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| alexandraa |
The Joy of Sex - I know, a cheesy somewhat prissy and cold 1970s publication on the one hand, (actually that kind of reminds me of some people's attitudes when it comes to all things rude and wetly messy), but on the other hand, what joy there is to be had in sex when you have that match, that compatibility between two, three or more of you. I've always had a healthy interest, an appetite, a longing for sexual pleasure. I think it's one of the things that really gives me no shame when it comes to desires and nakedness.
The dominant in my life wants to see me naked? To look and poke and prod and inspect, to touch what he wants, take what he wants, to have me display myself for his pleasure. To sit in his chair and just stare. That's horny isn't it. What is there to be shy or reluctant about? What is there to hide from? What hasn't he seen a million times anyway. What hasn't he taken and used, covered with his fluids and marked with his weapons? My body is his, why shouldn't he look?
To feel his certainty and awareness of his control is to be wrapped in layers anyway. To feel joy in the pleasure he takes looking at the body you choose to hide from most people. To feel that delight in knowing you have chosen to submit to this person. Anything he wants is his, to simply ask for. No reluctance, no with-holding, no games or frigid nonsense. That's the deal. That's what you've agreed, those are the roles you have chosen to take, his to command, yours to obey.
Control can be such an intense erotic pleasure. It can provide liberation, remove those ever so civilised barriers you erect, cut through behaviours you feel you should enact, allow you to reveal your true inner whore. Allow you to verbalise those fantasies you dream of. Allow you to let loose the creature who revels in sex, who writhes and wriggles, whose cunt drips and aches. Skin that flushes at the slightest word. To bare your soul with your flesh, speak your cruellest fantasies, to beg and plead and be humbled.
I can remember my ex husband asking me what I wanted sexually. It used to irritate me so much. I used to misunderstand my feelings of frustration, my desire to shout at him what I wanted and yet tell him nothing at all. When the dominant in my life asks me what do I want, and I'm happy to babble away till the sun sets and rises again… expressing every bit of filth and depravity I can conjure up. To describe in depth exactly how I need to feel his cock inside me.
It seems contradictory yet when I look back I can see my ex husband's questions were from a submissive perspective. What did I want him to do to please me? Well be dominant of course and not ask stupid snivelling submissive questions. I just didn't know how to express that. I didn't know how to say I want you to take control and just fuck me for fucks sake, not enter a long discourse about what you should and shouldn't do. What might or might not please me, I want to be ravished, manhandled, pushed, fucked till I scream.
Sex, power exchange and sado masochism. What better threesome is there?
Ferocious, intense and passionate like nothing else can be. And the joy…. oh the joy of such sex.
Edited Thu 24 May 07, 10:21 PM by alexandraa
| 24 May 07, 10:34 PM MarcusStrapp UK(CB), 7 yrs |
Oh dear, your in lurrrrve. Now you're realy fucked!  Conventional wisdom is often more about convention than wisdom. |
| 25 May 07, 9:17 AM lucky_1 7 yrs |
Happy sigh. Strange how some things are easy to do though and some things so difficult. I was talking to Capi about stripping and it is something that neither of us would be really comfortable doing. Of course we would if J desired it, but he is canny enough to know when he is tiptoeing around landmines! Yet I will happily crawl, naked and collared on the end of a leash. Odd isn't it?
But, Oh the Joy of D/s sex. The more that pleasure turns into pain, the more inclined I am to stand and take it. Texas 2005 |
