•February 15, 2014 • Leave a Comment
The place was kind of skeevy and the setup wasn’t the best, but the people were friendly and eager, and I trusted him to be able to make something magical happen.
For the last year or so, I’d been trying out different kinky activities, attempting to figure out not only what my likes and dislikes are but also my limits within those activities. Heady stuff for someone who never knew limits existed until becoming involved in the kink community.
During a kink event several months ago, I’d witnessed a couple of wax scenes and was more than intrigued. Hot wax play is edgy, in that there is a significant element of risk, both because of the materials (fire and hot liquid) and because it’s critical that a skilled and attentive person conducts it. But wax play did not seem to cause a lot of pain, and I liked that; I’d discovered that I only liked pain play when it was integral to sex or sexual activity; it was not something I sought out for its own sake.
What fascinated me most about the wax scenes I’d witnessed was the interplay between the giver and the receiver, the creator and the creation, the way that the whole scene was more about art and performance than about pain, or even eroticism, despite the nudity and the body contact. So, after watching these demonstrations, I approached the presenter and offered to be a model for him if he happened to be doing a demonstration in my area. Just recently, he took me up on my offer and I became his model for that night.
Continue reading ‘Transcendence’
•January 7, 2013 • 1 Comment
You think you can use my body, discipline it, abuse it, punish it, seduce it, bring it to ecstasy. Just because you want to.
You think you can love my breasts, caress them, fondle them, bite them, press my nipples so hard between your fingers that I am brought to my knees. Just because you want to.
You think you can rub my ass gently, raise welts that will last for weeks, admire the marks of your possession. Just because you want to.
You think you can tease my lips with a kiss, hammer my throat with your cock, fuck my mouth until it is full of your come. Just because you want to.
You think to keep me aroused, in heat, wanting the pleasure, wanting the words of approval, wanting the pain because it’s what pleases you.
You want me compliant, submissive, begging, screaming.
That’s what you want?
You who are so, so good with words.
That’s what you want me to want?
•December 23, 2012 • Leave a Comment
“I see your morning face,
I see your morning face.
I see what no one’s supposed to,
I see you naked and true – I do…”
Small Sins, Morning Face
This is your morning face, so different without the mask of animation worn by your waking self. More angular, I think, cheek and jaw more sharply defined. Yet, the sensual man you are is revealed in the warm, full lips, replete with your unconscious vitality and unconstrained by thought or desire.
You are self-contained, even in sleep; quiet, but not at all restful. You look remote. I realize that it is as the song says, that I am seeing what no one is supposed to, that this is you, naked and true. And that, as intimately as I know you, you are a mystery to me.
But if nothing else, you have taught me that mysteries do not need to be solved to be enjoyed.