I read a story once that spoke of shame as a sexual spice…that embarrassment or humiliation spice up sex for some. It is so for me. We have agreed that I am his sexual slave…that I am his domestic slave too for that matter, but I digress. I was speaking of sexual spice. I chose of my own free will to be his to use when he wishes sexual satisfaction. That I can suckle his cock…slide my hands over his hardness…ride him while he lays waiting for me to bring him to climax…this is a joy. It is an honor to be the one he turns to for intimacy. It is a joy to share his pleasure. I love to be the one who is the receptacle of his desire. I like to be his cunt.
I love to be his cunt.
I like that there are two ways he fucks me…the way he does when he makes love to me…when he wants me to cum joyfully and over and over…and the way he fucks me when he cares just for his orgasm. I like it when he uses me. I like it when he rams his cock in me without thought to my pleasure…though it makes me cum when he does this. My arousal increases his. My orgasms…the tight clenching of His cunt makes it better for him. Much better.
My whole life I have desired to be the object of desire for men. I used to fantasize that they lined up to fuck me because I was so desirable. I’d imagine a line of men each and every one of them rock hard for me. In my mind’s eye one after another, they knelt between my legs, drove their cocks into me until they came…and then got in line again. I don’t remember how old I was when I first had that fantasy. I remember cuming again and again thinking of this line of cocks and being fucked over and over again, laying there in a puddle of cum.
I have fantasized my whole life about being paid for sex…that after I am paid and then I spread my legs for fucking…to be used like this has always seemed a good way to make a living. Who wouldn’t want to fuck and get paid for it…? Who wouldn’t want to cum for money? It got me off as a girl to think of earning money doing something I adore. It still gets me off. It gets me off a lot!
This is what my libido loves. It is the spice of my sexuality.
But it bruises my heart to not matter to the man who fucks me.
I need my heart and my sexuality to fit together in ways that make me feel wonderful about myself.
So…I choose consensual sexual slavery. I am used every single day.
By a man I love and who loves me.
I love that he’ll order me to suck his cock…that he’ll order me to jerk him off…that he’ll push me over and fuck me. Whenever he wants. It is my role to empty his cock each day. I love to do this for him. I love waking in the morning smelling of his spunk and feeling him slide into me again for his morning fuck before work. Life is good…It is very, very good.