Clean and Dirty

One of the downsides of the wonderful place I share with C is that the bath is too small for the two of us. So today, while he bathed,  I sat at one end of the bath and massaged and washed his feet and legs. I used some of my favourite Lush products and lovingly caressed his feet, massaging the tense feelings away from them. Up his leg, gently running my hands over his muscles and lovingly paying attention to every knot. I looked into his eyes as I obediently rinsed off the suds. I moved to his back and scrubbed it clean with my exfoliation bar. Rinsing it off and smiling at his lovely clean scent.

I love to wash people like that. To love them with the warm water and sensual scents. It is a real turn on for the sub in me to bath the ones I care for.

I am a little less sexually frustrated today as I appeared to have seduced my way into getting C into bed for a fun few hours of an afternoon romp which left me breathless (in the good way) and grinning like a loon. I really missed the way he fucks me. He is amazing in bed. The way he holds my wrists, scratches my back and growls into my ear just makes me shudder and fall to my knees. He knows just what to do to make me his.

Cravings

I crave him so bad. The taste of his lips on mine. The touch of skin on skin. The hard press of his cock against my back as he holds me, caressing my nipples to attention.

He comes to bed when I am already asleep and I awake before he wants to get up. My thoughts turn to the past when G didn't want to sleep with me any more. I have no evidence this is the case, but I miss our daily exhaustive passions.

Tumblr teases me with glistening shafts penetrating, girls with long, sticky lollies and tongues intertwining with genitalia. All my mind can do is crave then when that craving is not satisfied move to the past and ruminate on why.

I believe until I get this sorted out I cannot move onto looking for outside attention. I wouldn't want for him to feel as unwanted as I do. He is inundated with offers, from over the seas, from over the hill. Boys, girls, they all want him. They want to taste what I crave. I am afraid he will give it to them before me.

I see

I see girls that inspire me. Pictures of acts that I desire.Tumblr is an interesting place. I am swamped with porn, art and cupcakes.

I have friends that say why don't I go out and find a girl or a boy to just play with while C isn't interested in that kind of thing at the moment. I tell them that strangers, one night stands and arranged liaisons don't seem to want to do it for me at the moment. I need connection before I can entertain the idea.

I miss cock. Crude I know, but I miss it's taste, the feel of it on my tongue and the wanton desire it inspires in the receiver. I miss my knees being dirtied by the floor as I am thrust onto all fours and taken hard and fast from behind.

I crave female attention yet when I get it I hide. I am afraid of not being what they want. I am scared of rejection so I let them make the first move. Then I freeze. Unknowing if to take the lead or to do as I am told. I like to hold girls down while I make them squeal from fingers pressing against moist panties then snaking their way behind and into warm, dark places. I like the gasps they try to emit as my hand wraps around their throat and I nibble at their thighs. Breathing hot breath on cold panties.

I was told never to ask for what you want. If someone wants to give you it they will let it be known. Always let others make the first move, then you know they want you. Now I am told to ask or make moves. What if she isn't that way inclined? She can only say no right? But to me, that is a knife in the stomach.

We will fix it?

I asked for a Master. I got a Lover.  He teases me with kisses that never lead anywhere.

I asked for a Mistress. I got a friend. She teased me with promises that never came to fruition.

I crave that hand around my throat, the tight grip in my hair and the slap of flesh on flesh as my head is filled with the scent of the pillow.

I am too fragile, she says. She cannot take responsibility of that. She can't afford for goods broken in this store.I wasn't even given the chance to show that I bounce when dropped. She just walked out and never came back.

He doesn't want to hurt me. Afraid of why I like tearing skin. Love isn't about being rough. Although love doesn't seem to be about anything at the moment.

They say to seek out what I want. I have the freedom. Only nothing else has tasted quite as sweet and so I don't want what is on offer.

I am a pervert without a cause. A rebel without claws. A kitten without a collar. And the mice on the mouse organ have ceased to sing.