At that very moment, your hand finds the softest warmth on the inside of my thighs. As told, I’m not wearing panties —rules for whenever we meet. I like pleasing you. Holding my breath, I anxiously wait to see if you’ll check my obedience. You do. And I exhale into your touch.
When you discard me, be sure to close the lid on the bin. Walk away. Don’t look back to reach in... I’ve already moved on. This side of the road, I’ve been discarded here before... I know my way home by heart. They call it muscle memory. And my heart always remembers. She never forgets.
Lean in, kiss me. Can you taste the excitement on my lips? Cause I’ve been waiting all week to taste you. The moment you get close, I feel it. A current of anticipation flows through me. Electricity.
A few weeks ago, I took the BDSM test and learned that I am 84% submissive. This didn’t surprise me. I’ve always really enjoyed encounters where the men in my life take the lead, but also respect that I have a good brain and solid opinions. That said, it always takes a few challenges to said “men in my life” in order to earn my trust and respect.
Tonight, in my bedroom, it’s very quiet. I lay in my bed alone listening to the still of the night. The lights are off, but the moon shines in through the shutters then onto my bed and the ceiling above.
Still blindfolded and naked, Felicity remained bound by her wrists to a stake pushed deep into the ground at the beach campsite. Her body laid out before the heavens and nature, the campfire on one side and the sound of the ocean on the other.
Do you remember, Sir? That night, you became my Dom and I was terrified to disappoint you.
I'm not sure exactly what I'm writing about today, but I knew I wanted the title of my post to be "foolish mistake." That is what I was recently told I was making by not clearing room in my life to date this guy.