Dom/sub or what? :)

 I’m in flux, but I know that I’m a switch. I enjoy the idea of being submissive. I’m a pain slut, which I feel overrides the submissive bit because I bite/hit/scratch, etc back.

 I know that for some people BDSM can be non-sexual, but for the most part it is very sexual for me. I do, however, enjoy power. I love having power over  people. It’s a rush. It’s liberating and it makes me feel like I can do anything.

When I do submit, they have to have ticked or pressed the right buttons,  I don’t just hand over power to anyone and I feel that power exchange should be done with extreme caution. I don’t like using the word submissive to describe me because people think that means I’ll let someone do whatever they want to.

On the contrary, I have very selective standards about who I would play with. I do not have the patience of the saint. Violation of trust and agreement are big no-noes. I honestly think that any “submissive” bit about me would still include me topping from the bottom, well at least in most cases. I’ve only met one man that I would gladly submit to.

I’m also bi. I often refer to my orientation as being“sexual” because I’m interested in whatever makes me happy sexually and I feel that I’m very adventurous and open to trying new things.

Marks....

  It is late, and finally I am in that brief peaceful time before I go to bed. I  head to the bathroom,  I remove my shirt and stare at myself in the mirror, and the reminders of you left on my body.

  My shoulders are covered with fiery red marks. Not your standard high school hickeys but actual hard bite marks purple in a few places but mostly that screaming, crying red.  Bites (the kind that lets you know it really hurt )when they happen are almost too much.  I am on the edge of too much and not enough and you take more from me with the bite than the creamy whiteness of my skin.

  It is surprising to me that I am so fascinated by these marks. So entranced by them. I am cataloging them and memorizing them, knowing that I carried away the more concrete reminder of our time together. You get only the memory; I get the marks, which I can look at any time. That is my special possession, but you know I am not possessive; you have only to ask to see them.

 I am tired of the word "mark" so I pause here and look for an alternative; my Thesaurus says thus " a device pointing distinctly to origin of ownership" and think that perhaps the word "mark" is a good one after all. I think I will use the word over and over again after all, but you know why don't you? 
 
We  love the bite; it is the most direct expression of who we are, within that I feel the ecstasy of need and fulfillment  and I know finally I am almost home.

endless possibilities.

I find myself at a loss of what to write to you. How can I put into words, the feelings you conjure, and the tantalizing visuals you produce in my head? How can I write a fantasy, knowing it will never be exactly what I want, because I orchestrate it, rather than we? When my lips brush yours, would you lightly stroke the nape of my neck with your fingers? Or would you suck my lower lip, asking without words to gain entrance so that your tongue could find my own? Perhaps you'd demand, rather than ask, pulling me tightly against you until my body is crushed against yours, your mouth devouring my own with no apology.

Each action can in turn set off its own chain of possible reactions, which would in turn set off different responses from me... the possibilities are quite frankly endless my darling. Endless. Let's return to that simple, innocent kiss.

My lips brush yours, lightly, teasingly. Your fingers curl to the nape of my neck, stroking the fine hairs until I feel small shocks of electricity. Gasping, my lips part and you seize the moment, your tongue stroking my lip, coaxing my mouth to open more. Your hands slip down my back, softly tracing the curve of my sides, the tiny indentation of my spine. I exhale slowly, my breath warm on you as my tongue dances tentatively with yours, a game of cat and mouse -- meeting, retreating, but always returning. My hands cup your jaw, thumbs lightly caressing your cheeks as we both close our eyes, lost in a moment that has become an eternity of tenderness.

My lips brush yours, lightly, teasingly. Your teeth catch my lower lip, sucking it playfully. Rather than pull away, I press my lips more firmly against yours, coaxing your teeth apart with my tongue. My hands glide restlessly along your chest, unfastening the buttons in their wake until my fingers soothingly slide against your unrestricted skin. As my tongue swirls against yours my fingers bite lightly into your hips, pulling the evidence of your arousal against my abdomen, where each shift in my movement brushes against you intimately. Our mouths part and my lips move of their own volition along your neck, seeking the hollow of your throat. I hear the soft groan of approval just as I feel the shiver of your voice directly against my lips. My tongue strokes the spot lazily before moving to the side of your neck. My teeth scrape your skin as I suck lightly, tasting you and then bathing the spot in soft tender kisses.

   My lips brush yours, lightly, teasingly. Your growl in response causes my heart to leap, and before I can think, your mouth is hot against mine, demanding entrance with such a force I have no option but to concede. Your hands snake around me, grasping my backside and pulling me roughly against you. There is no thought but your taste, your scent, the feeling of your thickening manhood pressing through your pants as if it is mocking the flimsy material of my skirt. Your hands ride higher, sliding underneath my blouse and along my back. My hands grip your shoulders helplessly, and I feel needful, wanton. Your hands stop momentarily at my sides, your thumbs tracing the underside of my breasts and a faint grunt of approval as you find I am only clothed by the shirt. I feel your muscles clench beneath my hands and somewhere mixed in with the sound of my blood thundering in my ears come the rip of cloth, the pop of buttons.

Drowning against you, in you, I wrench my head free with a gasp for air, trying to clear my overloaded senses. Before the breath fills my lungs, it escapes in a moan as you lower your head to my exposed breasts, your mouth fastened to my nipple. Your tongue flicks harshly against the sensitive nub, a tortuous pleasure conceived to once again banish any logical thought from my mind, replacing it with a pure, almost primal, feeling. A desolate sigh leaves my dry lips as you relinquish your possession of my breast. Within moments your shirt is off and my hands aimlessly roam your back, stroking every muscle, every shift and plane in your flesh. You pick me up and deposit me without fanfare on the counter, lowering your head once more to my other breast before I can utter a word. Your lips and tongue circle the rigid peak of my nipple, driving me to distraction as I shift restlessly, trying to coax you into sucking my nipple. Cool stone chills my flushed skin. I tilt my head down, watching you, and realize you've pulled my skirt up to my waist without ceremony. Your eyes catch mine and hold them, a silent challenge reflected there. You continue to watch me as your mouth finally hovers over the painfully hard nipple, lightly brushing your lips against it. My eyes flutter shut and the sensations instantly stop, and as my eyes open once more I watch you, watching me.

  Your tongue flicks once and a strangled moan escapes my throat, but my eyes remain riveted to yours. Your teeth scrape lightly and I shudder, watching you intently with what I know is a pleading stare. You finally concede and I am swept away again as molten heat spreads through me with each suck and scrape of your mouth. My nails rake down your back, . I squirm uncontrollably, desperately, until you grab my hips and pull me forward.............


  ... I really must apologise... I had a point... but I forgot it. Right now my only desire is to have you close to me, to explore these endless possibilities.

 

For you.

Bites will turn into beautiful bruises worn proudly..Dark promises that thrill and tantalize whispered in the half light of a shared room, promises that swirl around the head like smoke, filling active imaginings with longing, lust, want, desire for the promises & falling deeper & deeper in love & lust for the owner whose voice utters them.

Afterglow....

Written after a visit....

After glow, that's what I am still seeing as I look into the mirror tonight, just hours before I was in your grasp.
My eyes heavy my body weak, and still wanting, still feeling your touch. I close my eyes and feel you here, touching me right now .

I imagine your voice and it tells me where to touch, just how hard and just how much. I feel your hands exploring me and my body starts to tingle I can hear your voice guiding me as my hands slide across my aching breasts imagining there your hands and not my own. How I wish you were here to see the Goosebumps on my skin. For you to see the wetness you have created with just mere thoughts of you.

 When I think back on today, how lost my body became to you, how you took my mind, my soul, and my senses. How taken you made me feel, with skill and strength and the power of lust. With a knowing of what you wanted and how to get it. To feel the power of your body with even your most delicate touches, how you made me respond with such wild uncontrolled abandon. All sounds gone except that of your voice, that of your breathing, all my senses tuned into your hands, your face, and your voice.

The exquisite pleasure you bestowed against my skin with your delicious mouth. Feeling nothing but crashing waves of pleasure the kind that rips the breath from your chest And makes you feel so alive that you could die...

  Now hours later just the thought of you and I am now so wet, dripping wet, flowing with the need for you, my breasts and my lips are swollen from the thought of your kisses, the kisses I still feel burning on my lips from hours before, still prickling at my neck, still grazing against my flesh.I can still feel where you had yours placed against me today. I can feel my pulse racing thru my fingertips, I can feel my skin flush my eyes wondering aimlessly uncontrolled, that familiar dizziness from early coming back again.

  I can still feel your hands running smoothly down my back and cupping my ass tightly dragging my aching body against yours. I can feel my nipples grazing across your chest feeling them tighten and throb against your warm flesh. I remember staring up into those lips and wanting you to lay them on mine, to tease me with them to devour me with them and in more then any thought I could have imagined your lips burned into me more powerfully then I could express.  Make me beg, tease me to my limits. You rendered me helpless, you took all my control, I could feel you breathe your lust into me as I breathed mine into you.

It was like our bodies, and our needs and all our desires dance in a rhythm. I feel you have taken my body and control it now, I feel you always touching me, I still can smell your scent on me, I can still taste you on my lips. You have become like a craved fruit from a forbidden garden to me. Your caresses and your strokes have brought out my carnal urges and left me saturated with desire. .