Pussy Privileges

I have my reservations about writing something here, even admitting it at all. It is a bit embarrassing and I also refrain from ever openly saying something that reflects negatively upon another, especially someone I care for and respect very much. As I grow older, though, I realize more and more – there are moments we really need to vent about – that you can disagree with someone you love very much, and that doesn’t mean you love them any less. My reason though, for bringing up a specific incident is to make a larger point about a lot of things that have been on my mind lately and I’d like to get off of my beautiful heaving chest.

Here goes nothing:
I was with a significant other and we were going through some (really) rough times. At one point in an attempt to alleviate some of our tension, and because I wanted to and wasn’t going to let my pride get in the way, I began to touch his thigh in bed after a few days of barely speaking or being at one another when we were. He told me that I had lost my cock privileges. Yes, you read that right. This wasn’t a sexual play scene, this was not a dynamic of our kink, he legitimately told me that I had lost my cock privileges and leg actually, as well, when I clarified that his dick was clearly not halfway down the distal portion of his thigh – anatomically speaking, that would be pretty questionable.

Now, I understand that there are times when you are so frustrated or hurt by someone that you cannot stand to be touched. This was not the case, this was someone’s recognition of having some unhealthy hold over me. The fact that I ever even continued to desire this person, from that point on, still makes me question myself to this day – my intelligence and self-awareness blinded by that silly thing we label love. But I do know why I still desired him and why we stayed together for almost another year following that incident and for the same reason I know he will lie awake in bed at night, maybe tonight or 5 years from now and think what the fuck did I do, letting that girl go, and will still think of me when he’s inside someone else; because I knew who he was and not only did I accept him for it, but I loved him all the more for it. I put him on a goddamned pedestal and therein lies my first problem. I still love this man, I always will. I love what he taught me, about life and about myself. I love who he helped me become. I love the way he opened my mind and my heart. And even today, when I learned something he was the first person I wanted to tell – and I did. And I know why he let me go now and I’m glad that he did. There’s no question in my mind whether he misses me; but I realized at some point that more than missing him, I missed myself.

But this post is not about him and it’s not about some sappy love story. This is about desire and relationship dynamics and possession and worship.

You will fucking worship me. This is not meant in the manner of a dominant mistress or as some high maintenance broad you met on the street, this is me – you will worship me. You know why? Because I will worship you. I will not need you in my life, but I will want you in it and be better for it; and that fact and that feeling will be mutual. I will own you. This term has come up in (more than one) conversation recently. After sending someone a photo over his lunch break that expressed my desire for him, his response was that he owned me. This was not someone who knew of much of my kink or uses the term the way some might proclaim in this scene/site. It was his natural response and it naturally turned me the fuck on; and truth is, part of him does own part of me. Someone else commented on me owning the ability to instruct him how and when he could cum. This was fan-fucking-tastic, but this still isn’t the point. I will fucking own you. And not in that tell me where you’re going and who you’re with sort of way. And not in that in that manipulative controlling sort of way either. And not in that Instagram me a photo of what you had for lunch to make my life more fulfilling sort of way. I will fucking own you the same way you will own me, by sheer desire. I will wear you down in a way that will only make you want it more. If you are mine and I am yours, my body is yours. I know you will treat it with the utmost respect and appreciate the opportunity to see it, to touch it, to feel it against yours. My mouth, my pussy, my ass is yours to do with as you please and I know you will please me. I will do anything and everything to please you, because it pleases me. This is not my fetish, this is not some freaky fucked up kink. This is me and this is what you get when you get me. If you do not desire me the same way I desire you, in a way that makes my ribs sore from masturbating too much when you are not nearby – it is utterly fucking pointless and disappointing. I’ve been there, done that, and gotten way too many t-shirts from that convenient booty call I kept around for a couple years and felt disgusted with myself every time we were done. He did know how to touch me, sometimes, and was a good friend; so that wasn’t all in vain. But since then – After falling in love, you see the world a little differently. I cannot go back to that meaningless sex. And I don’t mean that I need a promise or a title or even necessarily a tomorrow, I just want it to mean something – in the moment and all the moments afterwards when I’ll be masturbating to the memories. I want to want you with my entire mind and my body and I will settle for nothing less. I’m not sure if being with one person forever is natural or what I want forever, but you know what is really fucking fun – is desiring someone so badly that you only want that one person and when that is reciprocated. I want to fall in love every single day with a moment or a feeling or an image. I want to fall in love every day with the way you make me feel and I want to make you feel like I’m someone worth falling in love with. And I hate to use the love word, mixing up sex and romance and feelings. As I told a friend recently, the “F” word used to scare me – feelings, bleck. Admittedly though, I’m human. And guess what?!? I have feelings, I have them every day – every minute of every day — and so do you. You will feel motivated, you will feel hungry, you will feel less than productive for being so distracted with desire all day, you will feel the need to be inside me. And the “R” word… Rape. Kidding. Silly goose, I had to kid about rape – that’s always a riot. Relationships, we all have them. As I also commented on, to a friend of mine – you have a relationship with the brush you paint with, understanding how it moves and relates to the canvas and what you want to communicate and project and what you will it to do. We have them all day, every day. I will rape you with my thoughts, images, desires. Kids, really though – real rape is no joke. Fucking rape me in the realest, rawest of ways – remind me how human I am, make my heart pound, and my cheeks blush, and my pussy wet. Make my mouth hurt – because I’m smiling and because I can’t stop cumming. My family always tells me when my dimple is out I’m up to something, make me want to be up to something. I want to make you uncomfortable and comfortable, as you will me.

Someone told me recently he wanted to know what turned me on, specifically. I told him I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him, then I told him that I was only willing to tell him because I knew he already knew how to turn me on (without my help)…so I sent him a 6 page letter. The conclusion was this, I don’t want false flattery or forever – I just want a moment in which I’d want to feel forever. I want that feeling that you don’t want to end. I want to cum so hard, but I want to not cum yet because the anticipation is almost as good. I want to explore and I want to learn and if someone can make it better together than alone, then I want to share that moment with that someone. I want us to be so satisfied that we will never be satisfied. I want someone honest and respectful enough to recognize we both know that I’m not the only girl in the world, but when I’m with you that I’m the only one that matters; and that doesn’t do this to prove anything to me, but because he can’t help himself but to behave any other way. I’m into orgasm control and denial and a tease, but we will never control one another, we will never deny one another, we will never offer or take something we cannot give of ourselves. I will fucking own you. I will never be denied your dick. You will consider my pussy a privilege and love it as much I love it. You will give my mind as much attention as my pussy, because you know they are both the best fuck you will ever get. And I make no claims to be better than anyone else, though I kind of can be…I just know I will be better with you and you with me. I am not making claims to be better in bed or more attractive than anyone else, I just know we will be better in bed together, and we would be so fucking attractive together and that in that moment with me you will want to feel like that forever, even if your forever isn’t with me. And you will never, ever, take for granted the privilege or the opportunity for that moment with me; and I will give myself to you, without giving up myself. And I will know what makes you tick and I will always want to know more and I will make your heart pound and I will be your fucking whore.

“I had to go through hell to prove I’m not insane, had to meet the devil just to know his name.” Ella Henderson

Oh, one more thing I meant to mention:
If you can’t find the time to fuck me, I can’t find a reason to let you.

 

11/2014

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