on his cock.  Stroking it.  Feeling it grow from softness to hardness in my hand.  I love feeling it grow. He was teasing me.  I must ask for permission to suck his cock. For some reason, I resist having to ask.  Last night, it was intentional resistance.  I wanted to push him.  I felt a little bratty.  I try to resist the desire to be outright bratty but sometimes I do like to play with him.  I test the waters, so to speak.  Recently, I’ve wondered about disobedience and if that can be an intensity builder.  But, I digress.

“What are you doing there baby girl?”  I had been caressing him and I purposefully put my hand on his cock.

“I’m touching your cock Daddy.”

“No baby girl, that is your cock.” We’ve been going back and forth with pronouns lately.  He owns all my parts, they belong to him, they are his ass and his pussy, etc.  So, his cock being mine is reciprocal.  Except that it just continually trips up my language to his utter entertainment.

“Yes, Daddy.  My cock.”  My hand swirled around the shaft, feeling it grow and thicken.

“What do you want to do with your cock?  Well, he damned well knew I wanted to suck it but I was contemplating how much of an annoyance I wanted to be at that moment.

“Well, I want to do several things to it Daddy.”

He placed a thumb under my chin to force me to look up at him.  His lips met mine.  Then his index finger caressed the top of my tongue.  He takes possession of my mouth this way and suddenly he has my undivided attention.  His finger went all the way down my throat and hooked onto the back of my tongue making me wince and cough.  I was trapped.  His lips kissed my cheek near my ear.

“You will get up, take off your clothes and get on top of me.  Do you understand?” I nodded.  So much for my silly games.  He changed direction completely. I got up off the bed and stripped off my clothes.  Naked, I returned to the bed and knelt near his waist.  I threw a leg over him and as I was mounting him, he got out the Hitachi vibrator.  I have such a love hate relationship with that piece of equipment.  He brings me to orgasm with it so I love it but I have no control over it and I don’t always feel prepared for the level of intensity it provides. I know he loves it for just the same reasons I hate it.

He put the wand in between our bodies so the head was right on my clit and turned it on.  Then he said, “Move.” I had already put his cock up inside me so now I began to move on top of him.  Slowly I found a rhythm and began to fuck his cock.  The sensation of the vibrator on me while I worked his cock in and out was amazing.  I knew what he wanted.  He wanted me to orgasm for him.  I did not feel the tightening in my gut that I usually feel when an orgasm is coming.  He kept me on top of him, fucking him and at some point he turned the speed up on the vibrator.  That insane level of vibration should just push me right over the edge but it wasn’t.  Something must have shown on my face because he pulled me to him.

“Stop stressing.  Stop chasing the orgasm.  Don’t stress.  Hear me?” I nodded and realized then that I was wound really tight trying to give him what he wanted.  I don’t know why that happens.  Sometimes, things are just slightly off for me and if I don’t feel my body perform for him then I start to get stressed.  I’ve never faked it, I never saw the point.  Plus, I’m a horrible actress.  Daddy specifically told me never to fake it with him so I never would.  He has chosen to help me with this so I try my best not to let any of it get me twisted.  But I guess, right then, I had.

“Get down baby girl.” He turned me over on my side and I slipped off him.  He pointed to the bed.  “Face down in the middle of the bed.”  I obeyed.  The next thing I felt was the big flogger making contact with my ass cheeks.  It was heavy and I felt my ass cheeks bounce up as the impact ran across my flesh.  He landed a couple strikes on one cheek and then the other.  I squirmed as the falls connected with my skin.  I had not expected a flogging.  The falls struck my lower back and then my ass again.  He draped the flogger across my back.  The weight of it pinned me down while I felt his face push into my ass.  Then his tongue thrust into my asshole with a warm wetness that was in such contrast to the hard hits of the flogger.  I moaned out in pure pleasure.  It was amazing and decadent.  I love when he does that.

After the sweet torture of multiple rounds of flogger vs. tongue, he told me to lie flat and lift my ass in the air.  From this angle, he put his legs on either side of mine and mounted me.  His cock pushed in between my closed legs and into my tightly held pussy.  In this position, his legs force mine closed and he braces himself by putting his hands on my shoulders.  With his body pressing mine into the bed, I am trapped and in for a ride.  His hands hold me down and he fucks me while I’m under his weight.

At some point, we flipped to me on my side. He loves this position because it gives him access to my ass. The last time we were together, he had wanted to have anal sex and I begged out of it.  It was our mid-week night together and I was having a bad work week.  I just couldn’t get my head off the day and relaxed.  So, now, he teased my ass again with that still hanging in the air.

“Girl, you will be giving me your ass soon.  Not tonight but very soon.”

“Yes Daddy.  I will…I want to.” With him being so girthy, it takes time and it takes me being in a good mental place to do it.  I love giving him that.  I love that I’m the only person who has.  And, I really love anal sex.  It does something to me.  It brings out the visceral, the animal.  I make the oddest animal noises when he plays with my ass or fucks me there.  It’s very, very intense for me.

He bent my leg up and entered me from behind.  As he did that I could feel drops of lube on my asshole.  I knew what came next.  His finger pushed inside my ass.  I gripped the bed sheets with my hands.  Initially, it is always uncomfortable but soon the pleasure outpaces that.  I moaned.  I cried out.  He pushed his finger into me again.

His cock pushed in again then his finger repeated the stroke in my backside.  I was moaning consistently now.  I simply can’t control it.  He was talking to me. “Girl you are in my head.  You have been from the very beginning.”

I know I was talking to him.  He winds me up and then I’m in some trance and I beg him, I talk to him in some trance-like state. “Yes Daddy, fuck me.  God, yes, please.  My ass is yours.  Take it.  Take my ass.  You will have it.  I’m yours.” I don’t know what more I say or how.  Maybe he can understand or maybe not.  I have no idea.  I’m twisting for him by then.  At some point, I hear him yell and I feel his body shaking as he orgasms.  God, I love that.

Depression

I’ve been fighting a mild case of depression for a couple weeks now. I’m not really sure why. All I know is that my usual endless amounts of energy to do and accomplish are not where they need to be. I’m slow to respond to needs at work. I’ve decorated my home for the holidays but it took days to convince myself it needed to be done. 

I had a rare evening to myself last night. I planned to wrap gifts while no one was around and do my at-home paperwork while I had a quiet house. What did I do? I came home from dropping my son at a concert, ate take-out and binge watched Netflix. Granted, it’s been months since I’ve watched anything I wanted to watch. I don’t ever watch TV other than what someone else put on. Still, this lethargic miasma I’m wading through as got to go.
I’m pretty sure the only way to get rid of it is to just keep plodding through and forcing myself to get things done. It’s nothing like the crippling depression many people experience. I’m being a bit of a whiner here because I know I’m one of the very fortunate people who are upbeat most of the time. I usually shake off the troubles of life with humor or by just moving on. I don’t hold onto the past much because I tend to have a poor memory for it. It used to bother me when people would bring up experiences in the past that I had absolutely no recollection experiencing. But, I realize now that it serves me well to forget. I see friends of mine holding grudges and see how carrying that pain weighs them down. 

What to do? Just keep moving, I guess. Like Dory in Finding Nemo. 

Awaken

  I awaken to you

My hand reaching to touch

The smell of you heady and present

Languid with sleep and yet

Tormented by you.

Knowing the distance 

In time and pavement

Between this dark night

And the one that takes me

Back to you.

Please

Let the empty space here

Be the dream 

And not the reality.


Image from Pixabay through CC0 Public Domain

Trepidation 

  

Do you ever wake up with the feeling that something is wrong?  I woke up feeling that way. My go to reaction is self blame.  My list of things to do today is not insurmountable, everything on the surface looks fine, but still I feel a heaviness.  

Rather than walk around like I’m beaten before I begin, I need to get off my ass and attack this day.  I’ve been strong in my life but not always proactive.  I’m a hard ass worker but not always in a smart, directed way.  Time for change. 

I’ve been letting the tail wag the dog too much.  Time to get off my ass and make change happen the way I want it.
Image from Pixabay through CC0 Public Domain

Powerless

220px-Attackofthe50ftwoman

Every word drips from my lips

Into a sieve and squeezes through

To a jumbled mess at the bottom

Of a life sized bowl of alphabet soup.

From my vantage over the quagmire

I feel like the 50 Foot Woman

With arms as long as bridges and

Legs and thighs that go on for days.

My bikini is vast and my cleavage

Is the Grand Canyon.

But still the words dribble out of my lips

And float like clouds instead

Of falling with the weight of pearls.

The crowds filling the landscape

Around my feet have no fear

Of my words crushing them

And yet they stare up

At the expanse of my sex

Hungry.