So I recently read through a journal of mine from when Eric was in Seattle (he went to “find himself” out on the West Coast for 3 years of our relationship) and it’s when I actually found the sex goddess within me. I thought I’d post some passages. 😉
The Ativan and Xanax makes me feel so relaxed and languorous and sensual and sexy and lustful and just calm yet still a bit hyper and talkative and enjoying other people’s company and just so lush and uninhibited. I want to tumble around in bed, with foreplay and sex, gentle and romantic sex and sensual pleasures being given and taken, in the heat of passion and lust and love. I want to go out and dance and get all dressed up and get a little tipsy or drunk to add to the fun. I want a sexual night with Eric. I just want to be devoured and lavished pleasure on and I want to have a sexy night out building up to the end point of making love. I feel a little bit spacey, but like a good spacey, and relaxed, fulfilled spacey, a satiated and satisfied and disoriented, giddy and energetic and stumbly.
I have become such a sexual deviant. I am always horny, always lustful, always wet. I crave sex, ache for it. I masturbate a lot but am actually dying for the real thing. I like to around with no panties on or with black panties on so I can see the evidence of my wetness. I like to just touch my wetness and smell it. I am so full of unbridled and pint up passion that I exude it. Jon was able to tell how badly I want to be fucked just by being around me . He said he could smell the pheromones and knew I must be in heat something fierce. I am craving that sexual connection with another person, but only someone I love and care about and trust and feel safe and comfortable with. I practically salivate when I see Eric’s cock. It drives me wild. I want to devour it and stroke it and ride it and just worship it in all it’s beauty. I love cock, especially his. it’s magnificent. God, I just want the physical, emotional, and spiritual connect and union sex brings.
I want to feel your skin against mine. I want to feel your warmth seeping into me. I want to feel your hardness pressed against me, knowing that it was me, all me and only me, who brought you to the point of such intense arousal and desire. I want to feel your tongue plundering my mouth, heatedly and insistently pulling me into you, not able to get enough of me to sate your burning need. I want to feel your fingers, your palms, your tongue, on my breasts, my nipples, teasing and nipping and pulling and kneading and fondling. I want to feel your fingers pressed inside of me, exploring me, pushing against me, within me, soaked in my own need and lust, bringing me to the brink and sending me over in waves of glorious ecstasy. I want to feel your breath ragged and heavy against my face, against my swollen lips, swollen by kisses and nibbling and biting and sucking. I want to taste your skin, your sweat, your seed. I want to feel your cock in my mouth, in my throat. I want to suckle on you until you explode, your hands tangled in my hair, moans escaping you involuntarily. I want to feel you push your throbbing cock into my wet, hot pussy, feeling you cum deep within me, feeling your finish fill my womb, completing me with your completion. I want you to love me, physically and emotionally and spiritually, all at once. I want to orgasm around you, I want you to taste me, and I want to taste you. I want all of you, body, heart, mind, and soul. I want you to be mine wholly and utterly and totally. I want to be your’s wholly and utterly and totally. I want to feel your semen inside of me, I want to feel your cock inside of me, I want to feel you inside of me. I want you to fill me with your presence, your essence, your soul. I want to share everything I am and ever will be with you, and I want you to share everything you are and ever will be with me.
I love it when he looks wild and rakish and burly. Sometimes I hate how powerfully attracted I am to him, especially with him being so far away. It literally takes my breath away, like I’ve been socked in the stomach. My belly flutters and I just get so fucking aroused. I love him when he’s clean cut too. Rawr! He turns me on like NOTHING else can. It’s ridiculous. He is so dangerously tempting. He has such power over me, to make me go wake and, hell, even crazy. My desire for him borders on obsession, toeing and even sometimes crossing that line. He has scorched my soul and branded me for life. God, I need Evan in a way I’ve never needed him before. I need him to fuck me, not just to satiate this raging intense consuming lust I feel, but to eradicate every bad memory I have regarding sex and life, to replace them with the power of his cock and cum and love, to imprint himself upon me permanently.
He’s so fucking beautiful. Those liquid eyes… God, when he’s sad, they are so amazing. When he shows emotions, they’re like pools I could just sink into and drown in forever. His tan skin is so smooth and beautiful and soft, his arms and body so toned and fit and muscular. But even muscular and fit, he’s still so comfortable. I feel so secure, so safe and supported, in his arms, so…right. His lips are so soft, so delicious, so succulent, so potent, so irresistible. The subtle changes in his breathing… His voice, his soft laugh, the way his breath brushes my cheeks, my skin, my hair… The feel of his facial hair… His gently probing tongue delicately dancing with mine… God, he’s so fucking amazing and sexy and gorgeous and beautiful. So fucking beautiful. He makes my heart ache so badly. I just want to hold him in my arms, feel his warmth next to me, press my body against him, bury my face in his neck, in his shoulder, nuzzle him and feel contented with him, with myself, with life. I want to slide my hands down his pants and fondle and stroke him while running my lips over every inch of his face, his chest, his arms, his neck, his stomach, his back… I want to kiss his eyelids so gently he’ll wonder if I’ve even touched them at all until I flick my tongue delicately over them. I want to feel him harden under my touch and feel his hardness against me. I want to hear those changes in his breathing as he becomes more and more aroused. I want to feel him press himself into me as he gets closer and closer, running his hands over my body, pressing his fingers into my wet depth, moaning against his skin, our combined gasps and hard breathing mingling to mist each others’ heated flesh. I want to feel his orgasm in me, filling me to my core. I want to cry out as I cum around him, contracting around him convulsively and causing him to cum more. I want to fill/feel his warmth flooding my womb, I want him to fulfill me in the most basic, primal way, to satiate this raging lust love I have for him, if only momentarily, as it’s a hunger and thirst for him, for all of him, body and mind and soul, that will consume me in all my entirety for eternity. I want to taste him, taste him and of him. I want to devour him and take all of him into my mouth. I want to taste his cum, his cock, his skin. I want to feel him inside of me, sliding down my throat, pressing against my cheeks, my teeth, my tongue, running his head along the ridges on the top of my mouth. I want him to tangle his hands , his fingers, in my hair and pull me down on him, pushing himself deeper into me. I feel like there’s a blackhole in my chest, sucking everything internally inside of me into oblivion. I ache so badly for him. I want him so badly. I need him so badly. I want to hold him when he cries, celebrate his triumphs with him, support him through whatever comes his way, love him regardless of it all, be there with him through it all. I want to show him that he never has to be alone ever again. I feel so intensely, so deeply, for him and it fucking consumes me. I love Eric David R***** with my entire soul, my entire being.
Eric and I go so well together. We compliment each other. We’re like a fine, vintage wine paired perfectly with a sumptuous meal: decadent and indulgent, sinful and succulent, orgasmic, bringing out flavors both subtle and rich and overpowering, the perfect blend. It overwhelms you with a deep, intense pleasure and satisfaction and fulfillment that you never dreamed was possible, satiating a hunger, a thirst, an empty place in your and that moves you and changes you, that you never imagined you could have. We fulfill each other completely; our needs, our desires, our cravings, in ways no one else could ever possibly come close to doing. He is my match, in every way. I love him with a fierce, possessive, crazed, intense, consuming passion. I want him all for myself, all the time. I want to be his number one priority, his reason d’etre, what he lives and breathes for.
When I said before that I was a sexual deviant, I wasn’t playing. I’ve just become so sexual. I love touching myself, fondling myself. I love grabbing and squeezing and rubbing and scratching and pressing my fingers and hands deep into my flesh and gently running my fingertips along my skin and tangling my hands in my hair, the hair on ALL the parts of my body. I love sucking my fingers and licking my own juices and tastes. I love gagging on my dilators, though I enjoy it more when it’s a cock I’m gagging on. I adore Eric’s cock so much. I worship it and crave it, like an addiction. He’s so fucking beautiful, all of him. I love making dirty, sexy videos. I play to the camera and get much more aroused knowing I’m being taped or watched. The idea of having my own website where I post naked pictures and sex videos of myself is appealing to me, as is the idea of being a peep show girl or pole dancer. I love knowing people find me attractive and want me sexually. It makes me feel so sexy. But Eric would never let me do that, he’s quite jealous and possessive, but I like it that way. I want him to want me, to need me, to own me and mark me and show the world whose dirty little whore I am, whose willing sex slave, whose kinky slut, whose devoted and absolutely enslaved lover, I am.
Sex and the Holy City 
Good question, Mary.