We’ll Have Sex Again, I Promise
The joke was that we had to have sex before the election, because if Donald Trump won, I never wanted to be touched again. It was a joke. A joke.
The joke was that we had to have sex before the election, because if Donald Trump won, I never wanted to be touched again. It was a joke. A joke.
I wish someone had told me sooner that I had been seeking mastery all this time, but I wouldn’t have been ready to hear it. Until r came along.
“It was everything I had been looking for, only better, because it came along with smooching and cuddling and spanking.”
“When I’m being used for sex, I feel like a vessel through which pleasure flows, hot and bursting.”
Your curriculum isn’t “one size fits all” if “all” means “nondisabled straight people.”
It took me years to settle into the idea that masculinity and topping were actually, authentically my identities.
Somehow, self-identifying as a submissive makes some potential doms think I am their sub.
You just have to be honest about what you’re looking for, and keep going after it.
“I guess I had a lot of opinions that night because you told me that I was especially chatty. I told you it was because you weren’t giving me anything to keep my mouth busy.”
Sometimes, being in kinky subspace opens old wounds from an abusive relationship — but sometimes, it can give you the power to close them.
I want to break things — holes, walls, people. I want to feel the begging in my pelvis and let it ignite the fire under me to burn bright up my spine and light up all my colors.
I imagine being a collared submissive as a physical manifestation of my and my dominant’s commitment, a symbol around kinky folks and a public secret around vanilla ones.
“He’d asked me about it before, saying it was something he’d always wanted. And now, he was quivering on the floor, looking up at me, handing me an open knife with both hands.”
I don’t always play to get off. Sometimes denial is exactly what I want.
“I really really want to like going down on her, but I don’t. It feels overwhelming — the smell, the taste, the trouble breathing.”
In the beginning checking in all the time was useful. But after six months of it, Sarah was getting annoyed.
“For me, as a Black Trans Woman, to find her body not only as something worthy and magnificent (as it is), but to find someone to share that magick with, may very well be one of the only moments she has to enjoy a trying and very taxing life — one that’s always trying to kill her.”
As my gender expression changes, so does who I’m attracted to.
“But when we changed the game a little, and added just a few little things, our play soared to new mountain summits I hadn’t even known we could reach, or let alone want.”
As I grow more into the submissive I want to be, I grow to love myself more.