“I’m serious,” he said sternly. His words of warning only served to encourage her. Like a vixen, she crawled effortlessly into his lap and straddled him. “Fuck,” he whispered sharply.
She matter-of-factly stated,"I wish to take a lover. I wish to have a lover. I am monogamous when i am being a lover, I was abstinent during the demise of my marriage, I have had one lover in that time. I have been craving a man's smell, his feel under his skin, his cock shape, his smile of approval as i tenderly sate his desire. I am not too old, nor am i too soft, nor am i too bold. i hunger. i am not jaded, i am starving for a tender touch coupled with masculine assurance."
A relieve4d brath went out o her at her end of the computer. Teh whole hunting donw a piece of ass, primarily a mkan's ralm, often maksed by societal pleasantries had not penetrated the core issue until right now. online sex steis, online dating site, Craigs list, bess yore heart, jon reep and rest in peace all teh littel pygmies. This coupled with the rally nice avarerage guy at the hardwars store who wouod love to sink his remarkable lps into her pussy and worship her on one hand. and on the other hand the cruel sensual slips of a jaded man of the owrld on his end of the computer. What were they looking for;/ All of them?
is not the hunt still about monogamy? Did not M. have it corrctly? So could he be as pissy as possible for the resto of her life in order ofr her to experience the rightness of man-woman realtionships. on my knees, but iondeispenable. love. does it really exist? Forgive me, if you are real, icould only imageinge what that would be like.
aam ii chasing a mirage? a season reserved for the young and unripe? the green adn firm? Iss this t he questio of aging? or is it the hot, wet, no-holds-basrrd of lust undiguised. tawdry needs and bestial grooves?
this is what is means to be a vixen
Alan luve,
we started talking on the 24th.. you have a writing style i can completely relate to, more than speech or words it is emotional connotation with ease and expression. reflects how you engage the enemy, so to speak.
i listened to the way you said this, " I may want to fuck you (and more) -- maybe -- but I know that I truly do so enjoy . . . this. "
i tend to do that, go deep to just clear a path. Blunt force trauma communication. until i "feel", (note: feel) transformed from that bitch to the goddess, or perhaps, more truly, the goddess to the bitch, slut.
That is why the spaces of BDSM is so alluring in so many respects. For some reason women can't just get the nut off, we have to disengage a whole image 'maternaia'. objectify ourselves to achieve red hot unapologetic lust state, begging for more. breathing techniques out the window, the inner whore available to your every whim and pleasure command.
Only two requirements in my humble opinion:
That my partner indeed can engineer and steer the flow of woman lava through over out down. random fucking or even really good stranger sex is missing the other essential ingredient. A sense of being adored, loved for being wholly woman, protected even with each thrust, each slap. Being held and stroked to orgasm(it DOES take longer, lol) with my lover's cum on my thighs.
looking at your face, fully entwined with all five senses leading to the place where minds meld, bodies are together and souls are safe. Captivation, exactly.
ok, that said,
i want to briefly admire your breast images. i am servant girl. a waist cinchera and a corset camisole. a choker of some sort signifying ownership or possession or availability. thigh hi stockings of course. velvet thong. easy up skirt cotton. textures are important to convey warm and sweet.
Breasts jiggle and move naturally, easy to touch and manipulate. squeezed and rolled nipples until i open my mouth for a tongue first then cock, breast spilling over the cups. i like my breasts. i adored breastfeeding. i like breast bondage..tmi? sorry.
lizzy
Lizzy, ... All of which speak to a rare sensuality, the purest essence of which is being in touch with what truly captivates a lover; understanding, accepting, appreciating, deep down, inherently, that what motivates one's lover at those same substratas of privacy and consciousness is all natural, powerful, true.
lingerie -- or other provocateurs -- are analogous to breasts. There are . . . perfect breasts. There are large ones. Round, flat, big, firm and droopy breasts. it is not the breasts themselves so much as the way a woman relates to them, uses them. Yes.
So my choice for dress up for you would probably be . . . whatever you best relate to at the moment, and want to use at the moment, because it's the act of digging into my substrata with those . . . weapons, those choices on your part, that is the true experience.
To: Alan
the whole c ontext of being mentally fucked first and last is terrifyingly good
i completely did not want to admit the need to be handled.
in whatever context. That i do better with a masculine muse in all areas.
that i am fragile.
not about choices. it is about giving and responding which is my love style.
i woke up this morning to rain on the window and the chimes being crazy.. like at 4am.
lizzy
Alan