Reflections and writings of a Dominant woman, on control and on power exchange, on the depths of D/s and the dynamics of Female Led Relationships, on ownership and possession, on pain and on love, on chastity and denial, on feelings and on thoughts, on life and loss, fantasies and desires, wants and wishes, longings and needs. On sadistic feelings and on seductive visions. On life.
She was led on the bed propped up against pillows, leaning to one side, her head gently resting on her hand as she watched him standing by the side of the bed. He stood there, slowly removing his clothes, his eyes not breaking the stare that she held him in.
There was an animal in both of their eyes. Hers watching her prey, his watching her trying to decode the thoughts and images that were flashing before her eyes which had darkened with a lust and desire as she watched him strip.
He stood there, completely bared before her.
She watched him, studying his body closely.
She took in the shape of his lips and wanted to devour him with her own. Her eyes took in the shape of his neck and she wanted to kiss and bite him. She took in the shape of his naked torso, his cock that was slowly beginning to betray his own body and his own desirous thoughts. She looked at his face once more, smiling as he blushed, aware that she had read his thoughts without really knowing what they were and that she had seen the involuntary movements of his stiffening cock.
He waited until she beckoned him into bed. There was always that moment. The moment he waited for her command that he may join her. He climbed on the bed slowly, crawling across the mattress on his knees, his balls and stiffening cock hanging down below him. She took in the sight before her, her depraved and lascivious thoughts running through her mind as she watched him come closer.
He was co-operative prey. Her prey. And she was watching him, waiting for that moment when she would claim his mouth and his body with her own. He blushed again as if embarrassed by his own thoughts and still she did not break his gaze. There were no prudish thoughts here, there was no room for prissiness. There were animals in their eyes.
He reached out, stroking the side of her face as she leaned into his touch. His hand reaching into her hair, gripping it tightly, pulling her closer to his mouth until she began to crush his lips against her own. They kissed deeply, tongues probing and exploring and as a responsive, appreciative groan escaped from his lips it sent a shiver straight through her body to the depths of her. The more their mouths explored, the more she longed for him, desired him, needed him, wanted him. Pulling away slightly, she wiped the wetness from her lips, she felt free in her desires for him, he felt uninhibited by her gaze that fell upon him.
Their faces only centimetres apart and she watched him still, his hand still gripping her hair as she moved her head slightly to feel the pressure of his fingers pulling on her hair, she breathed in deeply, her mouth open slightly needing to meet his own once more.
And his cock is stiff, jutting out from his body and yet not quite close enough to be touching her, and she leaned back in for more, grabbing him, biting at his neck and shoulders, watching him flinch at the short sharp bites that left small red marks in a trail across his shoulders. Her mouth moved to his nipples, biting him hard as he flinched at the sudden sharpness of pain. Her hand reaching up to touch his face, fingers tracing the line of his lips and his chin, still wet from their passionate embrace of moments before.
And she began to devour him, aggressively, his own aggression and force meeting her own as he sunk his teeth into the depths of her neck her own appreciative groan escaping from her lips made his cock stiffen further. She leaned back, exposing herself to his mouth, to his unrelenting teeth and the sharp pain of flesh trapped between them as he started to bite her neck, her shoulders and down to her breasts. Gripping them in his hands, the pain came over her in exquisite waves, from the point of contact from his mouth, down through her body to her cunt. She could feel her own wetness growing with each contact his mouth made.
His finger nails clawed at her bare skin sending shivers down her body, goosebumps forming on her skin, peppering her arms and legs, the moans that escaped from her mouth spurred him on further. His own hunger matching hers, his own aggression matching the building onslaught of hers.
Her hair still wrapped in his fist, his face still cupped in her hands, his mouth being assaulted with hers. She wanted him, longed for him, she wanted him inside her. Without loosening the hand in her hair he reached down between her legs and attacked her cunt. Her juices enabling him to easily slide in a finger, then two, then three. Fucking her with his fingers her body reacted pushing against him, wanting him to fill her deeper. She wrapped herself around his shoulders and hung on to him.
She came hard. Her body wracked with the orgasm that ripped through her body, soaking his fingers, and as he pulled his glistening hand away, his face replaced the fingers that had been buried deep within her, his tongue delving deep, bringing her once again to the edge of ecstasy with his mouth sucking and biting and delving deep into her cunt. She came hard again, more than once, more than twice, he was stealing her pleasure, taking her orgasms with his mouth.
The smell of sex filled the air, she was inviting him in deeper, drawing him closer, wanting him to ravage her with his mouth. And as he continued to steal the orgasms from her body, urged on by her reactions and the sounds that escaped from her lips, the juices surged from her into his mouth, over his face, she was lost to him in that moment. She felt him taking her in, her wetness, the juices that he had brought from her, as she held him tightly. She wanted him, and shamelessly opened herself to him, inviting him in. He accepted her invitation.
Never allow anyone to rain on your parade and thus cast a pall of gloom and defeat on the entire day. Remember that no talent, no self-denial, no brains, no character, are required to set up in the fault-finding business. Nothing external can have any power over you unless you permit it. Your time is too precious to be sacrificed in wasted days combating the menial forces of hate, jealously, and envy. Guard your fragile life carefully. Only God can shape a flower, but any foolish child can pull it to pieces. Og Mandino
Take out the comment about God shaping a flower (certainly doesn't match my beliefs) and these words are very true today.
Not only does it seem that people are trying to rain on my parade, they're trying to be a full on monsoon! It feels as if someone is pulling the flower apart, petal by petal, pulling it away and throwing it into the wind.
It's been an emotionally draining and difficult weekend.
I feel totally depleted.
The darkness of early Saturday morning only managed to drift away slightly and that feeling of emptiness has certainly made it's presence felt.
Insomnia is kicking my ass right now. My brain filled with it's cacophony of thoughts is sapping away any last bit of energy that I'm desperately trying to hold onto. I need to re-group, I need to have some serious down time, but some down time filled with closeness and warmth.
I just have a longing to be close right now and yet it feels as if there is an insurmountable distance. I am longing to have. . . no, I want to have . . .no, I NEED to have moments of sharing closeness . . . intimate moments of warmth and tenderness. Moments of holding, of gentle kissing, of just "being", lots of moments with him. . . damn I long, want and need that so much right now! This weekend cannot come quick enough!
There are, some days throughout the year that I really think we could do without. Mothers Day is one of them.
There are so many people who struggle with such a day, those who have lost their mothers or those who have never really known them, those who cannot be mothers themselves, those who have tried to become a Mum and cannot, or have tried and have lost, those who have had children and have suffered the heart-breaking loss.
It brings a whole host of emotions and pain, sadness and anger to the surface, a time when people silently struggle with what this day is and their own conflicted feelings.
For me, it is a harsh reminder of the void that exists since my Mum passed away, it is a sad reminder that it was this time of year that we received the news that her illness was terminal and there was literally nothing they could do. We didn't have a great relationship when I was growing up during my teen years, mainly following the separation of my parents, but from my late teens after the death of my much younger brother, we developed a relationship that blossomed. In adulthood she was a rock, she was a great support and more than that, she was my best friend. And even now, many years later, not a day goes past without my missing the fact I cannot pick up the phone to talk to her, to share news, to catch up. I miss her. I may have grieved, but her loss is still so deeply felt and this day doesn't stop the feelings returning, the sense of loss and the void that exists without her being here. The memories of her suffering and how much life changed after she'd gone.
This day, is a harsh reminder that I was there with her, holding her hand as she took her last breath from this world, but it is also a reminder that I was there when someone so tiny was coming into this world, . . .into my world and yet never got to take a breath. This day is tinged with a sense of sadness and loss, a stark reminder of what was once there and is no longer and a harsh reminder of what could have been (however long ago it may have been) and yet, never will be. And yet, there is something quite wonderful - I am a Mum. I am blessed by the wonderful son that I have and this is something I treasure so deeply. He makes me proud every single day as I watch him grow into the wonderful young man that he is. I am forever thankful and blessed that in being his Mum I have been able to learn what real love truly is. And for that reminder, I am thankful. I am blessed and I know I am deeply lucky and yet the other feelings that sometimes creep (and which sometimes come full force like a fucking tsunami) to the surface on a day like today, tinges the most wonderful with sadness, with a sense of loss. Such dissonant feelings that get pushed to the surface for one day. A reminder of what was and now isn't; a reminder of the potential but what will never be; but also a reminder of the wonderful for which I will always be thankful.