Our Tune

We wrote our own music, performed our own song, creating a melody that worked in perfect harmony.  We were together you and I. Lost in our own world at the melodic moments that we composed.  The tune plays in my head when I think of those moments.  The rhythm of your heart, the sound of your breath creating the beat to which we moved.

Bodies swaying rhythmically as your pleading words sang from your lips, a voice so smooth as you sang to me.  And the sound of falling tears as beautiful as any song that could ever be written.  The aria of being filled your mind with a sweet tranquility, as we stole the air from your lungs.

Graceful fingers playing you beautifully like an untuned piano, hollow sounds  artistically changing to a melancholic chorus.  Something so balletic in the way that I played you, touched you, loved you. An a cappella of unspoken words never to be spoken, and a tune no longer to be heard.

*Beautiful*

*sigh*

One of those times that words are not needed.  For the picture says it all.  

The fear, the unknown, the mindfuck. The trust.


  *Fuckshivers* 

*THIS* gets my beast growling!

I like . . .

I like people with depth, I like people with emotion, I like people with a strong mind, an interesting mind, a twisted mind, and also people that can make me smile

Abbey Lee Kershaw



I like people who not only have that depth, but who will share that depth, share that emotion, FEEL that emotion.  I like people who have a strong mind and want to share that too.

I like people who have an interesting mind - but more so their own mind.  It doesn't matter if it's twisted or warped, I LIKE that too!

I like people having their own thoughts, feelings, emotions, not someone who thinks because I am dominant, or indeed that because they are submissive that they no longer have a mind, that they aren't allowed their own thoughts, feelings, emotions, opinions, needs or desires. 

I like people who know their mind and feel able to share it.  I like people who take the time to get into my mind, just as much as I take the time to get into theirs.

I like crawling into peoples thoughts and sitting there. Being there. So that if they think, they smile too.


Just like I'm smiling now. 

  

Touching you.

Stroking and teasing the hard flesh in my hand, long slow strokes as I kneel between your thighs.  Fingers moving along your thick length, watching you intently as your eyes close and your lips begin to part before a deep moan escapes from within.

Fingers squeezing harder, wrapping themselves around you, tantalising, teasing, torturing and drawing drops from you. I love how it glistens, how it calls out to me. How it screams at me to taste you.

I ignore its call just as I ignore the pleadings from your body as I loosen my grip to drag my nails across the tender skin, feeling you flinch beneath my touch, your moaning at the sharp pain that follows.  You reach out to grab my hand, trying to force my fingers back around your hardness. 

A small laugh escapes my lips in response to the frustrated sigh that escaped from yours.  And I continue stroking, touching, slow and hard, picking up pace, increasing pressure, watching you closely as your expression changes with the heightening arousal that you feel.  Hearing your breathing change as I know that your arousal is close to its height.  As you are looming close to the edge.

I watch your body tighten, the muscles stiffen in your thighs which grip either side of my body more tightly with every stroke I make on your hardness.  And I continue to tease you, to tempt you close to that edge, knowing exactly when you will take that fall over the edge, that you will fall when I am ready for you to fall.  There is a damp sheen of sweat on your brow.  Body arching, hips protruding forwards as they make their own silent pleading and begging.  

And my relentless touch, a continual change in pressure and speed, taking you closer and close to the edge. Your breathing and open eyes pleading for this moment. I watch you closely as I lean forward and touch my lips to your hardness, our eyes locked together as my tongue laps across the head.  The gentlest of touches, the warmth from my tongue enough to send you cascading over the edge to the depths.  My hand covered in you as I bring it up to your mouth, forcing my fingers between your lips as you taste, as you smile, as you fall.

Mine.

She could see the hesitation in his eyes. She could see the internal battle of submission raging inside of him.  

And this made her love him even more.

 She touched his face, bringing his eyes up to meet her own.  Did he know how beautiful his vulnerability made him? Did he not realise how quite beautiful he was when he stopped battling and simply allowed himself to be.  She bought him closer, guiding him to where she wanted him to be as he steadied himself on her knees.

Her hand reached into his hair,  a gentle strength touching him into his depths, into his heart.  She leans close to him, whispering in his ear.

"Mine."

It is all it took.  One simple word.

And in that simple word his world melted into hers.  He melted into being hers. His heart, his mind, his body, his soul.

He did not need any further encouragement.  He did not need forcing or pushing.  He bent lower, placing his mouth against the toe of her boot.  She heard him breathe deeply, the scent of leather mingled with the scent of dirt as a moan escaped his lips.  Her eyes darkened as she watched him, her pulse began to flutter as he melted into his place at her feet.  His battle of hesitation slowly slipping away, he was in his place, he was hers.

His tongue, darted from between his lips as he dragged it gently along the toe of her boot, moving back and forth, gentle laps against the leather.  His mind doing somersaults that matched the churning in his stomach. The deep arousal being felt by his body.  His hestiation seemingly gone, as his body drifted into his own space along with his mind.

She smiled down at him.  Knowing that the battle won was all the more sweeter. And for all of this, she simply loved him more.

He looked up at her.  A gently whisper escaping his lips.

"Yours."

And I will . . .

And I will eat you slowly with kisses.
Anne Sexton