Not a Surprise

I had a dream. One I’ve more or less fantasized consciously too many times to count, but this time it was bliss. I was asleep and therefore, free. I was submitting to MCF. He used rope and had me suspended from the ceiling in more ways than I would’ve thought I could imagine. There was never any sexual contact in the dream, and yet somehow it was the most sexually intense experience I’ve ever not had!

 

He spoke very little, but when he did it was to give me exactly what I wanted most at that moment; to reassure me when I felt nervous, to take me down deeper into subspace, to light my blood on fire! I was tied and gagged, placed exactly as he wanted when he wanted. His domination was unquestionable in spite of the fact that there was no pain or punishment of any kind. He was calm, putting off waves of quiet confidence; he was not in a hurry. He knew I would give him exactly what he wanted, anything he wanted. He did not have to ask for we both knew I offered my unquestioning submission to him without reserve, the very picture of obedience.

 

He moved comfortably as an expert craftsman, no doubt in his mind as to his complete control. He looked incredible as always, turning fantasy into reality for me with his bare hands. Moving me from one form to another he was never rushed, never concerned. He reveled in our wholehearted power exchange, trusting in my submission. The connection itself is difficult to describe, even though I know exactly how it felt. I gave him everything I am, knowing he would take me to the greatest heights of pleasure and the deepest depths of our complementary desires. I wanted him so badly, and I was able to express this simply by relaxing my body, being pliant but still, going wherever he placed me full of gratefulness for him choosing to turn his focus on me.

 

I sensed this exercise in suspension was coming to an end; I was physically tired though elated, burning with desire for this man. I knew instinctively that this was the last form in which I would be suspended and fought to remain submissive as my desire peaked. I could feel him taking a long, last look to burn into his memory the sight he’d created; trying to drink deeply enough to slake his thirst long enough to release me. I was loosing my fight to remain still and pliant, so needful and nervous about what was to come. I’m naked and so wet he can surely smell my sex even though he is a ways away from me (to better take in the sights I’m sure). He remains fully clothed and I know within minutes I will be before him, no longer bound by rope but instead only by my devotion to Him.

 

Will he touch me? Will he reward my patience? Or will my desire go unfulfilled? Does he want me only as a plaything to enjoy the view but no more? It is as if there is a timer counting down in the room; as I feel the seconds tick by, I know I am that much closer to learning the answers to my questions. Then, nothing. A long moment of confusion before I understand what I’m hearing is my alarm. My heart sinks; I got more sensation than from any fantasy, but am left feeling so empty and unfulfilled. I spent more than a week haunted by the memory of finally submitting to him and feeling lost and alone in spite of the fact that nothing had changed. And yet, so much did change. What now?

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Weekend Sex Marathon

Last week I wasn’t myself. I’m not sure whether it was due to stress, if I had a bit of a cold, or some other reason. But all week I was exhausted and my sex drive was lagging. H wasn’t upset, letting me fall asleep as early as I wanted and not even mentioning the lack of sex. By Friday night I was feeling much more like myself and my sex drive went crazy. We had sex twice before bed and H woke me up in the middle of the night for round three. Next thing I know it’s Saturday morning and H is waking me up with morning sex. I was soaking wet all day Saturday even after four rounds in under 12 hours, I was absolutely gagging for it (sadly, not literally :/). Saturday night we once again fucked twice before H passed out, but I was still vibrating with need. I let him sleep for as long as I could stand it (and no, masturbation did not in fact help at all) then woke H for yet another round. As for today? You guessed it, sex, sex followed by more sex. I should be happy, right?

 

H and I were talking about setting up play dates in the near future and what we wanted to do. Out came H telling me that he’d love it if I’d be more dominant with him. Not exactly what I wanted to hear. Plus, I’ve legitimately tried to be dominant with him in the past on a few rare occasions. He’s never been into it. I tied him up once, which he didn’t like. Another time I played with his ass and wanted to rim him, but he just pushed me away. So I told him I’ve tried to before and that he’s never seemed interested. According to H he just didn’t know what I was doing. Am I married to another sub?

 

Seems entirely possible to me. I know H doesn’t like pain, but masochism isn’t a requirement. Then again, he also didn’t seem to like bondage. Perhaps he just falls more on the vanilla side of things? I really don’t know. Can a guy who will give me small amounts of pain in bed, strangle me, tie me up occasionally, full swap same or different room and at least occasionally enjoy pegging or bottoming for another guy be classified as vanilla? Trying to figure H out is giving me a headache!

 

Truth is, there are times when I like to be more dominant. In general, I’m dominant with women. I go after them aggressively and take what I want from their bodies. Not in a painful way, but I am quite assertive. One of the guys I use to hook up with, R, was always good at bringing out my dominate side. I’m not exactly sure how he did it, but he loved me telling him what I wanted and me being aggressive with him. It’s been years since I slept with R, but no other guy has ever pulled that reaction out of me, including H. I think as a sub I get a vicarious thrill from dominating others. Sometimes I fantasize about binding and lashing someone. Seeing the rope cutting in to someone’s flesh and the red striped color darker the longer the whipping goes on…I honestly don’t think I’m a sadist, I think it just turns me on because want it so badly. I’ve never actually done anything like that, just a little hair pulling or light scratching and biting is about it.

 

So, can I be more dominant with H? Absolutely. Do I want to? Perhaps on rare occasions, but certainly not regularly. Even if I do end up fulfilling that role, I’m certain it will do nothing to alleviate the churning, painful need to submit that’s practically suffocating me every day. I’ve been thoroughly fucked somewhere in the realm of 8-10 times in the last 36 hours, as well as having masturbated repeatedly in that same time frame, and I’m still ravaged by want. At one point, H was eating me out and I had my legs pulled up and open as wide as I could. My still heavily bruised thighs were on display, and H was driving me insane with his mouth. He got me to that perfect level of sensitivity where I couldn’t stop cumming. I must’ve came for close to 10 minutes straight; everything he did made me cum that much harder. I love getting to that point. It happens sometimes during sex, but most easily when I’m getting eaten out. Even half out of my mind and oxygen deprived (I’m not very good at remembering to breath when I’m cumming), I was still wishing more than anything that H would just put his hands or his elbows on my bruised thighs and use them to hold me down, hurt me while I came for him. But alas, no such luck for me. H was very careful every single time we fucked to avoid touching my bruises, let alone putting pressure on them. FML!

 

I don’t know what to do. This need just keeps growing, and my imagination is only getting further and further out of control. As much as I want H and I to have a BDSM relationship, I just don’t think that’s a realistic goal. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this need locked away, or how I’m going to cope when I finally can’t control it any longer.