The gym is not busy, mid morning. The session is fine. Nothing special. Drop sets. Chest, back, arms. I’m lifting heavier than I have before. This makes me happy.
I work hard enough to get kitten arms, where everything trembles, right down to the tips of my fingers which shake when I enter stats into the app I use.
I finish and feel a build up of energy as I get water, mix up a … Continue Reading
I don’t pay attention to the sounds I make when I am on the receiving end of pleasure. If I am paying attention to the noise I make, my focus is in the wrong place.
Mostly, I am inarticulately vocal. By that I mean that I don’t talk much, but I make sounds of pleasure… moans, groans, breathy sighs, maybe whimpers. They mostly mean some version of ‘more of that’ or ‘yes, there’ or ‘please, … Continue Reading
I wrote about how I am trying to figure out why it feels strange to write about bambi, but I still want to do it because those moments gave me something lovely, even if they were only fleeting.
So here they are: random snippets of heat and beauty…
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He sweetly fell asleep early one evening, one wrist still cuffed to the bed. I was not tired yet, I watched him for a little … Continue Reading
Things we did: A list.
Things we did not do: A list.
I was punching him over and over again: his face alternatively screwed up with pain, mouth open in a silent yell, then stoic against the hurt, completely closing down, trying to get control back. His body thrashed violently against the restraints at the peak of each wave until I could no longer aim the strike and had to stop.
He was so fucking pretty when he was like this: not thinking, just reacting. Some fear, … Continue Reading
Hello bambi,
I enjoy you so much.
I like it when you tell me what is going on in your head in the moment when we are playing: that
you want to come, that you want to fuck me, that you are feeling/ thinking/ wanting things. I love
watching your face, and feeling how your body moves. I love your cock and that spot that always
wants attention. I adore your mouth, for kissing of … Continue Reading
I hover with my face just above his, I can’t trust myself to touch him in the moment because I want to crash into and through him with teeth and bone and blood and the hardness of clashing steel. And even though I am soft, really, all tender and smooth flesh that gives and bends, I am afraid that I will really hurt him.
I feel like I am snarling at him, breathing into his … Continue Reading