Symbiotic

I don’t want you to change
I fell in love with you as you are
I yearn for you to kneel before me
But to do so out of love and respect
Not as a fearful servant
Or robotic slave
I yearn to fulfill your wants and needs
While keeping you protected and safe
It’s my natural inclination
A dominant personality
Dominant—not domineering
And I’m thrilled by your strength
That you’ve made your way in this world
I respect you for it
Plus, you know I enjoy the challenge
Of a strong, intelligent, and talented woman
With stimulating conversation—
Both in and out of the bedroom
The type of man I am
I would lose respect for myself
Having a sub forced to kneel out of fear
But a sub that willing submits, obeys, and kneels
Out of love, respect, and reverence
Touches me to my very core
It’s a symbiotic relationship
Submit to me willingly…and I’m yours forever

Being a “Great Lover”

While some people willingly admit it, most people secretly wish they could be known as a great lover. Society often convinces women that they must possess the sensitivity of Sappho, the youthful exuberance of Lolita, the confidence of Mae West, the experience of a high-class call-girl, comprehensive training in the art of the Kama Sutra, and all while remaining somewhat virginal.

Similarly, the male populace often feels like they must have the endurance of a Navy Seal, the comedic timing of Robin Williams, the crowd-pull of the latest flavor-of-the-month rock star, a list of lovers longer than Don Juan, a reputation that equals Casanova, while having an arsenal of kinky sex techniques that would make the Marquis de Sade blush.

Although I was not a virgin when one of my high school teachers decided to unofficially invest a lot of time in my sex-education—which I thought rather odd for a history teacher to do—I was still somewhat surprised at society’s ever-changing and seemingly impossible qualifications to achieve the reputation of a great lover. And I still refuse to believe the absurd claim of Cock Robin of Peckerwood, and how he satisfied a dozen pussies simultaneously: one with each finger plus penis and tongue. After all, the most I ever satisfied simultaneously was four pussies—with tongue, dick, and both hands wielding vibrators—and that only happened once in an adolescent wet dream.

I can truthfully say that I’ve had more than my share of female companionship. But whether that has to do with my stunning good looks (and you can ask the entire class at the Helen Keller Finishing School), my savoir faire sales pitch (I can close a relationship deal faster than any used car salesman selling recycled condoms in prison), or the repetitive use of my honey-flavored dick trick, I couldn’t say. Heck, maybe I simply had a bad case of halitosis and didn’t know it. Oops! There goes another one, So, it’s back to the dating game again.

Honestly, I did have my share of ladies and an abundant sex-life. But after getting physically messed-up during my military hitch—becoming partially disabled—I was obviously concerned about my prospects for a future love-life.

Like most young men I had, at least partially, bought into society’s lies. So, I was worried my sexual stamina might not fully recover as my body healed. Especially when considering that just below my diaphragm to just above my crotch I have enough scars to look like a freeway map of Los Angeles.

Convinced I needed an edge to remain competitive in the social arena I devoured books on sex. But, I added something most young men never consider, books on understanding women. Whether it was from the male perspective, female perspective, medical or psychological perspectives, I didn’t care; I read them all. That is, until I awoke one morning and realized I was thinking like a woman. But I had that exorcised right out of me, and my head didn’t spin around like Linda Blair’s.

In hindsight, I doubt I needed to invest the amount of time and effort that I did in learning about sex and women. However, the effort was clearly rewarded. But now we come to the million-dollar question: Did all the women, experience, and book knowledge make me a “Great Lover?”

Absolutely not.

Yes, much of it was enjoyable. But an equal amount was meaningless. And while there is a certain amount of male pride that develops when pleasuring women almost seems to come naturally—yep, the natural result of decades of sexual exploration and experience—you quickly come back to reality when you realize the vast majority of it has no bearing on whether you’re a “great lover” in the eyes of your present mate.

Now, I know a lot of you older guys who know the simple recipe for being a great lover are probably screaming, “Don’t give it away, dumbass! Let them find it the hard way like we did. It’ll be hilarious watching them continually fuck-up.”

I say, get over it. We’re suppose to be mentors to the next generation.

So, all you young guys listen up. Especially if you still think fucking only has one speed (jackhammer hard), if you think foreplay is a golf term, if you think sex should not last longer than a commercial break, or if your after-sex ritual is rolling over and going to sleep.

Here it is: the quality of lovemaking between you and your mate strictly relies on the level of love, respect, trust, and amount of communication your relationship is built on. It’s that simple!

The more you love, respect, and trust each other the deeper and more honest and open your communication will be. The better the communication the more intimately you will know her. And when you discover all her intimate desires and fantasies, and learn all her favorite body points, along with what triggers her lusts, fulfilling them on a regular basis will quickly elevate your sexual prowess in her eyes.

In other words, if you don’t want to learn all about your mate in order to fulfill her wants and needs, you will never be a great lover in her eyes.

The choice is up to you.

great lover 4

Lovers Touch

It’s not always from orifice with kat I cum
Delight is equally found between nimble fingers and thumb
With pleasing softness do they journey make
Up, down, and around the manly snake
Eliciting an occasional spasmodic quiver and quake
Sparks connection with my heart, emotion does move
For all with kat enhances thru our love
Now mind and body, pleasure partners crowd
Music plays and Eros laughs aloud
When reality and fantasy thru arousal now does cloud
kat plies me still with manual stimulation
With wicked grin while mastering mutual masturbation
I feel the rise of urgent primal need
As her unbounded skill charms forth my manly seed
While thru my veins the lusty liquid flies
I think of poets long ago, who claimed “tis’ how one dies”
A gushing forth of pure delight…
From lovers touch and lovers sight

Humble Pie

Humble—

The dictionary defines humble as: “having a feeling of insignificance, inferiority, subservience, etc.” when it is used as a noun; when used as a verb: “to make meek: to humble one’s heart.” There are other variations of definitions, but these two are the ones that speak to me.

A few days ago, I had to eat a big slice of humble pie, and I’m still feeling the effects; metaphorically, I’m still suffering horrible indigestion. And it has humbled me.

I won’t go into details (though Alpha has the right if he so chooses), too embarrassing for me to share even here where I can hide behind the veil of anonymity; but I will say I disrespected Alpha big time, and now I’m paying for it—or will pay for it. We’re in separate states right now, but when he gets home, I’m in for the spanking of my life. And I deserve whatever punishment he chooses to mete out…and probably more. But the physical punishment will pale in comparison to the anguish I feel in my heart.

I feel ashamed, embarrassed, and humbled because of what I did. And strangely enough, extremely submissive. Alpha handled the situation with his usual aplomb, never once raising his voice or showing anger; the man is the most unflappable person I’ve ever known. Yes, he let me know I had screwed up, that he was hurt, and there would be a price to pay; but he never berated me. I yearn to kneel before him, tell him I’m sorry (again), and hold out the belt to him. And when he comes home, I will do just that.

I’m not an old hand to D/s—Alpha being the only man I’ve ever submitted to—and how I’m feeling because of my horrible transgression has surprised me. Yes, I’m his sub, but I’ve never felt this level of submission before. I’ve never felt this level of reverence for Alpha before; yes, I have always respected him, but now it has gone deeper.

And I wonder why this has happened, why I feel even more deeply now that Alpha is my Dom and I am his submissive, that I am His, body, heart, and soul. Why would my screw-up cause my feelings to intensify?

I don’t understand it, but I think Alpha is pleased—not with my action, but how it ultimately affected my submission. He has always told me that he saw the submissive in me almost from the beginning, but I had my doubts if it was truly in my nature. But judging by how I’m feeling now, I have to admit that maybe he was right all along.

But it took the right man to draw it out of me: Alpha…my Dom…my Daddy.

Alpha’s response is here

Alpha’s Bawdy Word Play: 6th Installment

This is a modern version of Bawdy Word Play, Erotica, or Tongue Twisters similar to the Vaudeville & Burlesque periods.

 

Joy lost, Joy gained
A boy with a toy had hours of joy
From dawn till dusk he did play
But the boy with the toy lost his joy
When a bully took his toy away
Then a girl with a pearl that liked to twirl
Met the boy in the woods one day
Saw a tear in his eye; said, “Please, don’t cry
We can share what no bully can take away.”
“I have a lock and you have a key,
It’ll bring us pleasure and great joy.”
“What trick are you trying to play?
I see no lock or key,” said the boy.
“Not in our hands, but between our thighs
Is the lock and key that will bring us highs”
Then she gave him a look,
And allowed him to touch
Then she treated him to a taste
Which he loved very much
And his years of being chaste
Appeared to be coming to an end
As she guided his cock into her cunt
And softly whispered, “I like you more than a friend.”

Belle’s Bell
Belle’s bell is rung with dick and tongue
When on the clit it plays
But when alone there’s still a tone
For Belle has found other ways
Without dick or tongue her bell is still rung
When each musical finger strays

New Girl
My new girl is not from this planet
Her twat muscles are as strong as granite
The tight restriction
Causes fiery friction
That gets smoking hot to trot when you fan it

Massage
The closest thing to a magic love potion
Is a full-body erotic massage with lotion
You knead it like dough
Arousal ebbs and flows
And climax comes in waves like the ocean