Pages

02 December 2013

Revisiting . . .wanting.

This weekend I've had reason to revisit some of my old "writings" that are posted here on my blog.  It is a strange thing, revisiting things that I have written sometimes over 2 years ago.

And yet, reading them, transports me back to the moment I wrote them, the feelings that I had, the emotions that flooded me.  But more so, they have taken me back to that moment in time . . .transporting me back to that place.

That moment.

That reality. 

A mixture of emotions come from revisiting.  Not in a negative way, because as in the words of Amber Decker "never regret something that once made you smile". And I don't. I don't do regrets.

But, even reminiscing with a time that may have been difficult. Where all was not good or a time that may have brought difficult times and moments to life, I do not regret.

And yet, they aren't such a distant memory.

Not really.

There are some things that the passing of time does not take away.  There are some things that simply do not fade with the passing of time.

Instead they feel as if they were just yesterday.  They have been brought alive from my own words, my own reflections that I've written about those moments.  And wow. Just wow.

It is a strange thing to feel so much further on.  I do not read my writings. I simply write them, let them flow from the mind and the depths from which they come and let them go.  I don't have a need normally to revisit them. I don't particularly have a desire to revisit.   

That is until now. Until I had reason to. Until I wanted to.


Flooded with feelings, with emotions, flooded with the intensity of the arousal, the connection, the bond, the pain.  A depth of a memory which comes alive, which is felt deep within.  I feel it just as intensely as I did back then.  Just as I did at the moment in time.  Just as I did in that moment shared.

But revisiting those moments, makes me realise just how much there are things that I miss.  They make me realise of just how much I'd like to find that again, to explore with someone new, to share those feelings, those emotions, those moments.  Things that maybe new for that person, things that would certainly be new for "us". 

And.

I miss that.

I miss that "us". 

Not missing anyone in particular as I don't nor would I want to revisit an "us" from the past.  And I do not want to do so at all.

But I miss there being an "us". I miss there being a you and me. I miss those emotions and feelings that come within the power exchange. I miss the fulfillment that comes from such depths of submission and my domination.  I miss the "top space".  I miss creating the "sub space".  I miss the shared moments of intimacy, of emotion, of love.  I miss the "beast" being released from it's inner cage.  I miss the closeness and depths that come from the beauty of one's submission.  I miss the energy and inspiration that comes from my own dominant needs. 

And I miss it.

And I want it.

But more so I need it.  And even though I've always known that.

I have come to realise just how much I do. 














I think of you


I think of you and wonder how you moan during sex.

I think of you and wonder how much you will cry out as you take my pain.

I think of you and wonder how you sound when you whimper and beg. 

I think of you and wonder how your eyes will look with a tear gently falling from the corner as you look at me and plead.

I think of you and how your face will light up with a smile.

I think of you and wonder how you taste.

I think of you and wonder.

I think of you and want.

I think of you and need.

I think of you.









29 November 2013

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!










27 November 2013

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.















26 November 2013

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  










24 September 2013

Dear Readers - please help vote for this wonderful charity . . .

I am shamelessly plugging a wonderful charity who are currently in 2nd place to win £5000.



NOWZAD are a charity based in Afghanistan and they rescue dogs and cats from the war torn areas, helping those who have been injured or attacked.  What they also do, is help rescue animals that have befriended servicemen from the UK and US and to help get them back home so they can live their lives with those who helped them.

As such, I am asking for you the readers, to take just a minute out of your time to click on this link

HERE

to go and vote for Melissa who has just completed a charity ride 

The person with the most votes via Mountain Warehouse will win £5000 and Melissa is donating her £5000 to NOWZAD and the new shelter that they have built to continue to rescue and help some of these animals, some of who are so desperately ill and injured.

Please, PLEASE if you can, take a moment to vote on the link, its literally  a case of clicking a button, putting in your email address (no other personal info) and then clicking on the verification email when they send it.  It is not a scam, just a genuine request to anyone who reads, wherever you are in the world.

Please help :)

Thank you so so much x




04 September 2013

Fleeting moments

Not everything is supposed to become something beautiful and long-lasting. Sometimes people come into your life to show you what is right and what is wrong, to show you who you can be, to teach you to love yourself, to make you feel better for a little while, or to just be someone to walk with at night and spill your life to. Not everyone is going to stay forever, and we still have to keep on going and thank them for what they’ve given us.
Emery Allen 

Sometimes, we just have to take something for what it is.  It may be fleeting and brief.  It may be over before it has begun.  It may be something that means absolutely nothing, but it played a part, however briefly in making things happen.  Not everything has to be something big and wonderful, it can be small, subtle, almost happen unnoticed and yet it can have a lasting effect.

Everything no matter how big or small, will always give something to us.  We learn from the mistakes that we make.  I don't do regrets because every little detail of our life is what has made us who we are, instead we learn from a situation. It maybe that we learn never to repeat it, it may be that we learn heartache, pain or sadness, but we still learn.    

And sometimes those fleeting moments, good, bad or indifferent, we need to take them for what it was at the time, regardless of what it was, because in all honesty, there are some things, some people, we don't want to stay forever.

So for those moments, those people, past and recent, I thank them for what they have given me, and know that as I move on, that they have contributed in their own small way to a potential of something beautiful and long-lasting.

Something that perhaps should have been many years ago.










The dance



In that moment the world ceased to exist. It was just you and IThe way my hands touched your face, the way your lips felt under mine, inhaling your breath as it mingled and became my own.  Lips gently moulding to the curves of my neck, in a brief moment, but not everlasting, we danced as one.

Bodies pressed close together in an erotically intimate sway as the music played, our first dance, yet also our last. We guided each other, watching each other, touching each other, devouring as if we somehow knew that this is all it would be, but would we have danced it differently had we known that was really what it was?

It ended too quickly. The music. The dance.  






29 August 2013

Answers

All is quiet.
The words flow through my fingers,
from the corners of my mind.
The ink staining the paper as I write 
and find a release for the inner thoughts.
For the questions with answers that I cannot find.
And yet, I think of you. Standing there. 
The look in your eyes, the longing of your body.
The tenderness of your lips and the gentle moans that escape.
And I find myself wishing that the answers would show themselves.
Wishing that you were the answer.








Weaknesses

“Your weaknesses aren’t meant to prove how you’re not perfect; they are meant to prove how you can be stronger. Your mistakes aren’t meant to prove how you’re wrong; they are meant to prove how you can be right. Life may be long or short, simple or rough, boring or exciting, but whatever the case, you live only once, and during this one life, YOU were meant to become the best you can ever be. So keep this in mind: acknowledge to learn, and learn to fight, and fight to change, and change to live life to the fullest.” – anonymous

We all have weaknesses, we are all human and will all make mistakes.

I get that of course I do.  

But, I wish, so wish that people didn't give up the "fight" so easily . . .so early . . .without any effort or without even really trying.

Because it is in making those changes, but putting in the effort which can reap the rewards, which can bring the things to you that you do really want, desire, long for and need.  It is a shame that some people will potentially miss out on so much good for a little fear of taking a step forward, for a lack of putting in just a little effort, by giving up the race at the first hurdle and giving up the fight.

I often wonder why, some people give up so easily - maybe they cannot see the strength that they have, maybe they think that it is just easier or that others will not be by their side while they do fight . . .who knows? 

I wish I did.

Whatever the reason, it's sad.  Yet we cannot make someone fight, we cannot make someone live, we can only fight our own fight, live our own lives so we can live it to become the best we can and hope that we will share it with someone who wants that too!







28 August 2013

A big dose of crankiness

I'm tired.

I don't know, perhaps it is post holiday blues.

But I feel tired, drained and cranky.  I feel impatient, and every little thing right now is grating on my nerves right down to the bare bone.

Perhaps it is getting back to the reality of the daily grind that makes me feel somewhat, or closer to the mark, super less tolerant.  I find myself reading emails, inane chatter and drivel and just want to shout "shut the fuck up!" and then I find that there is nothing there when I hoped or expected it to be, and it makes me want to just say " well fuck you!!!!"

And when I am checking my emails and messages I have to stop myself replying there and then because my response would come from a place that I am not normally in, and that my intolerance and boredom would be sent to someone who didn't quite deserve it.  I don't want to send replies which are not me but ones which would only right now reflect that crankiness.

But then, there are ones who do deserve it and have gotten a response sent from both barrels - and one who I want to send something to, but well, know that it is better that I do not and part of me wants to and another part knows that, well, it's better left alone.

I received contact from someone who I hadn't heard from in several months and then a shitty further response because I hadn't responded.  I mean, it is ok for you to drop out of the picture for months and then because I haven't responded in less than 10 days, you get all shitty?

I mean, WTF?! Really? WTF is that all about? A big FUCK YOU!

I have been on holiday - do you not even think for one minute that there may be some genuine reason I haven't responded?

I don't need this crap.  I don't sign up for it, I don't want it, need it. 

And I'm tired.

And I am fed up.

And I feel that my energy has been sapped away, drained from every part of my body and there is nothing there to fill it back up - I haven't even got the energy to want to refill it back up.  There are some things, some people which are just quite exhausting to deal with at the best of times and feeling like this  - well, I can't be bothered, I haven't got the energy or the motivation to even attempt to deal with them right now.

So I won't. I'm not going to.

I need something to refuel, to top up the tank, some interesting and light interactions and conversations, similar to before I went away, ones which made me want to lean forward and learn more, ones that bring those parts of you alive, to the forefront, that make you feel human, make you feel alive . . .make me feel "ME"!

But something right now is draining  emotionally, physically . . .and I'm tired and not cut out for "this" right now  - whatever "this" is.  And things feel odd and strange and not naturally where or who I am.  I am feeling intolerant of people in the "real world" as much as I am in the online one.

And it's crap.  And it sucks.

And I'm tired.


Ugh!













 


Something happened . . .

Before I went on holiday, something happened.

Something that took a lot of time to organise, to make happen.  Something that took time, effort, energy and money to make happen. 

Hindsight can be a wonderful thing - because well . . .it just is! There were moments that of course I enjoyed, that I was glad that it happened, but, hindsight, well that just makes you say "why the fuck did I bother?".


But, while I was away, something happened.

Apart from making me realise that the "something" before holiday had in fact been a waste of all of that time, energy and effort, it also made me realise that sometimes, you place a trust in something, in some one. That you may have hopes or belief in something, and how quickly you learn that those hopes or beliefs and indeed that the trust was very misplaced.

As I said, why the fuck did I bother?!  Do I feel sad? upset? Angry? No, none of those feelings are particularly even worth having. Disappointed perhaps, let down, perhaps.

But, such is life.

We live. 

We learn.

We learn each time that placing that trust, of making that effort, just isn't worth it.  And we learn that each time, it becomes a little harder to do so.  We become a little more hardened, we become a little more cynical, we become less trusting.

Do I regret bothering in the first place? Regrets aren't my thing. But I damn well learn.  If we don't "bother" then well . . .we don't find out, we don't see the true colours, we don't see the reality instead of the hopes . . .

While I was away, something happened.

Something that enabled me to see the reality and more!

I was as I love to do, taking time out to think while the sun was setting out over the ocean, (and yes, that is my pic of that sunset!) which made it incredibly hard to get on the plane to come home.

I certainly realised how little there is to come home to, that each time it gets less and less. And that before I went I thought how badly timed the holiday was, except now I can see it was perhaps most perfectly timed.

Because in it's timing, it has enabled me to see very early on, what I wouldn't have wanted to find out a long way down the line.

But it also enabled me to see that in the future, when I get on that plane and go away, that there will be a time, when I will not come back.  It won't be for a while yet, but something happened to make me realise, it is what I want. 

Not what I thought, not what I expected, and indeed before going not what I had hoped for . . . but something happened . . . 














 


31 July 2013

Wait for it!

At Last My Lovely ~ Jack Vettriano
"Someday, someone is going to look at you with a light in their eyes you’ve never seen, they’ll look at you like you’re everything they’ve been looking for their entire lives. Wait for it."


I just came across this comment while browsing tumblr.

And yes. Oh goodness YES!

You don't even need to close your eyes to imagine that moment. To have a moment so perfect, that moment when you see that light in their eyes, that moment. That look. That feeling. That surge of feeling and emotion.

And you don't need to close your eyes to imagine those feelings that you have in response, those feelings deep down in the pit of your stomach as you feel the feelings swell.  

Just reading it, just thinking of that moment, it brings that sense to you, of those feelings . . .so yes wait for it.  

Indeed.













30 July 2013

Always expect the unexpected . . .

“We all think we’re going to be great and we feel a little bit robbed when our expectations aren’t met. But sometimes our expectations sell us short. Sometimes the expected simply pales in comparison to the unexpected. You got to wonder why we cling to our expectations, because the expected is just what keeps us steady. Standing. Still. The expected's just the beginning, the unexpected is what changes our lives.” Shonda Rhimes


And that is something I always hold on to.

Expecting the unexpected and not placing expectations upon things because it can change the way they are, the way they can be.  And I hold onto it because it is most often the things that we do not expect which do change our lives.  And, those unexpected things can often be so much better, simply because they are free from expectation, because they do not have the pressure of expectations. Instead they can simply "be" as they are.  As they are meant to be. Happen as and how they are meant to happen. 

It does not mean that something which happens unexpectedly doesn't take us by surprise, for goodness it sure can do, we can still be knocked sideways by the curve ball thrown in our direction, or have the wind taken out of our sails.

But there can be something quite special, quite wonderful when something so unexpected happens that it comes with a whole host of potential and possibilities.  Quite unexpectedly, it comes from nowhere, but has a potential to go beyond what we may even have perhaps even dared to hope for.

Life, we can never really plan.

We can never know what, or who, maybe just around the corner.  People often say that they meet someone when they are least expecting it - is it because that meeting comes with no pre-existing expectations? That they are, with their hearts and minds completely open to whatever may happen . . .that it can then happen as it is meant to?

Life, inevitably throws us curve balls, times when circumstances are a reminder to expect the unexpected, yet these curve balls, these unexpected moments can also be quite beautiful, as they unfold and show themselves. They can be moments where it can quite literally take your breath away, leaving you amazed or taken aback at what feelings, emotions or hopes that it may bring.

In the words of Paulo Coelho “You have to take risks. We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen.”  So yes, maybe it is about being open, opening yourself to allow those unexpected moments to happen, and maybe it is about taking a risk for it to truly do so.


The expected is just the beginning. It is indeed, the unexpected that changes our lives.















 

I want your mouth


I want your mouth. Your kisses, each moment of the day. I want to feel the press of your body against me, your lips against mine as they meet.  A tentative brush as lips touch gently, my hand reaching around the back of your head, pulling you nearer still, allowing me to kiss you deeply, taking your lips, your tongue, your mouth.  Ebullient pressure as your lips gently part for me, opening you to me, so I can reach in and pull out your soul.  A desirous moment when when our tongues erotically meet and begin their amatory dance.  Lips and tongues moving with slow and gentle precision, each kiss expressing a depth of devotion, of love, of passion and desire. Lips that ache to kiss you. I want your mouth.







 

23 July 2013

Desire



I want to sit astride you, cupping your face as I kiss your lips, as I devour your mouth. Feeling your hips grind against me, pressing into my most intimate of places.  I can feel your desire, your need and the hunger that explodes inside of you, that explodes inside of me.

I lean into you, staring into your eyes, kissing your lips, biting you, tasting you.  Teasing you. And we move together you and I into an end and a shared release.








Creating something perfect.

"The hardest part of creating something from nothing is realising it doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you." unknown

 

 

 


And that is all that I ask.That someone is just simply who they are.

No fronts, no masks, not hiding behind bravado or fantasy, just simply who they are.  And accepted as such. For all that they are.

None of us are perfect, nothing can ever be perfect, but it can be simple. You can simply be you. I can simply be me. And in together, we can simply be who we are, enabling the other to be who they are.

Yes we may create something from nothing . . .but at least what we create, is what we need. What we want,  of what works for us. It doesn't need labels, it doesn't have to fit into anyone's ideas of what is "right".  It can just be.

And that, is perfect!