I want to say I love you and I miss you. I think you should know just how I miss you…
I miss you because we fit together so well. In so many ways too. My head fits in the cradle of your chest perfectly. It fits just beneath your chin too. That certainly makes the girl in me happy…to fit in Daddy’s arms so well. I love to be held against your heart. There’s little better…except maybe being held as I sleep. I feel so safe and so loved when you do that….oh and I think about being rocked by you alot. I would love that.
You always say my juicy place was made to fit you perfectly too. “Just like a glove for my cock”, you’ll say. It feels so smooth when you are in me. You are rough with me sometimes using your cock. I adore that! Even when you pound me so I have bruises, your cock feels smooth in my juiciness. I love to be bruised and sore, but you never leave me chaffed. It makes me want more. I do love cumming for Daddy.
My tiny hand fits yours perfectly too. Some men make my fingers ache because their hands are so big it hurts to hold hands for long. Other men make me feel like I’m holding a woman’s hand. I love to hold a woman’s hand…but when I want a man’s hand to guide me, I want to feel it’s held by a man; bigger, stronger, tougher. Your hands feel like steel bands when you want them to.
Your fingers clamped on my nipples is a perfect example of that. What sweet agony that is. It feels like a white light burning in my head. Sometimes when you feel particularly sadistic, my head explodes with that light and I can hardly breathe. Just when I think my knees are going to give out from the pain spreading through my body, you’ll let go, dragging your teeth across my skin gently. Makes my whole body shudder in orgasm when you let me go. It seems like the harder you squeeze, the harder I cum when you finally let go. I can tell you love that.
I love when those strong hands are in my hair and cupping my head protectively. I love when you tip my head to bare my throat. It makes me feel so vulnerable. It makes me feel like you’ve opened me up…throat, heart, glove…That I’m yours in every way. I can hardly keep still I’m so aroused and then you put your teeth on my throat and nibble your way toward my ear or my nipple or you plunder my mouth. Somehow I feel like there’s a spear going up inside me when you do that. I feel staked open, impaled until you let me go. I am wonderfully captivated by that.
One time you took me by the hair as if it were a leash and led me to the bed. You pushed me to my back and spread me wide open…and well…I sure felt ravished then. You were forceful and left me marked. My skin was reddened and bruised. More than that, you left a mark on my heart and soul. Like claws leaving a brand on me. When you walk into a room now, my eyes are glued to you. You are like a compass that always points north. A touch stone. A home for my heart.
I miss you Daddy. I sure hope that some time soon you’ll come home.
© August 2010
I published this on a private blog and also on fetlife a long while ago. I think in the Stories group if a remember correctly.
It’s kinda juicy isn’t it? *smiles*
I have changed. This story line within this imaginary letter to a fictional man, no longer quite fits me. It fit me exactly when I wrote it. I have learned that my desire for Daddy is a mask for a longing for a wise, spiritual guide. I am finding that such longings have often been sexualized by me. These longings seem to be wrapped up in a package of a male body and the desire for that all knowing father figure I never had as a girl.
Today…now…what I long for is a wise spiritual teacher. I wish for and have a kind, dominant, attentive man as a companion. I have a compassionate and mature friend in a male body with whom I am erotic. I have an experience of submission that is both erotic and emotional.
I am not mixing the erotic friendship in with my desire for a wise spiritual teacher any more…and so that longing for a Daddy dominant has passed from me…and along with it has passed this complexity of neediness, attachment and unhealthy desire.
There is only fun and juiciness with a man I am friends with and the joys of serving him when we’ve a mind to share that.
There is only the desire for a teacher that is getting fulfilled.
I am so much more comfortable inside my own skin about all this finally. Phew…!