You can only take so much rain under canvas...travelled back the 350 miles or so today...a few days early. The second wash is on, tumble dryer turning. I adore the comforting smell of beautiful washing. Clean. So clean.
I miss him. FF. So silent... it really irritates me that he consumes so much of me, yet he feels so wholesome and so soothing as he has so much honesty and so much I wish to have; I wish to embrace. Perhaps..too much from me to him. Who knows. He is adorable when we talk, when he has the patience to listen and when he shows the lovely kindness in his wisdom. I smother myself in everything to numb any pain and any emptiness I feel.
IP fills my dark yearnings for now and I bathe in the sluttish waters he evokes. I feel excited and aroused by his fantasy, which actually is not...as he will take me as his captive; binding me as soon as pleasantries are over. The woods have been chosen; the scenario agreed.
Ripping my clothes, quite literally, as I am tied to a tree he will make me beg...again...for him to fuck me. But he will will spank me first, knowing how sexually heightened I will be.
And I will.
Beg.
Over and over.
I want that.
I want to feel possessed.
I want to feel the power and desire of a man who wishes to try and control me...my formidable nature at times really makes this so difficult as I intimidate so many without ever knowing.
I'm still so flippant with him and so slight with my contact... I know that fills him with a type of confusion. It makes the orgasmic fight so satisfying.
Yet...France has been in touch every day and every night...and I have a sense he is falling in love with me...strange as we have never met. He calls me his darling, his angel ...he wants so much and believe it or not, that is more dangerous ground than the raw, lustful, dirty fucking of IP...I must tread carefully.
Therefore it is a challenge I yearn for.
