If you had asked me two years ago how I felt about surprises, i would have told you that i hate them.
All except for one kind: it is a marvelous thing when you find you can still surprise yourself.
i’ve learned some things about my sexuality and how i’ve experienced sex during my lifetime in the last several months. i never really looked at that angle before or considered that i was actually very in control most of the time when it came to sex.
Here, i have to ask. Carefully.
Yesterday, when Sir Raven mentioned her raging hard on over our morning coffee, my grin was instant. i tried to smother it, to not appear too eager or interested. Damn. Damn it. Too late. i tried to turn my attention back to the hot mug of french press and the morning sounds in our building. Anything to not be thinking of her delicious cock.
She noted that i was licking my lips and glancing at her crotch as i walked by. i don’t know why i do this. Often, i can’t see it when it is clearly standing out of her jeans or pjs. It’s like my habit of looking toward where i know a clock is located when i need to know what time it is. No matter that i can’t read the clock, i will still look.
“Would you like some attention, Daddy?” i asked, sweetly. i figured she might appreciate a morning bj and this is my way of asking if i might pleasure her. When she sent me out to run errands instead, i didn’t pout. i returned and made an omelet and sausage for her breakfast. Now, against the white down blanket, i have no doubt she has a hard on while she eats her breakfast in bed.
i never know if i will be refused outright, no matter how much she enjoys the attention. i figure this is the case and go shower, taking my time, enjoying the hot water and clean smell of the soap. i slip a dress on with nothing underneath. When i return to take her plate and clean the kitchen, her beautiful cock has escaped her pants and is starting back at me.
i bring her a glass of juice at her desk and she finally turns to me, waiting, i suppose, for me to ask again. The pj pants are gone now, and i sit on her lap straddling her leg, letting her feel that i have nothing on. Grinning, i ask again if i can give her some attention.
Her answer is her hand on my head, in my hair, but she controls when i start and when i stop. It’s hard for me to obey because i can feel an orgasm building in her and want to ignore it when she starts to pull away. Instead, i whimper for a second. i feel empty.
Hours later, after we both get some work done and snuggle in bed watching a scary movie, i am surprised when she turns to her wall of canes, whips, and paddles. She lashes me with something i can’t see but i am eagerly lifting my dress to reveal my nudity. She builds slowly, which is a surprise as well, and i find myself in that silky land of desire. when she uses her bullwhip, i am ready for it and rising to meet the stinging blows. She teases me with the paddle, hard blows followed by her moving the soft side over my welted flesh. When she orders me on my back, my legs splayed open like an eager whore, i absorb each lash. i watch my thighs go from red to purple bruises and think of how beautiful it is. My head is an exploding poppy field and though the pain is intense and courses all through me, i accept the blows to my cunt and clit. i whimper, snarl, growl but don’t close my legs.
My reward is her huge cock that she has to force in. Force, in any form, makes me wet. i’m only too delighted that she chose this cock because it fills me so much that i am entirely focused on her, on taking it. When i come, i vaguely wonder if i am bleeding and half hope i am. i love the way my legs wrap around her, my things holding her tight, my hands slipping under her shirt needing to touch her skin. i love the way i can’t control myself with this cock. i can’t stop the words coming from me, can’t stop the orgasms, can’t do anything but match her speed through the delicious pain. It hurts in the most glorious way. Her cock is perfect.
When i tell her that she should be flattered that i think so, i do actually mean it. The singular occasion that i look at sir Raven and see her as fully male is when she wears this cock and fucks me. So, what i am really trying to say, is that i am a lesbian who worships her in a fully masculine form. i want the pain of it, need the pain of her entering me, because she enjoys that part. That is the dick that while we jokingly call it “the black mamba” is is simply Hers. A part of her. It is a total surprise to me that i care deeply about her knowing that i worship the wholly male part of her as much as her blended self. She can be fully male with me in those moments and i still lust her, with all of me. i mean that it should be flattering that her raging hard on is a delight to me and i acknowledge that what we are doing is having heterosexual sex with queer bodies. i am just a slave, deeply in love with her Master and his cock.
And i am a girl who has called her Daddy while being penetrated so fully, so deeply, that i can’t tell where we begin and end. i have always been guarded before, careful, to say neither Daddy nor Master to any woman while we fucked. It was never true before and so i could carefully guard myself and chose to say nothing.
i have never experienced emotions for the person i was being fucked by before in life. Not during it. i was directing what i wanted, viciously grabbing them by the hair when i was done, cooly determining what positions i wanted.
This is profoundly different. i have felt such a well of emotion for Sir Raven that it is impossible to put into words. i am her slave, her girl, and her goddess wrapped into one. It is so clear to me that she thinks i’m beautiful that there is nothing else. i am not plain when she enters me. i am beautiful because my Master sees it. She likes my face moving from pain to pleasure and back again, normally this is hidden by my hair or i am face down during most of our play.
i have asked her to wake me up for sex, something i’ve never asked before of anyone.
The enjoyment of being taken, being used, knowing i’ll feel her for hours later, has led to the best orgasms of my life.
i am so aware of her owning my body during it that my body can’t help but respond with pleasure and desire.
Being able to feel love, to feel joy, to feel beautiful because she uses me for her pleasure is one of the most amazing surprises of my life. Before, in life, what i felt was powerful and primal. Those are grand things, certainly. Nothing compares to this, it is truly like my eyes are opened for the first time. i blush even writing this because it feels virginal to suddenly have a brand new understanding of this body and how it feels to have someone else own it.
i’ve not done more than elude to the sensational sex before. i am one of those people who won’t tell their best girlfriend anything more than it was great. i might not write about this again but i felt like it might be good for me to try and express it for once.
Master, every time you have had me, i look at you at think you amaze me. i thank you for the gift of trusting me with your beautiful body and soul and for giving me the gift of being yours, body and soul. i am your vessel, your slave, your altar, and your girl. i long to have you alter my body in some permanent way. It’s no accident that i have never had any other piercings or tattoos or brands. i kept that part of myself, defiant because i wasn’t owned and i wanted something special to offer one day. It’s yours, whenever you choose. i adore you. Always.