Rambling Again

Lust, desire unabated
Longing coursing through me
Staunchly checked
Biding time until she is with me
Biting my tongue
Never pressuring her for time
Constrained is her world
Time is limited
Responsibilities demanding
I am her down time
Her solace and respite
I miss her presence
I want her laughter; her light
I find things to occupy me
Yet always the onus is on her
But I defer
No pressure, never that
In her time
I look at her pictures
I read her words
I close my eyes and taste her
I sense her touch with my mind
And wait…
It is always the same when she comes to me
She appears and within minutes I take her
Claiming her mine and marking her
Ensuring my scent is on her
Only then am I able to escape the longing and need
I drink deeply from her and am refreshed
I am dehydrated, parched, or desperately thirsty
Quench me Lover, please

Crazed and Confused

Here is a poem I received from Mr. D while I was away at Burning Man.  As soon as I hit the pavement, leaving the dust behind, I found these words waiting for me.  I love his thoughts of us.  I loved feeling him across the miles.  It was a very long fevered drive home but I finally was able to be in his arms again.
I sit here contemplating us
A cold beverage a smoky cigar
Need and desire unwavering
I think of you 
I am heartened that I have you
Crazed that you are away
Awaiting your return
I think of you
Looking through the smoke
 Feeling the sun on my skin
A lover’s caress
I think of you
 Tasting the alcohol on my lips
I am parched
Only you can quench my thirst
I think of you
I am filled with desire
Wanting your lips
Needing your touch
I think of you
I am crazed and confused
Needing your presence
Wanting your light
I think of you…
Image Available Under Creative Commons Licensing and Attributed to

The Darkness

boris_vallejoLast night, yes, last night again.

Last night we talked about duality.  MrD mentioned that he feels a duality towards me and I realized he had put into words something that had been on the edges of my mind.  He said that sometimes he wants to hold me and love me and protect me but other times he just wants to take what he wants without asking or caring what I want.  I have a similar duality.  I love how I feel in his arms and how I love him but I also want to be debased by him, be his little slut who will do anything to please.

During our play last night, MrD got very rough.  We had already had sex earlier, already felt the tiredness in our bones. Once he started and I knew where he was going, I ached for it.  The harder and rougher he got the more I craved.  I wanted everything he gave.

Once he was inside me he began to slap my breasts.  He made me hold them up so that they were towering between us. I am a big girl, so I am amply proportioned there.  He placed my hands on each side of my breasts pushing them up and together so that they were presented to him.  He slapped one and then the other.  As soon as he heard my gasps of pain he would thrust deep inside me.  The pain and the pleasure spiraled within me and I couldn’t stop the gasping and crying out with each slap and thrust combination.

He told me while he was deep inside me that I was his, I was his slut, his girl, that I was only for him.  I could see the sadism darkening his eyes and I was entranced by it.  I swear, in that moment, I was under a spell.  The pain was pushing me forward, pushing me to want to be every dirty thing he wanted of me.  I had no sense of fear, all I felt in that moment was need to be what he desired, to be that slut that would take it all and do whatever he asked.Boris-Vallejo-001422

His fire and his base need to abuse me threw me into a whirlwind of shocking pleasure.  I was incinerated by his thrusts deeper and harder even as the pain in my breasts pulled the gasps from me ever more frequently.  I met his thrusts with my hips and moved with him.  His growl penetrated the sensations, “Good girl, ride your Daddy.”

As our thrusts got more and more fervent, he asked me what I wanted.  I was surprised at my answer, “You know what I want.”  Honestly, in that moment I felt so completely overtaken by the thrusting that I couldn’t put a thought together to speak.  But Daddy was in charge and wouldn’t put up with that.  He said, “No, what do you want?”

I groaned and finally found the words, “Come on me Daddy, I want you to come on me!”

A few thrusts later he pulled out and covered my belly with his fluids.  I reached down and rubbed them into my belly, my skin.  It felt like my reward, my gift for accepting all the intensity of the moments before.

I am his desire and I will submit to his every whim.  I wish to ride the waves of his duality and find mine matching it each step of the way.  From the beast to the man, I will be his muse, his girl, his slut until he tells me otherwise.

Bring me Life

le_ravissement_de_psyche-largeI am here with MrD and my body is aching in that way that only happens when you have abused it so many times that you just can’t abuse it any further. And yet…

And yet, I still want him.  I still ache for him inside me.  I still want to feel his weight press me down into the bed and for him to take me until there is nothing left of either of us but the ashes.

Last night was beyond…beyond words really.  I will attempt to put words to the feelings, to the actions, to the play…but they will pale by comparison.

When I arrived at his place, we spent time relaxing and then went to the bedroom to lie down and feel each other close.  I call the right side of his chest “Home”.  I feel more peaceful in his arms than anywhere on this earth.  It is a place and yet it is not a place at all.  It is the connection of my soul to his, of my body to his, of my heat to his.  Why does touch hold such a deep carnal and soul completing place in our psyches?  I touch him and I am immediately calmed, relaxed, melting.  I cannot stop touching his skin, feeling the soft fur that covers his body.  It is as if my fingers are addicted and through their travels over his body their cravings are sated.  Though, the satiation never lasts for I am an addict in this need for touching him.

When I was in the midst of this thrall of touch, he rose and pulled off my shorts.  He put himself between my legs and I felt my body succumb to his lips and tongue.  He has a talent for turning me inside out with the sensations that he sends through me from that very core of my feminine being.  I lost myself to the waves of pleasure and the feelings that his tongue and mouth elicited from me.  I am greedy, so very greedy for I ache for him inside me while he is having his way pleasing me.  The longer his mouth is on me, the harder it is for me to keep still and allow the pleasure that he gives.  That is hard to admit, for a submissive should not have the choice to allow or not.  A submissive serves and in this service pleases.  To acquiesce is what is demanded at this time, I do my best but ultimately I have an all stripping need for him inside me that I can’t not voice.  I beg for it, then.  At first, he denies me.  He wants to give the pleasure, he is in command.  I whimper but obey and the pleasure of what he does washes me further into the tide.  But, oh, the need mounts.  I bite it back, I tremble with the effort but in the end I am weak and I beg yet again.

At some point, he takes pity on my tortured psyche and allows my desire.  Then he mounts me and I am simply carried away from all other thought but the feeling of him inside me, the stretching of my body to accept his.  In this moment, all I can sense is the joining of our two bodies to one.  The smell of sex fills the room, his weight pins my body to the bed, his legs push mine apart.  Oh, how I revel in the feel as we become one.  As soon as I have what I want though, it is not enough.  Waves of pleasure roll from him to me and back.  I am beyond the need and far into the want of him.  I want him deeper and further inside me than is possible.  This want of him fills my mind, my senses, my soul.  I want him to abuse me until we are merged into one person.  I want him to drill completely through me until he has mashed me completely into his bed.  What is it that he does to bring this out in me?  I don’t need an answer, just more of him.

I fear I will never be able to satisfy this addiction completely.  But I do know I am having a sinful good time in the effort.  And I have not gotten to the story of last night that I started out telling.

To be continued…