Fantasy

It's the collar around my neck, and the cuffs.
The blindfold and the leash.
You clip me down so I cannot move,
blindfold me so I cannot see,
gag me so I cannot speak.
And then you begin to touch.
Your touch is light against my skin,
caressing my back, my legs, my thighs,
moving in to stroke my mound, the flesh
warming to your touch.
Your fingers spread me open, enter and probe,
rub my clit, stroke and pat and pinch until
I open to you like a tunnel
and your hand is a train you can ride right in.
And then you're touching me, and it's hard,
and I want to scream and moan, but I'm held down
and gagged and then you start to slap me, firmly, hard,
and it's the cyclone, the magic carpet ride, the circus where I
come and come again until I am spent, until you are ready
to use me
for the next thing
you decide you want.

Hot, sexy and (almost) out of control (dancing naked in public)

I'm naked and so is almost everyone else in the dark room.
We're dancing, one by one and in small groups, filled with the spirit of earth water fire air.
The music shifts to "Thank you for letting be myself" and I am shaking it, enjoying the new fluidity in my body, the ease with which I can bend and stretch and move, the vibrant flexibility that lets me shake my ass all the way down to the floor.
For the first time in my life, I am dancing naked--without a stitch on--in front of 30+ other people, in a closed-group network I recently joined, moving quickly across the room, filled with energy. It feels amazing, I feel grounded and center in my body and I feel sexy as hell, aware of all the men--and women--taking looks at me, at the full-bodied woman who can bend to the floor and shake her ass like she must be great in bed, who is smiling with pleasure as she feels the hot summer sweat bead along her back and the dancing edge of her legs.
After the dancing, all these men come to talk to men; men I have met before and men who are new to me--men who have partners and men who do not--men who are broken up about past hurts and as guarded as one can get and men who say they are happy and open and whose calm faces suggest it's true.
It feels so good to get all this attention, this energy, this interest--it makes me feel so hot, so powerful--and I like the interest directed my way...even if I'm not planning to do much with it.

Lover--and Master

If the Collar Fits has a post that speaks to me-in part:"We are still together because everything we have now is always good. In fact, it’s solidly, consistently great. But he can’t give me more. In a lover of mine this would be unforgivable. But he is both lover and Master and to lose one is to lose the other. I stay because I am his. I would give up a ring much more easily than a collar."

With Z not available, our BDSM relationship is so quiet, and yet, I am hanging on, hoping it will come back and change everything in my life.

The L word, and not using it

There's passion between myself and D, real passion that means we make love at least once almost every time we see one another, passion that means we can't keep our hands off one another, passion that make him hard and makes me wet and open so easily for him. But I notice that our love-making, close and passionate as it is, rarely includes the L-word,aka the statement "I love you."

I think that is because I like it rough, and the intense sex and tussling we enjoy is more about moans, grunts and dirty talk than romantic declarations.The hard slapping of D's body into mine is so pleasurable, so intense, it makes me want to scream, not talk. What does say I love you to me though is the way we sometimes grip one another and hold hands as we fuck, and the openess of the cries D utters as he comes, and the way my body convulses and comes, again and again, as he touches me. And of course there's the cuddling and the talking after sex, and how we sleep spooned together, shifting in the night but usually touching, and then there's the moment one of us wakes, feels the other's body, and grows greedy and excited all over again.

Louis Begeley, in his book Shipwreck, talks about characters confusing love with the tenderness that is felt after good sex, and I've asked myself if that is what I really feel for D--or for Z--but I don't think tenderness is the only thing that draws myself and D together--or the replacement for love--and yet I think Begeley is right--sexual satisfaction does lead to tenderness and tenderness can lead to--but can also exist independently--of love.

I wish there were more ways the L-word made it into my passionate sex with D--sometimes I tell him I love him as we make love--but the heat of our encounters, the way we are together, and what we say at other times have to be the stand-ins.

BDSM and lack there of (also a small rant on geeks)

So I am starting to (slowly) realize that alot of geeky, poly, alternative people are also into BDSM. Only it seems like some of them are into it to kinda show off how cool they are, and some of them are into the fun, playful idea of BDSM. As a sub to a Dom who was always very private, cheerful party discussions of flogging always stop me cold--for me, BDSM was playful, but only between two people with a very intense relationship.
Now I am in this weird space where I don't have much BDSM in life, especially the *real* kind, the kind I have with Z which is about control as well as S&M--not only do I really miss it, but because I promised not to do BDSM with others, I have no way to replace it--and no idea when Z will be able to resume these activities. The lack of this connection leaves an ache inside me.
I didn't know I would miss it so much, fantasize about it, crave it...and I do. If Z was out of the picture completely, I realize I would either have to look for another Dom or try to teach D how to be more truly dominant.
Sigh.
This is out of my control because of the promises I have made to Z, which I will continue to keep.