My fetish

It occurs to me that I’ve never stated my fetish. Yes, I’ve said I’m a BDSM Switch weighted towards Top. But to me that’s like saying I’m Pansexual. It’s just a fact, a part of who I am on a fundamental level. Now, most kinky things, they are just part of the landscape. Albeit a more interesting one than vanilla values. Tying up or being tied up is just interesting if you get me. The more complex the better to my way of thinking in general.

My fetish however? It’s simple. I get off on the pleasure of my partner. Not in a ‘let’s everyone have a good time’ way, but in that I require their pleasure for my own. I like going down on women for that reason alone, along with the shear physicality of it. I study anatomy and psychology to further my options. I have spent many times with partners going down for a few hours. I recommend strapons with me because I’m nearly guaranteed to orgasm multiple times while going down and I want my partner to have more pleasure than I can physically provide. As fetish’s go, I think its a good thing for all parties.

Switchy thoughts in the Afternoon

I’ll tell you my innermost thoughts but you’ll see only filthy desires.

I hear you say “Come over here.” An innocent phrase, but it makes me want to crawl to you. To say, “Yes, Mistress,” and wait for your next command.
Gazing up in adoration. Waiting to be beaten, punished, taken, humiliated and fucked. Waiting to hear the order to pleasure you. For most I’m a Master, for you I’d trade in my paddle for a collar, at least for a while.


Wanting you all the time
Needing to taste your body and your mind
Wanting your stories
And the look on your face as you lose yourself to pleasure
Needing to feel your skin whenever
And to hear your thoughts on Pablo Neruda
Wanting your voice to talk with confidence about everything in your world, including me
Maybe I’m selfish
Maybe I want too much

Each grain falls alone

Broken up and broken
Shattered up and shooken
Beaten and battered
You’re all that had mattered
Dreams are forever
But in reality it’s never
Reap and repeat
I wish it were more upbeat
But it’s all just ruthless
All my efforts are fruitless
These aren’t games that I play
But emotions run deep
For all that I say
I am here for keeps
Need a word in my ear
Something to tell me to stay
To make me take that leap
To fight all that is fear
And wait.

Thoughts that spill tears

I haven’t been to sleep in 24 hours
And I can feel the sluggish nature of my thoughts, but I think I’d be OK if I never slept again. Because when I sleep I dream and I remember my dreams. I’m aware in them. And often I’m with someone who loves me. It’s not Morgan anymore. I don’t know who they are. I just know that they wait for me beyond the veil of sleep. They accept and love me for all of me, my flaws, everything that I am. And that’s great but I leave them. I wake and I’m torn away from them over and over. I don’t know how long I can endure that. So not sleeping seems the better course, but I feel like I could be betraying them by staying away. What if they are as real as I am and they wait for me? What if we’re both just searching and this is what we’ve found. It’s both insane and sad when I write it out, but that’s who I am right now. A sad, lonely writer, dreaming of something he had, that it seems he’ll never have again. Madness seams a refuge in that case.