A Sir desires

The touch of your skin is a translation of affection expressed through the medium of nerve endings
Endeavoring to awaken in you a fire which cannot be quenched
To know with a glance
Sure hands over soft skin
Eager lips made slow
Pressing lips like vise over artery
Tasting jumping pulse
Struggling to gasp breathe to synapse
Breathe deeply in ragged flame
Gifts given
Ignite fires
Kindled deep in bones
Leather and pulse pain
Bruises marking mine
Say ready
Say more
Say yes
I would have you in all the ways of imagining
Of experience and of desire
Not once, not twice
Until yield and sleep
But waking
Join in grip of heart
Allow me to wake your fire
Consume me as I consume you
Taking nothing for granted
Allow passion to rewrite your stars

Nightmares are Also Dreams part 8-Tara

It’s a thin fiction that I can’t hear the snap of the belt through the bathroom door but I know Pel needs that. He is trying to keep me safe and I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m better now. I was lost in subspace and had a bad flashback. I wish he’d stop acting like I’m about to break.

The hot water pounds against my shoulders, easing tensions I didn’t know I was carrying. Soaping up and sluicing off quickly, still I stand in the heat and spray. The air grows thick and hard to breathe. And almost, it feels easier to keep going and allow the wet and heat to drown me in the air. It’s not that I want to die or that I’m not happy. It’s that sometimes the pain of remembering is so heavy. I know that I need to get out and get going. But I just can’t.

The sounds in the shower change. The pressure in the room lightens and the air cools. I hear from the doorway, “Tara? Are you ok?”
Pel’s sweet voice fills me with shame and rage and just for a split second resentment.
I turn off the water jets, feeling a sullen bleakness settle down, and step out.

He’s waiting with a big towel. Arms stretched wide to envelope me. And shame overwrites the bleakness. Seeing him, trying to take care of me. I step into his arms and he rubs me down with the towel. Hands soft and firm. Businesslike and still I feel them linger over me. Never where you’d think. On my calves, down my side, along my spine. All dry.

The wet warmth vanishes and I stumble briefly, I’d leaned too far into him. But just as quick, warm robes encircle me. His arms pull me close. I feel his heart beat, that steady thump, for me. For me.

My body leaned back against his. His mouth against my ear. He whispers, “It’s time to get ready my Tara dove. Your clothes are laid out in the guest bedroom. Please get dressed in there.”

The guest bedroom? Why there?
Am I being punished…
Despair drifts back in, unbidden, as if through an open window

“Sara is taking up the whole bed, I’m afraid and we can’t have your dress getting dirty.”

I feel like I just slumped in relief…
Maybe he’s not completely wrong. It’s hard to admit. That I’m not just ok. It’s hard but I know…He does whatever he can to make me safe which is sometimes exhausting for me. But he’s not wrong either. I’m a grown ass woman and it’s hard to be taken care of like I’m not.

“Tara,” he asks quietly.

I shake out of a reverie that I guess dragged on and say, “Ok,” as brightly as I can. I brush past Pel and see Sara is splayed out on the bed. Wrists and ankles bound to the four corners. The bed top has been replaced by a white shiny leather one. A blindfold and ball-gag covers her eyes and mouth. I briefly feel something like lust and jealousy all rolled together. But I go to the guest room and find the outfit picked out for me.

Its peach! From the lace underwear and bra all the way to the two knives I’ll conceal on me, peach.
Where did he get blades that are peach colored?

That Texan drawl

Want that slow sensual burn

To crawl inside your mind

Run my skin over your thoughts

Feel your needs and desires

Granting each in turn

Denying each at my whim

There is no rush

Not looking for the sharp pulse of orgasm

Burn me alive in the feel of your skin

Talk to me about telomeres as I taste your sweat

Quench my control and lead me into frenzy

 

Let passion flow through

Speak of rhythm and rhyme
Make music in body, in soul
Dance to melody
As silk cut from your shoulders
Floats twisting to the bedroom floor
Each turn building until
Smiling
We are made whole
Take hand in mine
Ungainly until Unfettered
Move hips and roll body
Looking for yours
In the spaces between us
Locking in place like snapped puzzle pieces
Eyes drinking in
And the beat
And the beat
And the beat
Begins

Minutes, wind and wistful

Heat slips into veins
Heart beating in time with the trickle pulse
Of desulatory wind
Welcome arms as old lovers
Embrace to catch the sun

Light shivers and moans
Bare skin burn
Thrust hopeful into embrace of day

Foreknowledge speaks the coming night
Tears break ranks
Falling to the thirsty earth

Moon and stars rise
High waters drown the light
And I
Forgotten
Sleep
Bereft of touch

A lovers promise

I can inflict upon you such pleasure that lines begin to blur and only your desires dictate which is pain and which is pleasure.
I can make your mind tremble with anticipation of my touch.
With trepidation and luscious full lips.
I can show you a world where only your limits contain you.
Where nothing is forbidden.
Where all pains become pleasures and all sensation serves its truest purpose.
Give me your hand and I will make you mine.
And becoming mine know safety and sin.