When I make love to this man, I am the submissive of the pleasure he gives me.
I am the kind of person who loves control and order. In those moments, I let go. I get free of the pressure. I let my body speak. Anyway, whether I like it or not, when he caresses me, nibbles, licks me, fingers, aspires me hmm, in short, when he honors me, I am no longer mistress of my body and this sensation is intoxicating. It’s my drug, my endorphin and dopamine shoot.
When I make love to this man, this loan of one night, I reveal my body, my pleasure and my desires. I do not ask myself any questions about others that he could have or may have had. As Julia Roberts says in “Eat, pray,love”, if he does not run away at the sight of my naked body it is because he loves what he sees. In itself, it’s the little extra to put me at ease and feel sexy despite the imperfections of my body.
After the embarrassment of stripping, I apply myself to be the lover who guesses the areas that put him in a trance. I become marshmallow under his caresses then amazone under his blows of kidneys. I claw, he bites, I lick, he hits. We become a series of actions-reactions, gestures that require no reflection. After all, enjoying the pleasures of life is a freedom, sometimes a goal.
When I make love to this man, I am free to give myself pleasure with him, in him, thanks to him.