As Woman

If I was a grand architect of design.

If I was the master of texture, colour, shape, style and beauty.

If I could mould and fashion and forge personality, intelligence, sensitivity, sensuality, generosity and strength.

If I possessed the perfect, potent power of pure magic

If I was a wild-eyed cosmic genius with a boundless, endless, limitless imagination.

If my creativity dwarfed and humbled every artist, scientist, writer, sculptor and mathematician who had ever graced the planet.

Even if I had dominion over all things

I still could never create a creature

as unique

and as extraordinary

as Woman.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I first wrote and posted this a number of years ago – and as every year passes, I know it more. And adore.

 

Discovery

.

I did not discover you.

.

Before our eyes met

your existence was already remarkable,

your beauty already exquisite,

your body perfectly defined,

your clever mind full of wonders.

.

I did not discover you.

.

But I like to believe

I did discover

the sublime

sensual

secret

sexual submissive

within.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Marcos Beccari

 

Who can explain?

Who can explain

attraction

admiration

connection

appeal

fascination

infatuation

enchantment

desire

captivation

temptation

seduction

lust.

.

Who can explain

the magnetism

that draws me close?

Who can explain

any of it?

.

I just know

you turn me on.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Marcos Beccari

 

Compliment

When I say

just an everyday

glimpse of you

draws such dark

decadent

dirty

delicious

delightful

pictures

in my mind

it is definitely intended

as a compliment.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Marcos Beccari

 

Her secret

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/Faded Romantic

Art by Marcos Beccari

I wrote this seven 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.

 

As Woman

If I was a grand architect of design.

If I was the master of texture, colour, shape, style and beauty.

If I could mould and fashion and forge personality, intelligence, sensitivity, sensuality, generosity and strength.

If I possessed the perfect, potent power of pure magic

If I was a wild-eyed cosmic genius with a boundless, endless, limitless imagination.

If my creativity dwarfed and humbled every artist, scientist, writer, sculptor and mathematician who had ever graced the planet.

Even if I had dominion over all things

I still could never create a creature

as unique

and as extraordinary

as Woman.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I first wrote and posted this a number of years ago – and as every year passes, I know it more. And adore.

 

Discovery

.

I did not discover you.

.

Before our eyes met

your existence was already remarkable,

your beauty already exquisite,

your body perfectly defined,

your clever mind full of wonders.

.

I did not discover you.

.

But I like to believe

I did discover

the sublime

sensual

secret

sexual submissive

within.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Marcos Beccari

Not a brand new post. Yet probably true. Of you.

 

Who can explain?

Who can explain

attraction

admiration

connection

appeal

fascination

infatuation

enchantment

desire

captivation

temptation

seduction

lust.

Who can explain

the magnetism

that draws me close?

Who can explain

any of it?

I just know

you turn me on.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written four years ago. Who can explain attraction …?

Art by Marcos Beccari

 

Compliment

 

When I say

just an everyday

glimpse of you

draws such dark

decadent

dirty

delicious

delightful

pictures

in my mind

it is definitely intended

as a compliment.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

 

 

Her Secret

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 six 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.