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November 12, 2005

POWER

Sex is different things to different people.

To me it is an expression of sensuality and affection, as well as a transfer of power.

As my experience has grown, I have been more selective in my choice of lovers and the seduction of each. While there is always a physical component, I find I am drawn to men of fierce intelligence, humor, and innate self-confidence. It is a strength of conviction and character that I find irresistible, as well as a sense of being and purpose.

Coincidentally, but not unexpectedly, these men typically have fiery tempers and extremely passionate hearts. Theirs have been wandering souls who answer to no man and, certainly, to no woman. Our couplings are usually intense and may last for months on end, though I have yet to mate for life.

Mine is a guarded heart which maintains a tight reign on the passions which flame within my soul and course through my body. I remain vigilant not to singe not only myself, but the object of my desire. Experience and time have taught me well how best to forever brand the psyche of my intended to ensure in the long nights of the years after me, he will still yearn for all that I am.

When darkness falls and he closes his eyes a familiar longing will stir deep within him. Whether he beds alone or with another there will remain a deep part of him that will be satisfied by no other. It is not love, but a much stronger and far more base emotion. It is need, a primal requirement to couple with one who takes as wholly and completely as she gives.

Once I have encountered a man capable of challenging my mind, as well as tempting my body, I let him know he stirs me so with subtle glances, almost accidental contact, and that rare glimpse into the passions to be found within. If he is worthy, he then seeks to seduce through methods of his own. The dance will continue over days and nights until I know his thoughts are consumed with me, as mine are of him.

When I feel the time is ripe, I usually appear and catch him rather unaware. Neither the time nor the place is that carefully orchestrated because, above all, I am human and when desire consumes, it pays little heed to convention. Besides, I enjoy life lived precariously and if one is so fortunate to catch a voyeuristic glance of the hunt and rapturous capture, it will be yet another mark I have left on man.

There are several components to this dance and each one beats to a slightly different vibe, but when rhythm is achieved, the result is exhilarating and intoxicatingly heady, indeed.

It has long been observed that men are visual creatures and easily aroused by what appears before them. What little has been explored are the vivid images captured well within the mind’s eye of many men that are triggered to fantastical display when he has been temporarily blinded, his hands rendered momentarily lame, and his primary source of sensory input is reduced to tactile.

If one is without imagination at this point, allow me to paint a picture.

Several years ago I had the pleasure of dining al fresco at an intimate club on a secluded bay in Ranguana, Belize. It was the end of my first week in country and throughout my days I had experienced the sensation of being observed. As I swam in the Caribbean, lounged on the beach or walked through the sleepy village there were moments when I felt some stranger’s glance on me, almost as a caress, and my body responded by a tightening of my breasts, a tickle along the nape of my neck, and a stirring between my legs.

My admirer finally made his presence formally known by approaching my table and asking to join me. When I looked at him, I realized I knew his eyes because they had visited me in my sleep and reflected a longing I knew well. As we feasted on wine, seafood, and fresh fruits, we spoke as old acquaintances, though our paths had not before crossed.

As the sun set and a breeze began to blow in earnest, he took my hand and led me to a desolate, but surprisingly torch-lit beach where a lonely bonfire crackled and danced in the wind. He knew as well as I our destiny lay in limbs intertwined and he was comfortable and confident to allow me the pleasure of the lead.

His way was that of a watcher, an observer for all time. He engaged when and with whom he chose to engage. Instinctively I knew any attempt to push or prod him to an action outside his will would force him to retreat deep within himself.

His power was to make himself felt by the touch of his gaze.

His power was no threat to me, so I allowed myself to become a willing accomplice to his machinations. The challenge was to shake him from within and compel him to act through primal urges rather than solid directive of the mind.

Turning to him in both firelight and reflected moonbeams off the water, I kissed him lightly and stepped from him. As he continued to watch intently, I slowly shed each of my garments until nothing remained but my long hair whipping wildly and partially obscuring my face. Taking my skirt in my hand I ripped not one, but two long thin pieces of fabric. Tying both strips loosely around my neck, I abandoned the remainder to the wind.

Smiling coyly, I placed my hands firmly on his chest and lightly kneaded the muscles beneath. Slowly and without taking my eyes from his, I began to unbutton his shirt. I then divested him of his shoes, undid his belt, and unfastened his pants. Whenever he attempted to touch me, I stopped and purposefully pushed his hands away.

When he became more insistent, I took one of the strips of fabric and stepped behind him. Taking first one of his hands, then the other, I tied them together loosely behind his back. As he continued to watch, I could see in his eyes uncertainty had encroached. His confidence was ebbing, even as his desire grew.

Standing full in front of him, I pressed my flesh against him and kissed him deeply to further incite the passions of his desire. Alternately tasting, kissing, and biting him slightly from his lips, along his neck and to his nipples, I stoked him. As the next deep gaze revealed the uncertainty had abated, I took the final strip, doubled it, and fashioned a blindfold, then continued to completely disrobe him.

As he quivered in desire-filled anticipation tinged by fear, I asked him to speak to me and tell me how much he wanted me. I asked him to say my name and describe for me what he wanted.

Standing on the beach I covered him with my hands, my mouth, and my body. With no effort or voluntary exertion from him, I brought him to the height of passion and lead him crashing over the breaks of ecstasy. All he knew was me, my touch, my feel, and my name. He was mine. His soul was seared with me.

Only after he was spent did I remove his binds and allow him to explore all that I am.

For my remaining week in Belize we spent our time trying to match the intensity of that first night with only varying degrees of success. An attentive lover, he was most willing to please but failed to grasp the concept of power in our couplings. I wanted from him what I continue to seek from he who will be my mate: I want him to exert the emotional and sexual power over me that I have wielded over the men who have come before. I want to be taken and consumed so I can experience the rebirth and unbridled intensity I so willingly provide.

There is one out there who I feel has the power and strength to complete me.

I fear him, as much as I want him.

God help me.

Posted by Domino at November 12, 2005 01:42 PM | Domino ~ | The Future ~ | The Present

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