You - Blog Posts
From behind
It was the first time we met.
You were only a few steps ahead of me
When I caught you in your lie.
“I used to be a dancer.” you had told me.
“But that was a long time ago.”
Oh no, I thought as I watched the sway of your hips,
The perfect, provocative movement,
Not meant for show, but recognized,
Appreciated. Wanted. Oh yes, wanted
More than you knew then, and more,
Much more now that I have seen how you dance
On the edge of orgasm. You are a dancer still,
And always will be. You can’t help it,
Just as I can’t help thinking, even apart,
How many ways I want your and your dancer’s ass.
It never ends.
After It All
After it all. The night. The taking.
The fantasy and madness.
The beyond expectations and in some cases,
Imagination. After your heart’s wildness,
The heaving breath. The throat sore from cries.
The marks.
After there is no one left but you and I
And the messy memory of our hours
And orgasms. After it all, there is this.
You in my shirt. A cup of tea.
My arms open to hold you
As long as you need to let it all sink in,
Allowing lust to become love
And memory,
and the certainty of more.
No Idea
I am not sure yet, that you understand just how long I will want you, love you. How many dreams I have of you. How rough, and how tender I want to be with you. How many fantasies, yours and mine both, are left to fulfill. How many times I want to watch you dress and undress. See you naked. See you from across the room and feel my pulse rise. You can not know how many orgasms, all in a day, I plan for you. How many men. Toys. Places. Some of them public. How many nights spent entwined with you I still crave. No matter how long is left for us, I will always want more. You have no idea.
All of You
It has never been about what you would or would not show, what you would or would not do; never about just how hard or how loud you would cry out. It was never about how far the torture could go before you sputtered the safe word, or how, the next time we went further. It was not about your hunger to please, your messy desperate hunger, your submission. what you would or would not wear and where. The collars. The chains. The cuffs. It was not how or where you wanted to be filled, or marked with cum. It was not how, once you saw that fantasies could and did become real, you gave yourself to them. It was not how often, or how many. It was not the desire that matched, sometimes somehow exceeded mine. It was not the hair trigger that set your need off, the way your body, so exquisite and lush, writhes. All those are delightful and more than most women have to offer. more than most women are. but it has always been, always be, your ability to trust the love you feel, the desire rises, and surrender to the one man who knows, and wants, constantly wants, all of you.
The Expression
There it is.
The expression
I have come to know.
You on the precipice
Between the familiar
And surrendering to letting it happen,
That one thing, once imagined,
Once fantasy, now upon you,
Your last chance to use the word
And be safe, or give yourself
To more that you believed you would ever
Actually
Do.
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I remember the first time I saw that expression on your face. And the second. And… Trust and desire as we moved from fantasy to reality.
The photograph is from a reader, used with permission. @capemayartist-blog
Time Well Spent
We took the time. So much of it when we could have been doing.
But instead, we chose intimacy first. Time. Spent. Wisely. Learning
Just how much, and how far. How many and how much you believed you could.
What excites you. What scares you and yet still calls, now that you know fantasies happen.
And now, that time behind you, I know just how far to take you, and a bit beyond.
It's Always the Smile
in the end, it is always her smile. Not to disparage the rest of her, every line and curve and sway. The curls. The glint in her eye. But in the end, it is always the smile. Captivating. Always true. Sexier than a smile should be, you feel like a king, when she submits with that smile, and her subject when she devoirs you.
Creation
You could easily believe you made her up
She is that perfect.
A perfection beyond skin and curve and smile
even when you own her, maybe
particularly then. So perfect
that had you not held her
flesh and her heart in your hands,
you would not believe she was real.
You could not have,
even in your dreams, vivid as they are,
created her or the love
her body emanates in every image,
memory and hope.
The Simple Truth
The simple truth is that you are beautiful. Always have been. Always will be. Perhaps none have seen it, too busy with their egos and fears, but that does not change what you are, only how you see yourself.
So let me capture you, with cameras and words, with the soft touch of a lover and the confidence of a man who knows the truth.
The simple truth. You are beautiful.
After the First One
There is a point, after the first one, the line crossed, the fantasy lived, your spirit and body pushed past what you imagined you would ever do.
There is a moment, when you are in my arms in the afterward, that you realize what you have done, and that you have become that rarity, a woman who is willing to live what you want, take it, be taken, the first border breached and you realize
that the first wall is always the hardest, and the next one, and oh yes, there will be a next one, is inevitable, for you are not the same woman as you were. And never will be again.
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If you have ever been pushed past what you thought were your boundaries sexually, you know.
Too Much
Mostly when I think of romance it is in black and white, reminiscent of old movies, mixing the repartee and passion in equal amounts in a palette of history and promise.
But you are too much to hold to light and dark. White, shades of pink, eyes rich in color, nipples a shade of their own, lips always the color of orgasm
and even more so when you do.
Suddenly Safe
And then, you suddenly realize the fantasy is about to come real. Me standing, directing the pleasure of everyone involved in a way you never believed happens. Certainly not to you. A smile on my face, half wicked, half so full of love you ache for it, feeling suddenly safe in this strange place you find yourself.
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Fill in your fantasy. With the right person, they can happen. But for Gods sake, make sure it is the right person who will both push you and protect you, and love you even more after it is done.
Not Just Lust
You wipe the last drop of another man's cum, the fourth tonight, your lips uncertain, knowing I have watched each one take their pleasure with you, knowing I have seen your own pleasure with perfect strangers. Your eyes too, uncertain whether I will still want you, whether I feel the same as I felt a few hours ago, just as in love, just as passionate, the kind of passion we have always had, built on more than lust for your body, built on knowledge of who you are, needs, flaws, and glorious imperfections and even this, the dream finally fulfilled as I watch. You look up, waiting, and then, seeing.
No, my love. Nothing has changed as I wrap my fingers in your head and guide your puffy tender lips to my swollen shaft, eager to feel what they did not. Not just lust, love.
Subject: #SoulFood! Topic: HAVE YOU BEEN SAVED OR DECEIVED?! Large number of people sincerely #believe they have been #saved, but they are #deceived. #God tells us that many will come in #TheLastDay saying to Him, "Lord, Lord, have we not #prophesied in #ThyName, done many #wonderfulworks?" (Matt. 7:22). There will be #falseprophets, and #preachers, and #churchworkers, and many other #professingchristians, who actually believed they were saved and doing #Godswork, who will #hear God say #untothem, "I never knew you; depart from me, ye that work #iniquity" (Matt. 7:23). So, #myfriend, you can be deceived about this #matter of your #salvation. You may say, "I know I am saved because I feel like I am." #Youcan be #mistaken in #feeling. Only when feeling is in line with #GodsWord is it the right feeling. #Satan can give #you a feeling which may #satisfy your #understanding, but still it would be false. "But, you say I believe I'm saved. Well, you may be, but you can be mistaken in your belief, too. Only when #faith is in line with God's Word is it #right, not just seem to be right. Satan is the great deceiver. He is out to give you faith and experience which seem to be exactly those which God gives, but which are actually false. #Countfeit method. Satan has many preachers, who themselves are deceived, and who #sincerely believe they are preaching the #truth of God. They mean #well, but they have not followed closely the #Word of God. Thus they may, in their preaching, deceive many. You may be one of those who have conscientiously followed #whatyouheard, and #feltsomething which you took to be the #truesalvation, but you may be deceived. THE FOLLOWIN STUDY IS TO HELP YOU SEE THE TRUTH. SO STAY PLUGGED IN FOR THE NEXT FOUR INSTALLMENTS TO TRULY KNOW IF "YOU HAVE BEEN SAVED OR DECEIVED!" https://www.instagram.com/p/BoTTg6hAIJa/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=j5nmufm0kra5
You’re the kind of person that makes me want to do stupid stuff.
You make me want to scream at the top of my lungs with the sun roof open down a long tunnel.
You make me want to run down empty grey aisles of the local dollar store with you in a rickety buggy and giggle like children.
You make me want to dig my own grave deep in rich soil and happily plant myself there if only to help you grown.
You make me young and free, but I don’t give you that euphoria, the electricity, that everything in this very moment is collapsing but it’s okay because when I’m with you it’s only Patty Griffin and fields of wild flowers.
With me your days are pounding horns in a crowded tunnels.
With me you push dollar store screeching buggies for yet another stale loaf of bread.
With me you’re planted in red clay that doesn’t gives us nothing.
With me you’re 35 and the vending machine took your last dollar, with me it’s nothing.
So I guess I’ll go on...without you.
