The Cycle of Life

I guess I should be happy, or grateful, or relieved. And, I suppose, I am all those things. I find lately, I'm horny again. Thinking about sex again. A lot. At work. Thinking about sex at work. I don't mean having sex at work...you know what I mean. But, that's not the point. The point is that it's back, I guess. With less of a vengeance, but back.

The problem is that I don't want random sex with a stranger. Well, not really. I mean, if the right stranger came along, I would fuck him for sure. But, I want more. I want a partner. I want a master. Of sorts. I'm always a bit ambivalent about the whole master/slave whatever thing. But, I want that power. That power over me.

I've been dating a little. No-one particularly particular yet. But, you never know who's around the corner. Or so I keep telling myself. I've been praying for miracles. I just have to be smart enough to recognize one when it's in my face. That's the challenge. My own ability to be intelligent enough to see what's being presented to me.

All that aside, I want it.

I want my hair, which is quite long now, to be wrapped up in his fist. I want him to pull my head back and push his cock into my mouth. I want him to tell me, as I kneel before him, helpless to his force, to spread my legs, to touch myself as he fucks my mouth. I want to hear him groan with satisfaction as I do.

I want to be on my hands and knees on the bed while, behind me, he spreads me apart and examines me. My cunt wet and swollen. Dripping from his words as he tells me what a whore I am for showing myself to him in this way. As I push back a little farther, knowing this spreads me apart even more.

I haven't thought of these things in months and now these fantasies fill my head. I can hear in my mind the sound of his hand smacking my bottom red and sore and his derisive laugh as he plunges fingers into me and finds I'm so wet the two or three fingers he uses are not enough to create any friction.

I want it, now. I want it, again. I need a miracle.