Sleepless Sundays
Sometimes I struggle to sleep….
Read moreSometimes I struggle to sleep….
Read moreI can breathe.
Read moreThe addictive elixir of submission.
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Why clothing is sexier than nudity; why lace is hotter than cotton; why fishnets appeal….
Read moreI torture myself.
Read moreInfantile wounds leave me vulnerable to the annihilating terror of ceasing to exist.
Read moreMy mother abandoned me….
Read moreWhen Marina behaves badly, I want to hurt her. Well, not hurt her. But I want her to suffer. And I don’t want to suffer. And, I want her to stop behaving badly. Marina – for all her virtues – consistently behaves badly, in one particular way.
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An inauspicious start to my owning Marina’s cunt for 48 hours.
Read moreFor me, sex is best tinged with a bit of sadness. Sadness provides an edge.
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