Pleasure @ MindSay 
love
I’m longing for the degradation
The lost of respect and honor
My skin is tingling, anticipating the touch that burns
My throat is parched, waiting for water that won’t quench
I’m longing for the degradation
The lack of compassion and care
My mind is waiting for the commands it must honor
My hands are searching for the demanded work
I’m longing for degradation
I’m longing for the high
I’m longing for worthlessness
But I’m setting my price high
But it just makes me really happy, and aroused sometimes. But even happiness that isn't sexual, it just brings me joy to make a guy have an orgasm.
I feel really disappointed if I try and don't succeed. It's only happened, once, but it made me sad. We weren't even going out. It's not about relationship I don't think, but I don't really know. I don't talk to many girls... so I don't have anything to compare with.
Could it be psychological? Is it a problem? I don't know... I just know that I could even have just met someone, as happened once, and I was playing with his little friend. I know it's not necessarily a sexual thing. I enjoy playing with it even when not involved in sexual activity, really. Like watching a movie, playing video games, etc. It usually turns him on, but I generally just like the feeling of it in my hands. And then, making him orgasm if we decide to engage in that.
Maybe it's a physical thing? I just like the touch, and to know how he is feeling. And having the power to make him feel good. Control or power, or just enjoying his pleasure? I don't know... It's kind of an obsession. But maybe not. I've never really talked to anyone about it. What do you think? Can anyone relate? >.<
Well it happened... March rolled in like a Lion here in Nova Scotia, the moon eclipsed ... and I turned the BIG 5-0. Rather uneventful due to a bout of the flu that kept me in bed for most of a 2 week vacation, what a waste that flu shot was this year! Oh well, I did get lots of rest before the big day so I was able to take it lying down AND sitting up!!
I decided a while ago that I loved being over 40, so moving on to 50 was something I looked forward to. At 40 life really opened up to me in so many ways, the first and most fun had to be the discovery of multiple orgasms....yes I said that!! My only wish...oh how I'd known at 20!!
The next best thing was singing. Since I had some kind of strange and cruel grade 2 teacher tell me I couldn't sing and was tone deaf, I'd never even tried. At 46 I thought one day ... %^#@ her, and I checked it out. Turned out I wasn't tone deaf, and could carry a note or two so I took singing lessons. I was a great time and opened new worlds to me I hadn't explored before.
Somewhere in there I started back on my many years of spiritual searching. The journey lead me to discover my personal path was Buddhism. Since then my world has changed so very much. It has become more wonderful, beautiful, open, kind, abundent, compassionate, and rich in every way. There is no way to truly express the experiences I have had with this other than to say that awakening to my true life has been awesome, strange, at times painful, and yet beautiful.
Between 40 and 50 my love deepened for my family and I discovered I loved dogs. Since then my dogs are a part of my family and have brought joy into all our lives. My daughters grew up, and with that came an amazing freedom, and a new relationship with the 2 that are now young adult women.
There was sadness of course, the loss of my mother, father-in-law, of friends and colleagues through job changes. There were stressors of all sorts, raising 3 teen girls, surviving high school with them, seeing them with their first broken hearts, and making it past Prom night.
There were simple discovery's such as the flavour of Jamican Blue Mountain coffee, Chai Tea, and Sushi, mosty because after 40 I became more daring and wanted to try new things of all sorts. I bought my first brand new car for just me and not because my husband picked it out as a "good buy". I gave things away, and am still struggling with purging much more of what I own that is truly useless to me now, but might serve someone else.
Pain also happened, physically with injuries and surgery. Emotionally with disappointments, losses, and hurt. Some caused by other's, some of my own making.
Yet, I survived it all and found within the freedom to finally be myself in most every way. I didn't have to care what other's thought, worry about impressions, or judgements. I stepped out of the fear of "just going for it" and did things I never imagined. I laughed and played more and harder, and when I cried I wailed. My heart grew larger, and my ego smaller. Sometimes this wasn't as pleasant as I'd like, it allowed me to feel more of other's pain, but it was so good to make such a connection with the world and all in it.
Friendship's deepened, and I found interesting new ways to make new friends.Fascinating people entered my life, each of them coming to either teach me, or learn from me, in one way or another.
I read 466 books, maybe more, that's the number I counted of books I own. Many more were given away, loaned, shared and passed on to where they need to be so are no longer on my shelves to count.
So.... what does one do at 50 to celebrate in a personal way this grand mark of half a century of life? A way that is silly, fun, daring, foolish, simple, and yet as bold as the number ? Well... one - ME - buys themselves the HOTTEST red high heeled shoes I could find, and gets a tattoo of something wonderfully meaningful to me, a Dragonfly. I giggle every time I look at the shoes, not sure if I can even walk in them anymore, but they are so fun to put on and take a few pictures in, or sing a song wearing, or.... something that might lead to that FIRST discovery!
My tattoo appointment is next week, I'm looking at designs.....it's an amazing time to be 50. I am going to LOVE and LIVE every second of this next decade that I am in this life to enjoy.
Namaste
Ok so this is where my questions start?
Are there REALLY not that many men out there that seem to be this way?
Is it truly as hard as some of my female friends make out to be to find a man that care more about you getting off then himself or at least really wants to see you equal amount of pleasure?
Are most men really seem to be all about GETTING in the sex and not giving?
That is it for now.. if you want to go more into stuff then these that is fine by me just wondering...
She felt his fingertips on her shoulder and shiver went through her as he stroked her. His fingertips stopped and caressed her breasts. It was a tender touch, sensuous and she relaxed a bit.
He had not spoken to her and she remained quiet trying to anticipate her responses. But how could you anticipate something you didn’t know? A second before she felt anxious, anticipating his first touch and now she was feeling confused. What was expected of her, what was it he desired? He cupped her breasts, massaged her nipples and she realized that she was restrained physically and visually in order to heighten the sensations she could feel. His hands were large to hold her full breasts, fingertips were a bit coarse, manicured, the palm of his hand was warm and the sensation went straight to her nipples.
She had been breathing in short rapid breaths, he began gently sucking on her nipples and she took a deep breath and let it out in a low moan. He responded by kissing her nipples, then her mouth. She felt his lips on hers and she pressed to it. He pulled away and she strained against her restraints to hold his touch. She felt isolated in that split second with no connection to him and the thought stabbed through her. The warmth of his hand on her breasts was gone, the reassuring tenderness of a soft kiss was gone and all she could feel against her skin was the cool room air and the bindings.
Seconds passed and room seemed cooler than it was before he touched her, it seemed bigger and the feeling of emptiness was overwhelming. She lowered her head and sighed, feeling her weight against the restraints. Another second passed and she felt the warmth of palm of his hand return to her breast, and his warm breath as he kissed her cheek. He had been right next to her, something her rational mind knew, but her senses couldn’t. This time she didn’t move her head and he rewarded her by lightly pinching her nipple and sucking on the other.
The sensation of him touching her skin, filled her and pushed back the cool air and she warmed herself as he pinched and sucked her nipples and fondled her breasts. Her breathing slowed, she lowered her head again and pushed her breasts forward, offering him more. The low moan from him was like praise and she caught her breath, and pulled again against her restraints to feed him more and whimpered at the sweet torture. He kissed her mouth again and she parted her lips, careful not to press. She was rewarded with a longer kiss and feeling his lips massage hers. She breathed her kiss into him and wanted to feel him hold her in his arms, relaxing against her restraint, turning her head hoping he would extend this moment.
He ended the kiss and then gave her another short one, for learning the rules of the new game so quickly she thought. She could not anticipate what response would be required or appropriate. She could not use all of her senses, only the ones he allowed her to use. She was praised by knowing his pleasure and his response, she was rewarded with pleasure for pleasing him.
The kiss had ended a moment before, she thought through the new rules, she thought of the warmth that radiated through her, the emptiness, the isolation of his absence his touch, or praise. What could she do, what was required now? What was he waiting for?
She raised her head high for a moment, then slowly lowered it and relaxed against her restraints. She understood, and submitted, opened her body and more, her mind to his pleasure, and would be grateful for his acceptance, his touch, her reward and pleasure he would provide. She was awaiting warmth, pleasure, his pleasure and wanted this universe to shrink around her in his arms, under him, feeling him inside her, and she waited for him to end the ache.
“Excellent. Perfect my pet.” He whispered and her heart leapt at the praise, her senses heightened at anticipating something required of her. She didn’t wait long as he pressed his cheek against hers and she felt the sweet tingle of his fingertips on her tummy and traced the sensation as they went lower. She held her cheek against his, and opened her legs as best she could and felt herself swelling and wet.
She knew what she must do and opened herself . . .
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