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Her secret

art-by-marcos-beccari

It is her secret.

It always has been

Ever since she can remember. The longing. The desire. The ache.

A deep sexual yearning to lose control. To abandon her free will to the pleasure of another.
And in doing so find her own glorious, magical, delicious release.

Sometimes, in her private moments and when she allows herself, she has the scenarios in her head. Scripted and endlessly rehearsed, she plays them in a bold, burning, breathtaking loop. Fantasies and fetishes that leave her wasted and wet as she allows them to wash and lap over her.

Other times it is a jumble of words and images, of instruction and discipline, obedience and compliance.
Of being watched.

Of her body being used and pleasured. Stroked and caressed, kissed and pinched, slapped and whipped, licked and scratched, nibbled and teased.
And of being restrained.

And of fingers, and lips, and toy after toy. And his tongue and his cock. All used expertly, creatively, unrelentingly,

She has told no one

Until now.

Until him.

It is their secret

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I wrote this five years ago. And I thought ‘why not post (yet) again for those who were not reading me then?’ I hope regulars can excuse the indulgence.

 
7 Comments

Posted by on December 7, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Her secret

art-by-marcos-beccari

It is her secret.

It always has been

Ever since she can remember. The longing. The desire. The ache.

A deep sexual yearning to lose control. To abandon her free will to the pleasure of another.
And in doing so find her own glorious, magical, delicious release.

Sometimes, in her private moments and when she allows herself, she has the scenarios in her head. Scripted and endlessly rehearsed, she plays them in a bold, burning, breathtaking loop. Fantasies and fetishes that leave her wasted and wet as she allows them to wash and lap over her.

Other times it is a jumble of words and images, of instruction and discipline, obedience and compliance.
Of being watched.

Of her body being used and pleasured. Stroked and caressed, kissed and pinched, slapped and whipped, licked and scratched, nibbled and teased.
And of being restrained.

And of fingers, and lips, and toy after toy. And his tongue and his cock. All used expertly, creatively, unrelentingly,

She has told no one

Until now.

Until him.

It is their secret

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I wrote this four years ago. And I thought ‘why not post (yet) again for those who were not reading me then?’ I hope regulars can excuse the indulgence.

 

 
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Posted by on December 7, 2018 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Her Secret

art-by-marcos-beccari

It is her secret.

It always has been

Ever since she can remember. The longing. The desire. The ache.

A deep sexual yearning to lose control. To abandon her free will to the pleasure of another.
And in doing so find her own glorious, magical, delicious release.

Sometimes, in her private moments and when she allows herself, she has the scenarios in her head. Scripted and endlessly rehearsed, she plays them in a bold, burning, breathtaking loop. Fantasies and fetishes that leave her wasted and wet as she allows them to wash and lap over her.

Other times it is a jumble of words and images, of instruction and discipline, obedience and compliance.
Of being watched.

Of her body being used and pleasured. Stroked and caressed, kissed and pinched, slapped and whipped, licked and scratched, nibbled and teased.
And of being restrained.

And of fingers, and lips, and toy after toy. And his tongue and his cock. All used expertly, creatively, unrelentingly,

She has told no one

Until now.

Until him.

It is their secret

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I wrote this three years ago. And I thought ‘why not post (yet) again for those who were not reading me then?’ I hope regulars can excuse the indulgence.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 30, 2017 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Her secret

 

He is her secret

she swallows

the thought of him

and feels the tug

inside

the constant

hungry presence

between her thighs

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Posted this time last year, but I like it.

Art by William Oxer

 
2 Comments

Posted by on September 11, 2017 in Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Her Secret

 

 

 

art-by-marcos-beccari

It is her secret.

It always has been

Ever since she can remember. The longing. The desire. The ache.

A deep sexual yearning to lose control. To abandon her free will to the pleasure of another.
And in doing so find her own glorious, magical, delicious release.

Sometimes, in her private moments and when she allows herself, she has the scenarios in her head. Scripted and endlessly rehearsed, she plays them in a bold, burning, breathtaking loop. Fantasies and fetishes that leave her wasted and wet as she allows them to wash and lap over her.

Other times it is a jumble of words and images, of instruction and discipline, obedience and compliance.
Of being watched.

Of her body being used and pleasured. Stroked and caressed, kissed and pinched, slapped and whipped, licked and scratched, nibbled and teased.
And of being restrained.

And of fingers, and lips, and toy after toy. And his tongue and his cock. All used expertly, creatively, unrelentingly,

She has told no one

Until now.

Until him.

It is their secret

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I wrote this two years ago. And I thought ‘why not post again for those who were not reading me then?’ I hope regulars can excuse the indulgence.

 
16 Comments

Posted by on November 28, 2016 in D/s, Erotica, Still Life

 

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Her secret

Art by William Oxer

He is her secret

she swallows

the thought of him

and feels the tug

inside

the constant

hungry presence

between her thighs

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer

 
11 Comments

Posted by on September 10, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Her secret

Epiphany by Henry Asencio

It is her secret.

It always has been

Ever since she can remember. The longing. The desire. The ache.

A deep sexual yearning to lose control. To abandon her free will to the pleasure of another.
And in doing so find her own glorious, magical, delicious release.

Sometimes, in her private moments and when she allows herself, she has the scenarios in her head. Scripted and endlessly rehearsed, she plays them in a bold, burning, breathtaking loop. Fantasies and fetishes that leave her wasted and wet as she allows them to wash and lap over her.

Other times it is a jumble of words and images, of instruction and discipline, obedience and compliance.
Of being watched.

Of her body being used and pleasured. Stroked and caressed, kissed and pinched, slapped and whipped, licked and scratched, nibbled and teased.
And of being restrained.

And of fingers, and lips, and toy after toy. And his tongue and his cock. All used expertly, creatively, unrelentingly,

She has told no one

Until now.

Until him.

It is their secret

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Henry Asencio

 
25 Comments

Posted by on December 3, 2014 in D/s, Erotica

 

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