What do you fantasize about when fucking?

I don’t. While I’m ‘there’ in the heat of lust I’m not thinking about someone else or doing something else I’m focused on my body, their body. Scent is a huge turn on, the raw man smell, skin, sweat. I’m immersed in the sensations of fucking. A sensation slut in the purest of form. I’m listening to their moans, their voice, my own noises. The electricity, the heat. I don’t want to take myself away from the moment thinking about another person or somewhere else, for me it would take away from the experience. I want to ‘feel’.

Do I fantasize? Yes. This is where my muse sleeps until I rouse him.

Randomly, during the day, on the train, at home, anywhere. It appears in the back of my mind and forms a scene and my mind will run wild. Normally creating a heat deep below. An urgency that needs sating. I won’t always succumb to it, instead relishing the sensations that coarse through my body, that exquisite sense of need and I deny it. Words always turn me on. I love it when my muse appears and words carry me off into the unknown and my fingers flow. Slow, languid pleasure, drowning in sensation is what turns me on. Pain, tormenting my mind, teasing me. I enjoy the ride. Even more when it’s not me in control. I fantasize about being taken roughly, the urgency when my body is pressed against another and teeth graze my skin. Tearing off clothes, pushing me against a wall and doing what you please. And even if I fight you off, taking whats yours. I fantasize about being bound, unable to move, unable to do anything but be an available whore for your taking. Whispers in my ear in that husky yet calm voice. I fantasize about my sadist, my muse that comes to me at odd hours and beckons me down into the dark. That’s what gets me off. My muse and I are one, the need for him is an addiction. He helps me sleep at night and when the nightscapes come he is there waiting to take my hand and wander into the dark, to grant my wishes. When he demands my attention I write.

With him I am not lonely. With him I find peace. He keeps me company as long as I need him.

I want you to do it.

Tear me to pieces me from the inside out. Leave me in a crumpled mess heaving and sobbing.

Stand over me and watch me fall to pieces then rebuild me.

See the sweat trailing off my skin, add your own.

Rampant unfetterd lust. Take it all, feed off me as I will do you.

Synergy.

Your need is as great as mine, hurt me I need to feel.

I need to see it in your eyes. I want to see your sadist.

I crave the energy that coaxes my beast out from her shell.

Tease her with your blows. Make her bare her teeth and snarl.

The growls feed you, the wild look in my eye will feed your beast.

Control. It’s what you need.

Take it.

Watch my beast lay at your feet.

Bloody and spent.

She will be yours for the taking.

That look, the eyes
Focused, intent
Her the instrument
A concerto
She, the violin
You, the bow
The storm outside,
the orchestra.

Darkness wells
Engulfing
Muscles tense
The rage builds
A struggle for control

She is lost
The sting of the wind
Matches the crescendo building
Your hands playing her
Assaulting her body
Tears well
frustrations spent
Screaming crescendos
Still the storms rage

Through the darkness
You are there
Words settle
Eyes reach far inside
Soothing, comforting
Consoling, understanding
You rain down on her
Only to feel her slip away
Coaxing her back
Home to you
Her eyes calm
The storm has settled
Your eyes,
softened

The quiet patter of raindrops
Break the silence
She is engulfed in you
As you are her
Release