Dedication to Meta because I want the fucking universe to know who makes me cum intensely. I am lucky to have your contribution towards fantasies, my self discovery and introspection. I like you. I am nervous all day today. Beyond excited. Vibrating. My cheeks flushed. Pussy throbs. My glorious sex tics are bouncing around with new noises; the usual sex exhale but then there is a "woo" and a "mew". I told him my excitement is akin to standing in line for a long time for the newly anticipated Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland. Hoping, the ride lasts a long time and a whole lot scared not knowing what to expect. The day is very surreal. And shortly after I have this thought, he messages me how unreal this is that we will be meeting. I grapple with the idea of masturbating to help release some of my anxiety; but I really want to explore this uncomfortable anxious feeling and turn into arousal. Staying in the anxious moment, it's like the worst feeling of stage fright; a bundle of nerves questioning my blow job abilities since it's been 12 years. Men get nervous too right? Of course they are human. I need grounding so I grab my bike and go for a ride. I was given a prayer from him perhaps to memorize, so I spent an hour riding and memorizing. Thinking I am going to have to recite something the first time we are meeting made me even more excitable. My day feels like a dream. In and out of reality it seems. He messages me simply, "5 hrs...". My heart begins to pound loudly. A countdown. My body trembles, I had a scary thought, did I just plate myself up to a serial killer or serial rapist? Those thoughts are quickly squashed because through our conversations his energy doesn't read that way. Instead I used that fearful energy and put it towards my prey kink. Time to get ready. I feel like I am walking in a dream; my legs not wanting to really move, I feel as though there's some kind of finality with this preparation. A ritual march. Beginning with a cleansing; a hot shower turning my flesh to bright pink then finishing with cold water to cool my hot spots making my nipples bud up tightly. If the cold shower is the worst of my day then it still is a good day. I don't use heavy perfumed anything, just a bar of charcoal soap and a pH balanced wash for my starved cunt. Shaving my legs, no need to clean up my vintage bush as there would be nothing with my pussy yet. An hour later with makeup and hair done, I decide it is definitely a good hair and makeup day. The night prior I painted my nails and toes a matching deep dark red blue color. The outfit I chose looks put together but not too done up. Matching black lacy panties and lacy black bra. Looks like I overcame my recoil towards matching sets from suppressed sodomy. The night is already full of redemption. Two days of preparation is about complete. Fear builds up again but a bit relieved when he messages me as I'm thinking he's cancelling. Emotions shoot back up when I can see he's in his element, a definite role and gives me further instructions. I reread his message of instructions, shaking, I had to make sure tonight's play would not eliminate me; for some reason my fear pulled me in all types of directions. Nerves. Then the thoughts, the ants of what if's came marching. Deep breath. Time to leave. I go to my friend's house and give her information about him in the event something happens. I said if I'm murdered please find out if I at least had sex of some kind so we can think I came and went. My vile thoughts sometimes help lighten my mood. We hang outside listening to music, I give readings of chakra stones and dance a bit. He messages me he's leaving now. Now. It's time. Breathe. I blast my Sacral playlist as the sky grows darker. I have night blindness and barely know the area; these feed into my anxiousness. My analytical brain is out of her comfort zone too. The place we're meeting is a tiny roadside building open to the public. A chapel. The size of a small shed. Lost in thoughts while listening to loud music, reciting the prayer and trying to remain present with the winding road which gently rocks me further into a trance. I passed it. Damn! Luckily, a gas station is up ahead. I run in to pee and primp. I look nervous as hell, pupils dilated and face flushed. Reminding myself it will be okay, just be your authentic glorious flawed self and I turn to leave my nervous reflection. In my car I double check the location it's just a minute up the road, my anxious energy now becomes enthusiastic. A minute later I almost miss the turn again, I cut over to the last second and pull up next to a cream colored large SUV. He said he was driving a car. Did he have a different vehicle? I message him "Are you here?" "No five minutes, away." Okay a little relieved I will have a few minutes to look around. Unsure if I should get out of the van while the SUV is here, I wait and notice they are backing out. The SUV pulls out as I start my car to move it giving more vehicle room for him to park next to me. I get out of the car and walk over to the chapel. A delightful warm night. Semi clear with just some wispy clouds over the crescent moon. Crickets and frogs provide most of the ambient sounds with a soft whirring of a few cars driving by. This is suddenly helpful. Grounding me. I can catch my breath finally. I see through the glass door the chapel is cute with four small pews and a hanging cross on the back wall behind the podium. A seemingly reverent peaceful place. Until I open the chapel door, a waft of stale musty air floods my nose. My presence here full of deviant purpose is still kept a secret, until I cross the threshold. Now the cross on the back wall looms larger and more ominous. The omnipresence now feels like the familiar heavy draping shroud I would feel every time I would enter my old church. Out of habit, I surreptitiously fix my clothing to not expose too much skin. The mini bibles placed on the pews seem to be whispering their words at me while flashes of the noxious turquoise green carpets of my old church run through my mind. Goosebumps prickle my arms while a tingly sensation behind my ears runs down my neck continuing down my back; my body shivers. I exhale deeply a moan of sorts. My heart pounding in my ears, and suddenly a fear of fainting washes over me as the small room begins to close in. Blasphemous finger wagging thoughts were trying to stream in as I now see the biblical messages other visitors had left behind. I lose my breath, I can't turn and leave fast enough. Storming out, to the right, I see a large coniferous tree calling to me. I approach the tree and panicked every headlight I see are his. I desperately need a minute alone with this magnificent tree for grounding. I reach out with my left hand and caress the bark of the tree. Dragging my fingers on the roughness, in some places noticing the softness of some frayed pieces of the bark. Just a few seconds was enough for me to begin to feel calmer, just in time as I get a message from him about reciting my prayer in the chapel. Swallowing hard, I thank the tree for being there and head back inside to complete my instructions. As I enter, I begin softly reciting the prayer to not disturb the religious imprint left from others. Stumbling on words at the disbelief in just a few minutes, he will arrive. He will arrive. I am there with a purpose of worship, I tremble. The deviance grows louder as a part of me is trying to remain quietly respectful. Respect. I now fill with contempt. I am entering my new role. I reverently begin to recite his prayer aloud; in proud defiance of fantasy images of my Sunday school teacher finger pointing saying I'm going to find my head in a guillotine for being witchy. At my church family movie night was about witch beheadings. However, after a few words into the prayer, narrowing my eyes to stay focused, I lick my lips remembering the glorious reason why I am here and then proudly unfix my shirt, exposing more of my witchy cleavage. A different kind of worship. This isn't faith based religion. I get to meet a god. Half way through the prayer butterflies begin buzzing around frantically excited. I'm wet too. My pussy is throbbing with cooperative enthusiasm. She knows she isn't getting anything. And I was okay with this, very okay with this. I want all of me to just focus on his cock. My excited wet throbbing cunt just made me more heated noticing how reactive my body is to just thoughts of him; behaving this way from thoughts of having him in my mouth. Slowly, I am now enunciating every dirty word in my scripted prayer, my scripture, wanting to make sure every molecule in this space can hear and understand me. A cold wave falls over me as I hear a car pull in. My stomach drops and my lower back begins to heat up; I can feel his presence, it's him. He's here. My prayer is answered. It's time for redemption. I'm shaking again. I need fresh air. I come out of the tiny chapel and see he hasn't gotten out of his car. My phone rings. I'm relieved to hear his voice. My legs now weaken because he says he has an idea. I blush because I know this idea will be delicious. I'm to return inside the chapel and place my blindfold on and wait for him. He also will be blindfolded. I respond with just a simple, "yes" and head back in. My shaking hand reaches for the door knob, the door feels heavier this time as I pull open. My weakened legs start to come alive as I cross the threshold. A sly smile crosses my lips because I feel this small walk down this aisle will be exhilarating and liberating. Night...planning for cock worshiping...being touched by a man...pleasing a man...worshiping cock...his cock. Yes, definitely this walk down the aisle is already a blessing to me. I drift slowly to the rudimentary podium wanting to push a record button in my mind to make sure I leave no detail out of my memory in order to call upon anytime I feel a desire. Dirty desire, I can feel this is going to be good. I stop with my back still facing the door, deep breath in. I lift my shaking arms and my trembling fingers pull the velcro apart from my blind fold. Covering my eyes, I wrap it around my head as a hot and cold wave ripples through my body, at the realization of just how vulnerable I am in this moment. Adrenaline races through my veins and I tremble hearing his car door slam shut. Footsteps now approaching the chapel. My racing heart pounding within my chest violently; the chapel door opens. No words from him. Silence after I hear rustling for a second. What am I doing? My breathing is now shallow and rapid, I can hear myself. My body is frozen in a flight or fight response not knowing what to do or why I'm here. I can hear movement again behind me. I'm now filled with a bit of terror just at my own physical vulnerability; blindfolded, one exit in this small room that he could easily block and a bit far from any kind of help. My thought goes back to this is the perfect setup to be murdered or raped. My heart is racing as I can no longer feel my legs. My chest rising and falling rapidly trying to supply my body with more oxygen feeding my brain to help me make a quick decision if necessary. It's taking too long. He's too quiet, what's going on? Should I peek? Ask him what's going on? I can't do anything I'm petrified. Suddenly, his gentle soothing voice tells me where he is in relation to where I'm standing. Only problem is my legs have locked; instead of fight or flight I'm now frozen. Even feeling slightly comforted by his voice, I still can't move. He speaks up again telling me to come to him. Legs unable to cooperate, I shuffle backwards using the 2 rows of pews to help guide me back. I bring my left arm up and out, with my hand reaching and searching out for him. His hand; I let out a sigh of relief. I finally get to feel him. Placing my hand in his, he guides me to him. Again I'm met with comfort. Then he said his cock is waiting for me. Now I'm delighted. This is the moment I've been wanting, waiting, fantasizing about; to be on my knees in front of him. For him. His cock. Both of us being blindfolded heightens our other senses but symbolically it's removing us. Leaving just my eager little hot mouth and his delectable cock. That's all there is needed in this space and time. This space. I relish the thought of where I am as I slowly lower to my knees; excited to do filthy things in a religious space. My reverence now is with a different god, one of my choosing. I mew in my throat when I reach to touch him. His cock. I no longer had to wonder if I even still enjoyed sucking dick. Not sure if it's because it had been so long, being blindfolded, or him, but I became fully present just with this cock, feeling I'm now in my religious space. I am given the opportunity to make love, express my fondness and appreciation for such a beautiful delectable appendage. Knowing of his ability to not cum so quickly made it more exciting as I now get to take my time with this cock. His smell even; I could lick him for hours. His taste; I want more time and opportunities for worship. Soon the deviance of where we were lost it's magical appeal. I was being filled, in my eager wet mouth, with him. My tongue that longed for cock was happily eagerly and gingerly lapping his shaft. Slowly exploring every millimeter not wanting to miss any spot of his cock and trying desperately to have this experience imprinted for future recall in the event next service is weeks away. The chemistry we have sexting, and phone play happily translates in person. I had a little fear that in person the chemistry I felt wouldn't cross over. None to worry. And my 12 years without sucking dick is over. My room faintly smells of him. And when I have flashes of what transpired, I lose my breath feeling like it was just a fabulous dream. A good fucking dream finally. And I can't wait to see what is dreamt up next. Don't stop here....there is more....this time he had me write about my experience on his cock, Solace...
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The night before a meeting. Maybe. Maybe the next night. Now doesn't look that way until maybe next week. Back when I thought it would be the day before an actual meeting, my tics were prevalent. My pent up passionate self has been without touch for 8 years. Almost 8.5 years really. Yes counting. At first I didn't count the years because I chose to settle. Felt I didn't deserve to find my match. Others had said I was too much, too intense, too wet, too passionate (albeit the word they chose was dramatic) so I settled with a person who was in their own void. Further still it was impressed upon me to stay on anti anxiety and anti depression medication for postpartum issues; my 'baby' was 7 years old at the time when I decided to wake the fuck up and work on getting off of pharmaceuticals.
Forever grateful to the cub that stirred me and ghosted me. It was then I realized I had been without for far too long. Far too long for anyone, but me. I've always been sexually expressive. As a child I masturbated frequently and I couldn't wait to become an adult to be able to play like 'this' with another adult. I had one really good play partner however that was over 25 years ago. Went downhill after each relationship thereafter the men became worse. Worse in treatment of me, and even worse sexually. In my hurried quest to fulfill social and family programming I was expected to settle down, I was already 'late' at 30. I settled and I traded sexually expressive for sexually repressive. It's been 12 years since I had good sex, fun sex, exploring kinky sex. No hugs even, I'd likely break down and cry from just a tender loving hug from a man. And I miss kissing so much. It has to be my favorite activity. So much can be said in a kiss. So much can be felt in a kiss. I could likely do an entire post about kissing. I easily happily digress, fantasies of kissing...mouths exploring...breaths...moaning in his mouth. I'm so very excited with the prospect of meeting him soon. Beyond excited my body is very reactive, all of my senses heightened. My emotions have also been in excited states. My higher power over the weekend had me sit out for a bit and reflect. The person I am to meet is the only one that suggested it would benefit me more if I were to go slow. I'm already overwhelmed with the prospect and often felt I could likely faint from excitement overload. And it likely wouldn't take very much at all to get me so excited since it's been so long. Also on the same token, I will need to come to terms with the emotions of my self-inflicted prison. At some point in my life I felt I wasn't worthy to say no to others and felt incapable of taking care of myself even though when I met my spouse I was busting my ass working full time with a part time job and going to school. Right now, all of this is just talk and fantasy. It's still me just masturbating however it is nicer when someone is on the other end listening, participating and or just enjoying my orgasms with me. Until I actually meet him or anyone it's still in my head. I'm so nervous like a virgin with first hand knowledge of how everything is going to feel so amazing. My orgasms lately are more intense. So even if he and I don't meet he's already gifted me so much. ~May 15, 2020 Dedication to Meta because I want the fucking universe to know who makes me cum intensely. I am lucky to have your contribution towards fantasies, my self discovery and introspection. I like you. This time nothing looped, 2 hours of Mozart Requiem Today's orgasm was an accumulation of people I play with currently and then ending with my current Dom. Dom in the spirit of D/s but more like a meta man and a meta play partner. Envisioning him resting between my full thighs the way a Satyr would happily lap at a beautiful tempting 19th century Nymph. Having his tongue play and dart in between my wet folds. Making me wetter. Forgetting I'm even there. I even forget I'm there. I detach from my body, giving full permission for my body to experience every little sensation. Not moving as to not disturb, miss or convolute the body sensations from what he's giving me to experience. Just being. Exploring sensations while he's exploring, worshiping, meditating on me. His tongue, his fingers inside me twisting and curling in me experiencing the pressure of his hands spreading me; my body quickly reacts with these thoughts. My mind drifts from my hand as my fingers press firmly against my vulva. My inner and outer labia become more sensitive to touch. I can feel myself getting close to cumming. Maybe next time I will stop at this point; but with thoughts of him at me, having his time with my pussy I don't want to stop from having an orgasm right now. Arching my back, my thighs splayed outward, opening myself up more to this delicious image of him. I pull my breaths down deeply and slowly to my pussy, not wanting to hold anything in. I want my breath to ride along with the wave of my orgasm. I pull my fingers back and stop as I get closer to cumming, my orgasm is here I'm at the threshold and this right here is my favorite moment meeting. I hold a second longer. Then within seconds of placing my fingers back in the same sensitive location (I have a more sensitive area) the wave crosses the threshold and I ride. Lying there in complete stillness I can feel electrical pulses firing off everywhere below my navel. Inside I'm scanning where exactly these snap, crackle and pops are taking place, I can't pinpoint exact locations. Maybe vaginal, but certainly I can feel surges in my vulva and inner thighs. As I am lying there I am filled with pleasantness, unpleasantness, arousal and calm all at the same time. I felt a drift and a pull up, I lost myself while scanning and suddenly felt I woke up staring closely at the ceiling. I started to have an obe (out of body experience). I've only experienced a handful but all while I was sleeping and usually was spurred under distress. My sudden awareness of what transpired or was about to transpire began to trigger a panic attack. I caught my breath. Concluded this was my most intense orgasm and to continue to enjoy as my body and mind were behaving naturally. An innate anthropological drive in me and of course I am my own subject; therefore was curious to what was happening and why I separated my mind from my body. I suspect as time is coming close for our first physical play, the more excited I become. Also 8.5 years since I've touched someone else sexually. A highly excited state. Positive and negative. Also my insecurities are whispering, old wounds and fears also chattering in the distance. Am I here in this world, this writing space one way and in the physical world another way? Am I none of what is written here? I am scared this isn't me. All these words; none of me? Epiphany. Is this what he meant when he spoke early on I live in a fantasy world? My lower lip quivers as my eyes well up. Maybe it's the almost 2 hours of Mozart's Requiem, a perfect soundtrack coming to the realization (jesus the album is called, "Mozart: Requiem Realisations" requiem alone has meaning) that maybe just maybe my 8 years obvious self inflicted celibacy and why I stayed with the marriage without intimacy is I'm the fraud? Shy>timid>lack of confidence>frightened. My marriage looked good on paper initially, however we didn't match sexually. Adventuresome>curious>spirited>sensual. Maybe it's beyond the 8 years, it's actually the almost 18 years I need to come to terms with and maybe that scares me. I don't know who I am. I've been one way for so long this is all I recognize. The realization- me in the physical world has been living a lie, hiding myself, imprisoning myself is this the fraud. I am fearful when this mirror is placed in front of me. Once it opens I will have to deal with the 'whys'. I suspect I may get a visit from She-She bear soon. Maybe I am after all full of paradoxes. Shy/adventuresome >timid/curious >confident >spirited >frightened/sensual. The last one has an intense sexual pull on me, "frightened sensual" sounds like a perfect prey partner to me. These words and the emotions I felt writing this piece spurred fervent writing for about the next 12 hours. I can't wait to share! I feel I am fluid to a fault. And being an empath I often mistake other's emotions as mine. Typically what happens when I connect with another I can take on their emotions, blindly bending, not realizing what I am experiencing isn't mine. I just can't figure out why this happens with only certain connections. Some, I can see a mile away and shield myself. Others I might get an inkling and yet keep my protection down. Maybe I need to just keep my shield up at all times for everyone.
However, being an empath has its perks. I surprise myself sometimes with how much I can pick up from another and how deeply I can connect with the person through their emotions. I'm not sure I want to turn that off when I play. For example, it's why I love to worship cock; besides me enjoying it I can feel through the receiver how it feels when I'm between his legs. I can feel his energy vibration undulate higher and more quickly just as I bring my body closer and feel the slight increase when my mouth comes closer to his cock. I'm not sure if it's because of spatial synesthesia but I can 'see' excited states of energy pulsating. With his energy pulsating it vibrates through me. This feels good energetically. If I turn this part of me off, I don't think I'd enjoy sucking dick as much. And certainly I think most prefer a blow job from someone that enjoys sucking dick. It wouldn't be worshiping if all of me isn't present. Certainly, I can just shut it down after play. Perhaps why I experience drops often and sometimes stronger than other times; I could be taking on the other person's drop as well. I instinctively want to hide after intense energy exchanges, sexual or not, I need space and time to decompress. My stubborn nature does get in my way. I admit I often do not take the time needed to decompress. I get too excited over things mistakenly believe I will be okay to continue. Luckily, I am aware when my higher power tells me it's time to sit something out for a bit. However I didn't just sit this time. I dusted my bike off that I hadn't used for a year and hit up a trail I had been scouting for a while. 3 miles of meditating. Although I couldn't help but have ruminating thoughts about conversations, I would bless it on it's way. I would catch myself again and just breathe, "stop trying to find a thing" and just enjoy this moment. I stopped and sat. Looked and watched the world around me, the world I'm part of, every part of. Yes it's good to just shut it down for a minute, breathe and enjoy the scenery. To go offline. Disconnect from others' emotions including my own from time to time to just be. Completely shielding and disconnecting from others, I don't think I will do but I can consciously take time away to disconnect. I can envision this period of disconnect as a small river pulling away from the fast moving river. The small river becomes a lazy river making its way around beautiful scenes with shallow banks filled with wildlife replenishing their own nourishment not wanting to be swept up in fast moving currents. The breakaway river winding around a bend then picking up speed and ready to reconnect with the larger fast moving river. ~until the flip, breakaway replenish reconnect Thank you for being here. I have spacial synesthesia, most people will picture in their mind's eye the 12 month calendar as linear. However in my head it's a floating loop and I'm at the center. Time is happening around, 'me'. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. As of now, however, in my mind I have the infinity symbol appearing. I'm in the crux of two circles. Energy flowing from one circle coming through into me while transitioning to the other side. That energy coming back around from the other side and back through me again. Energy smoothly transforming. Like a gentle ocean wave rocking to and fro. The pleasant waves moving around me while I stand in water up to mid calf. Water so gentle and crystal clear I can see the shells resting at the bottom. While staring down into the jostling water watching it drain back out to sea, it looks like I am going with the water, leaving me disoriented and dizzy. While trying to catch my bearings, without noise or any indication a much larger wave crashes into me. This one biting me with grit from sand hitting me. The turbulent waves slam into the front of my knees painfully trying to push and bend my legs backwards. And as quickly it recedes it returns again crashing into me, through me, with force trying to knock me down. The instant I feel I have my balance and am safe it returns trying to knock me down. Feet sinking in the sand. Cold water. Stinging my wet flesh with tiny shards of sand. Why does it keep happening? I'm in the water It was exciting Thrilling even Emotions flowing I was in the place I was meant to be The energy even Undulating Matching intensity Flowing out Returning This time yet again Not so just gone again fragile Until the flip~
not doing a good job of keeping anyone around long enough to flip you dear. |
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May 2023
AuthorReleasing some steam. You should want to know me, not just a woman with pent up passion. Oh yea and you should start this from the beginning. |