Seize the night.

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$youmakemeneedyou: Curves, Flows and Details I am constantly fascinated by the endless variation in women’s bodies and how their curves have the power to seduce. I adore how subtlety the shape of a woman’s body can transform with a small shift in position or attitude. I can lose myself in those sweeps and undulations for what seems like days. Tracing those paths with my fingers, mouth and tongue. And as I move her, direct and control her, to see how those vistas change. To watch the small of her back transform, her buttocks ripen and blossom as I curve her spine with the pull of my hand against her hair. To delve in to the fractal folds of her labia, to decompose my desire to that one small delicate part of her and be lost forever in her endless Mandelbrot. Each delicate fold and twist, delicate petals to be caressed, educated and seduced. Her entire body, mine to own, possessed by concentrating on those few sweet folds of flesh. I despair of the man who is so wrapped up in his own petty desire that he loses site of the endless pleasure that can be had be focusing on someone else. I am a dominant man, I adore the control I can inspire, I am only truly whole when I have a woman who has chosen to give herself to my direction. But to me that domination is a thin veneer, a shallow facade, if I do not use it to ultimately fulfill her passion, to find her vitality. I derive my pleasure from taking her to a place she didn’t think possible. To push her boundaries, not as a simple play thing, a toy for me to control but as a woman who has entrusted herself to my vision of her and it is my role to create it. My passion is to see her lose control and for me to sustain that loss. My ecstasy is to hold her there, over and over and know that only I can keep her there and know she must have more. My pleasure is her pleasure. It always has been. But I am not controlled by her desire, not once she has given me charge of it, it is mine to mould. I am in charge of it. And at times that pleasure is to allow her to abandon herself to me completely, to my selfish desire, for me to possess her totally and without restraint. But only because I understand her desire, her dark needs, the part of her she won’t admit to herself. I want her to come to realise that is what she is, I want her to know where she is alive. Domination for me (and I only talk about me here, I am not judging anyone else’s reflection of their desires or pleasures, that is their right when it is done with thought and care) is to grow the other person, to feel them swell beneath a harsh grip. It is not about me. Never is. It can’t be. A selfish desire is a sudden flash, temporary, self consuming and pointless. A thoughtful desire, an intelligent possession is self-fulfilling, it grows and builds each participant. And it is a beautiful thing. It is never vulgar. And it all starts with that delicate little sweep across her upper thigh, the curve I have to posses first with my fingers, then my mouth and finally with my mind. The details. Awareness of the details. Always the details. That is where the glory is. Pondering by The Dirty Romantic http://youmakemeneedyou.tumblr.com$

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south-england:

Crashing Down, Wales »» Thomas Hanks

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"Angry, and half in love with you, and tremendously sorry, I turned away."

-F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (via blessed-coast)

2,963 notes - 20 June