Freedom

I wrote something very different tonight.

Almost all of my fiction of recent years has been wrapped up in either blatant or subtle kink. It’s been a very long time since I wrote something that had no kink at all to it.

But I did tonight.

The idea found me earlier this week (and yes, the ideas find me, I don’t find them) and even as I wrote through the Princess story and a couple of others with a very strong male dominant slant, this one hounded at the edge of my mind, begging to be written.

So I wrote it.

And I enjoyed writing it.

I’ve said before that a very large part of me is sexually submissive. But there are other parts of me as well. And tonight, the ‘girl who just wants to fuck’ came out loud and clear.

It’s probably intimidating to people who have ‘some kink’ or relate to a few kinky ideas without being full bore into it – to think that a sexually submissive female (or male) or a sexually dominant male (or female) want that, and only that, all the time.

Fact is, I doubt that any of us do.

I do occasionally enjoying being sexually dominant as well, given the right circumstances. And while a straight vanilla fuck with no foreplay and a partner with limited knowledge of the mechanics of a ‘good fuck’ would do absolutely nothing for me, all the pomp and circumstance of BDSM doesn’t have to live in the bed with me every night, either.

The fact of the matter is, I’m very open to trying most new things – kinky or not. And the other fact is that if I have a lover in whom I trust, I’m more than willing to do whatever their mind can come up with – or whatever they inspire in my own mind.

The freedom of feeling that with someone is electric. The freedom of doing it is mind-blowing.

And the freedom to feel it is priceless.

I sighed, audibly this time. He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “Something you need?”
“Yes.”
“What’s that?”
“Your cock.”
He looked at me silently for a long moment. “Really.” He looked back at the screen. And began to type.
I made an exasperated sound. He didn’t look up.
“Really. Yes.”
“Right now?”
“Right now would be preferable, yes.”
He looked over the top of his glasses at me again. I took the opportunity to kneel upright on the bed and slide my robe over my shoulders, and off my arms. My breasts spilled over the top of the long, black bustier and the black silk thong and thigh-high stockings did nothing to hide my intentions.
“You certainly came prepared.” He kept his voice even, but I could almost detect a fine layer of sweat forming on his brow. Good.
“I did. I’m good that way.”
“If you say so.” He looked at me for a moment longer, allowing his eyes to dip down into my cleavage for a quick glance before going back to the LCD screen in front of him.
I widened my eyes and cleared my throat. “You’re not interested?” I asked, a little put out.
“I didn’t say that.”
I didn’t answer.
He didn’t look up. “You just had my cock last night. You didn’t get enough?”
“No. I don’t know if I’ll ever have enough."