I do enjoy writing this blog, but it has certainly taken a back seat in our daily "to do list". I think one reason why I don't keep up with it is because J3 has lost interest. I don't believe that readers want to hear all the vanilla things that are routine in our daily lives. And for or many different reasons, such as the terrorist and one or both of us being under the weather ,we haven't had any "us" time.
But I believe we need to "make" time. We need it. I crave it and I miss it.
We have been discussing how I am not really a "slave" to him. And he is not always Dominate to me.
I suppose calling ourselves a M/s couple isn't the best way to describe our relationship. At times I am very dominate in the vanilla areas of our life.
I do enjoy him taking me and using me for his pleasure. But I also enjoy it when he lets me drive. Taking him to the edge and peering over with him.
But I enjoy more when I am being stripped down to a quivering, craving slut,his slut where nothing in the world matters other then us. I also love the Daddy dynamic that we often share...I adore being called his little girl and love it when he says "Do it for Daddy"
It propels my mind in to places I’ve only dreamed of. I needed and crave to be brought to those edges and boundaries I’ve never known, till my eyes well with tears.His lust fills me with a dark hunger that I've kept hidden and locked deep inside for so long, until he captured my heart and traveled to those places with me.
Searching, wandering, listening, trying hard to find my way. As we follow the path he has laid out before us, I pause, unsure and dreamlike we ramble onward. Screaming wanting him to stop. But more so wanting him to do as he wishes, because I know it pleases him and it also pleases me.
The pain intertwines with the pleasure and I want more...I need more. But I still beg him to stop. He backs off slightly, and then continues. Doesn't he know? I am begging, but he continues. I want him to push me. I hope he quits, and I hope he continues.
The path emerges from the shadows as we drift forward, the light calling to us into the darkness, my thoughts join his, and together we dream, we feel, we explore, we push, we fly, we soar, and we know we can not let go.
We wont.
I am bound tighter than I have ever have dreamed and feared, gagged so that my words are reduced to mere sounds in a language that only the two of us know, as you hold the leash to my collar, that lets the powers pass between our hearts and souls, and as you look into my eyes and watch me seeking yours. I know,I know we are so fortunate.
Slowly we peel back the layers and we reveal our desires and our hopes and dreams.
To share this with him is a gift beyond words.
Hardware whore?
Well, you see there’s this place inside of me, that only existed inside of me, until he touched it. Then it flowered, opening into a fragrant bloom that seeks his regard instead of the sun. And it is rather funny, in an odd sort of way, that I knew it was there but so unsure until I met him.
Until he slid inside me and opened me and showed me what I am. I am a woman, his partner.
I wait in the darkness until he brings me into the light and the darkness and he wrings my utter surrender from me even as I gasp and struggle, thinking I have given all that there is to give He says " My partner, My love, My slut, My hardware whore" And I am astonished to find there is always more. It is as though his hand reaches inside of me, fist clenching around my core, grasping it tightly. And he tears it from me as I scream and cry and struggle. He holds it up in front of me and opens his hand and then, oh yes then I fly free and unfettered on the currents of heat that rise from him to carry me as we soar.
I wonder if he will ever know where my heart beats strongest, against his chest, thudding loudly as he takes me once again. If he feels the exquisite agony in my surrendering, yielding, shattering completely until there is nothing left but the shaking and the tears and the certainty that it is this that I live for, this gift of self into the hands of one stronger than I, wiser than I. Who supports and guides me as I boomerang between the bliss and despair of a life’s diversity. And I wonder, too-why it is.
I even wonder about him knowing of these things, for they are the things he gave, those places where my soul has found the peace of his strength. It truly is the trust that we share the openness of “us”. And that is why I love when he calls me his “hardware whore” because the things we both have dreamt of, are coming true and it continues and always will continue to amaze me.
I belong to him, with all that he knows I am, all those things that I do not yet understand, but he sees so clearly.
And I didn't need the magnifying glass to see him... I see him perfectly without it.
But I believe we need to "make" time. We need it. I crave it and I miss it.
We have been discussing how I am not really a "slave" to him. And he is not always Dominate to me.
I suppose calling ourselves a M/s couple isn't the best way to describe our relationship. At times I am very dominate in the vanilla areas of our life.
I do enjoy him taking me and using me for his pleasure. But I also enjoy it when he lets me drive. Taking him to the edge and peering over with him.
But I enjoy more when I am being stripped down to a quivering, craving slut,his slut where nothing in the world matters other then us. I also love the Daddy dynamic that we often share...I adore being called his little girl and love it when he says "Do it for Daddy"
It propels my mind in to places I’ve only dreamed of. I needed and crave to be brought to those edges and boundaries I’ve never known, till my eyes well with tears.His lust fills me with a dark hunger that I've kept hidden and locked deep inside for so long, until he captured my heart and traveled to those places with me.
Searching, wandering, listening, trying hard to find my way. As we follow the path he has laid out before us, I pause, unsure and dreamlike we ramble onward. Screaming wanting him to stop. But more so wanting him to do as he wishes, because I know it pleases him and it also pleases me.
The pain intertwines with the pleasure and I want more...I need more. But I still beg him to stop. He backs off slightly, and then continues. Doesn't he know? I am begging, but he continues. I want him to push me. I hope he quits, and I hope he continues.
The path emerges from the shadows as we drift forward, the light calling to us into the darkness, my thoughts join his, and together we dream, we feel, we explore, we push, we fly, we soar, and we know we can not let go.
We wont.
I am bound tighter than I have ever have dreamed and feared, gagged so that my words are reduced to mere sounds in a language that only the two of us know, as you hold the leash to my collar, that lets the powers pass between our hearts and souls, and as you look into my eyes and watch me seeking yours. I know,I know we are so fortunate.
Slowly we peel back the layers and we reveal our desires and our hopes and dreams.
To share this with him is a gift beyond words.
Hardware whore?
Well, you see there’s this place inside of me, that only existed inside of me, until he touched it. Then it flowered, opening into a fragrant bloom that seeks his regard instead of the sun. And it is rather funny, in an odd sort of way, that I knew it was there but so unsure until I met him.
Until he slid inside me and opened me and showed me what I am. I am a woman, his partner.
I wait in the darkness until he brings me into the light and the darkness and he wrings my utter surrender from me even as I gasp and struggle, thinking I have given all that there is to give He says " My partner, My love, My slut, My hardware whore" And I am astonished to find there is always more. It is as though his hand reaches inside of me, fist clenching around my core, grasping it tightly. And he tears it from me as I scream and cry and struggle. He holds it up in front of me and opens his hand and then, oh yes then I fly free and unfettered on the currents of heat that rise from him to carry me as we soar.
I wonder if he will ever know where my heart beats strongest, against his chest, thudding loudly as he takes me once again. If he feels the exquisite agony in my surrendering, yielding, shattering completely until there is nothing left but the shaking and the tears and the certainty that it is this that I live for, this gift of self into the hands of one stronger than I, wiser than I. Who supports and guides me as I boomerang between the bliss and despair of a life’s diversity. And I wonder, too-why it is.
I even wonder about him knowing of these things, for they are the things he gave, those places where my soul has found the peace of his strength. It truly is the trust that we share the openness of “us”. And that is why I love when he calls me his “hardware whore” because the things we both have dreamt of, are coming true and it continues and always will continue to amaze me.
I belong to him, with all that he knows I am, all those things that I do not yet understand, but he sees so clearly.
And I didn't need the magnifying glass to see him... I see him perfectly without it.
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