When I say "I want you," it is not simply some carnal desire that I'm expressing. It is the need to lose myself in you, to let the sensation of your skin, your touch, your scent, your breath, your hands, your lips overwhelm me until it is like so much surf crashing against the shoreline of my being. The need to have my ears filled with nothing but white noise, a static buzz that roars and roars until I fall into it, lost, my eyes closed, dropping further and further into the feelings that you give me.
And all this is simply desire for you - it is what happens in my mind when we build it up, slow, tentative, getting tangled up in each other, unhurriedly uncovering each other with nothing particular in mind. For me, the journey is gorgeous, with many many possibilities, opportunities just waiting to be taken. I almost never make it to a destination, so I have stopped planning for it or expecting to get anywhere.
Perhaps you will at some point understand how elusive and transitory orgasm is for me. I can't even get myself off without needing an image in my head of something so lascivious, so filthy that it drives me over the edge. My mind is a maze full of leather and chains, soft words and hard smacks, humiliation and praise, delicate touch and pain, exposure and privacy, tenderness and sternness all coalescing into this whirlpool which I struggle to hide from the world, for I doubt that ordinary society could ever understand or accept the things that float my boat.
The point is: if you care to come, I'd love to let you in, show you around, let you play curator to the museum of oddities in my mind. It's almost all in the mind (it always is - much more than most people like to admit). The more you explore my mind, the better you'll know me. And the better you know me, the further you'll be able to push me. And I want you to push me. I want you to want to push me.
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