The Dark Prince Claims His Princess

Love is like a force of nature; once you're stuck in the hurricane, the best you can do is ride out the storm. If you try to fight against the wind and rain, it can result in being heavily plummeted by sheets of water, slapping you in the face, heavily. 
His love is a force that is as strong as the water cascading down from Niagara Falls; I keep trying to resist the pull into his love and even pretend it's not happening, but this just increases the gravitational force. He keeps pouring into me, even stronger still and I have given up fighting this ridiculously lovely force, a feeling so great I don't need to take ecstasy to feel like I'm floating in a drug induced MDMA bubble. I really don't have a choice at this point; he has fallen too hard into me and now my job is to ride the waves and surrender to the flow of the water. It really is less painful than to fight against this beautiful creature of a man. 
A sheer week has passed since that fateful night I licked the cum off of his stomach and his love infiltrated my entire being. We melded together in one night and the rest of our time together has been a graceful yet sometimes challenging unfoldment of our hearts' desires. We wrote in our book of love, spending night after night in love-making fantasies, each poetic gesture and word from his lips that would even make Rumi delight in his grave. 
"Oh Lo'ren," He would say my name in Hebrew, scream in orgasmic pleasure, stare deeply into my eyes while he addressed me as His Queen, His Princess.
I would always answer, "Yes my King," showing devotion and respect.
"Oh mi amor, mon tressure, mon cheri..." eventually he would just switch his sweet words to French, adoring me in every way that he could. 
After a week together of spending the nights in love-making fantasies, which would put most romance novels to shame, each poetic movement and gesture would even make Rumi delight in his grave, we returned back to a lovely night on Venice Beach. 
This was a particularly special evening, the moon was hanging low on the horizon, half full with an orange glow as rustic as the fall leaves. The Prince exclaimed with Joy that this was a Jewish holiday where they said a certain prayer and made intentions for the coming year, and that it was particularly auspicious to make these wishes at this time. We were pulled by the ocean's gravity and seduction by the night sky to intertwine our forces with nature and exclaim our new wishes to the Sea. We planted ourselves on the soft sand, always cuddled close and sweetly upon one another's laps and he says with sweet conviction his wish from the universe; for True Love and for a Successful Mindset; we all have the capability to hustle this world into great fame and fortune, and most only WISH for it and don't have what it takes to drive that vision into being. We usually fail out of lack of trying to really accomplish our dreams. 
My wish is similar, although he came into my life so suddenly; I was not expecting a lover in my life so i'm still in half denial that he's here. Fully. With a full open heart ready to completely love me with all his being, in loyalty and devotion. Quite the opposite from what i've experience from The Bunny in the past. So when it's here and its REAL it's very surprising and difficult to take in and accept. 
We said our wishes to the moon, and I just couldn't help myself but to place my head on his belly, our mortal coils laying upon the sand of the Mother.  I started to lick his beautiful cock right there, underneath the moon's orange embrace, his eyes on me, my eyes turned slightly towards the beautiful and rich light of La Luna filling our souls with magic. I didn't want to get too frisky down here as we should still go upstairs and finish the job....
Every time we made love in that first week he wold talk to me so sweetly and just PENETRATE me COMPLETELY with his gaze; his eyes the color of Turkish Coffee, and a beauty that sparkles beyond space and time. I have never locked eyes with a lover like him; I have never been shown such affection and love, continuously from his sweet heart. He screams Hebrew words as he comes with me this first week; screaming literally so all of the homeless people sleeping on the boardwalk can hear. I kind of chuckle knowing the crazy absurdity they must be thinking!  Every time my Prince comes it is a huge monumental explosion of his love... it is not a small feat; all time and space is lost, and he completely looses himself in the moment so he has no idea how loud he is SCREAMING when I make him come.
We make love, and before falling asleep, he tells me
"J'taime mi amor."
And the Prince has found his Princess.

The Dark Prince’s Arrival into My Heart

       He came in like a dark prince in twilight, riding into the village of my soul, bearing an open chest of great triumph. His heart open, body full of power, warmth in his eyes, every word that rolls off his beautiful luscious lips is sweet nectar to my psyche. He had a conquest that day, and made his offering to me; A boundless golden heart, a mind with limitless opportunity, him an open book for me to contribute chapters of scripture, scribed with my body on top of his.

I did not choose to start to read him delicately page by page; instead I shredded the book open, tore out the pages and did not think how to arrange them. 

We had never met before he showed up on my doorstep; we were only a FB Business connection, only words over the phone, and now I'm curled up in his arms in my bed and we are wrestling around, feeling the contours of one another's bodies. 

He's half Italian, half Egyptian, somehow all Jew, speaks English like an innocent enthusiastic child who has never been tainted by the world, nor never lost his wonder for the world. And when Hebrew words are uttered, it's a gorgeous vibration coming from his soul. His smile and eyes say the same thing; he is a pure unblemished version of his childhood self, and if I can be blunt, perfectly cut and chiseled, skin softer than silk... But his bodily form is just an outer reflection of his inner light. His eyes are big almonds, a musky electric hue of brown, eyelashes for days, and a relaxed and open demeanor.

We are two young lovers, wrapped in each others embrace and passion, I melt underneath his kisses and words, each utterance from his mouth a holy seduction into the core of my being.

He presents his body to me like a gift, and I unwrap it. He’s a romantic at heart, and takes great care in speaking to me softly, as my Prince now addresses me as his Princess.

We negotiate around the fact that I am still on my moon, and him being Jewish, he does not mix sex and blood. We work around the hindrance and he works me deeply and steadily with my favorite sex toy; fucking my pussy open by my pink toy to boundless pleasure, my moon time making my pleasure more luminescent and radiant; I feel like my orgasm is a shooting magical glitter burst of love inside of my body, moving me beyond time and space. I am completely satisfied, which still leaves us to his magical Sword, which is a perfect work of art unto of itself. His skin is liquid honey and I love putting his beautiful hard and full cock in my mouth, teasing the rim. He gets my wet toungue and mouth artfully, I give as an act of Devotional Love; bowing to his cock to his pleasure, to His Heart.

 I relish in it for quite some time until I work him up to a full explosion, his come like a Geyser in Yellowstone, shooting a celebration of pleasure from his perfect body. That magical unexplainable shimmer is his come, and I lick it up like a Vixen kitten licking up milk from my bowl; a humble reward, a pleasure I rarely enjoy so much. I lay my head on his belly and we bask in the glow of our new love; a language both him and I are fluent in, but we do not speak with words, but with explosions of passion inside our bodies.

We sleep close to one another, his embrace so delicate and safe, something again so rare to find. We awake to more rough crazy passion, this time him finding himself inside of my ass; going in so slow into my most delicate place SOOOOO slowly, until it is all the way in and I relax around it. Then he can go to town, screaming Hebrew obscenities, pounding me like he’s an Olympian fucker, me taking it in so sweetly, completely out of breath from pleasure I can’t even speak.

He obliterates me in the best way, Creating so much contraction inside of me, I am a puddle of liquid love.

We reconvene in my bed after breakfast for round two; completely eating each other as if our bodies were the feast; the most passionate kisses, uniting in our embrace. My entire self opens to his passionate glory. He fucks me into God.

And we say good-bye like new lovers do; kissing over and over again, not letting each other go, each kiss draws us in slowly, and it takes him another hour to just get out the door.

*****

We still hadn’t made LOVE though, he still hadn’t been inside of my humble pussy, as he likes to call her. We wait a couple of days until he can come over next; he teaches me naughty Hebrew to practice so when he comes back he can be aroused by my words;

“Tizzayanoti ashrav”

“Tizzayanoti bavakasha”

Words that invite him into my body, “will you fuck me?” a loose translation and whenever I want to get him hard I just say those words. If he’s already inside of me and I say them and he explodes in come, again screaming at the top of his lungs with his orgasm. Everything about him was built for love, his soft words, his soft tongue, his immaculate cock.  

We have video of all of our love-making; he just sent me the video from our very first time of him being in my pussy; our legs intertwined, the tender love is translated through the film. You can hear our voices speaking to one another, and he calls me his Princess as I moan in delight from him penetrating me. 

No one has set me on utter fire like he has… a heart burning open so wide in our love, something so tender and sweet.

He leaves me with the words, “I fuck you better than when I fucked my wife.”

A Burning Flame of Endless Devotion... Esteban Continued After 18 months Apart.

Mexico

Thursday

I exit the airplane and go through a hot, sweaty, and slow customs line at the airport in Cancun. All I can think about is that my love is on the other side of the gate waiting for me, probably for hours. That is Esteban’s style; he would do anything for his woman and he would never be late.

Finally I get through all of prerequisites of entering another country and go outside with my two large pink suitcases and a stuffed backpack to find my Costa Rican boyfriend whom I haven’t seen in 18 months, waiting for me with a smiling face. We hug, but do not kiss. I found that odd, but I’m rolling with the energy that is present between us after so much time apart. The last time we said good-bye to each other was in Costa Rica in September of 2011, with tears in our eyes and a bond in our hearts.

He makes fun of me as to why I have so many “packets” as he told me only to bring one. Somehow packing I knew I didn‘t need all of these clothes, but I haven’t learned how to make decisions on what not to bring yet when I’m traveling, so I take everything with me.

We wait outside of the Cancun airport together and decide whether or not to head to the festival, which is another three hours of travel and we don’t have a room to stay in once we arrive there. So we opt to take a bus into Cancun proper and stay in a hotel there. We check into a mid grade hotel, which is scarcely dressed with shitty walls, shitty beds and barely any hot water for a shower. Last time we met up in Costa Rica we had uncontrollable chemistry for each other, and almost devoured each other once we were alone. The chemistry seemed to have left us, and we tried to have sex anyways, perhaps out of obligation for one another. It felt dry and empty.  We are grinding against each other and the only heat we feel from one another is from the friction. He doesn’t come, as he holds in his orgasmic energy with me for as long as possible. We burst through some energy with one another, as we feel relaxed and blissful, but somehow I am not feeling the love from the heart between us. I’m worried about what this means for us, if our love is over, if I need to separate from him and travel alone. WE both have planes that leave from Cancun on January 5^th, so that gives us 17 more days together feeling this way? I don’t know what to do but to pray for a solution between us.

Saturday

Esteban sets up the tent and makes a nice spot for me to sleep. He always treats me well despite what is going on around us.

We go out and dance at the big festival that was going on in Chichen Itza for the “World’s End”, also called Synthesis on Saturday night together, and ingest some magic chocolates from my friend. They hit us strong and deep and act as a truth serum between us. After an hour or two, I become distant, knowing that I can no longer make love to this man and maybe I have to depart Mexico early because I don’t think I can travel with him when my heart is no longer invested in him. He pulls me aside,

“Can I talk to you?”

“Yes”, I reply, feeling as though I am in trouble now.

He tells me how he is feeling, that he can sense my distance, that I am cold towards him, that he feels stupid sometimes when he speaks with me because our conversations are boring because of the language barriers. We can’t always express complex ideas, and are somewhat limited in what we say to one another. But one thing I’ve always appreciated about our connection is what he says without words. He shows his love and devotion through his endless service to his Queen. He would do anything to please me, even disappear from my existence if that’s what pleases me.

We talk for a long time and he gets a chance to express his feelings. He thinks there is something he can “do” to repair my feelings for him. But a feeling is a feeling and you have it because you have it, it cannot be manufactured I explain to him. I tell him I’m not in love with him anymore, that the chemistry is gone, that my heart is confused (see previous stories) and that I am still processing a break-up. In this moment I am breaking his heart and he doesn’t understand where my words are coming from, or how to repair our bond. For now it is broken. We separate ways for the rest of the night, I leave him shivering in the cold with my blanket, stunned and confused and high.

I go on with my night, feeling nothing, and puzzled why I can’t feel when my last partnership made me feel so much. This numbness does not make sense to me.

Esteban finds me in the party at sunrise and we take a taxi back to our hotel. Instead of pushing me away, he pulls me closer to his heart. He finds me a nice bed instead of making me camp on the ground with him. He tucks me into a massage table, makes my bed for me, tucks me in and brings me water and hot tea. This is the man I fell in love with; so attentive, so giving, so loving. I fall asleep warm and content, peaceful and with a chord attached to his heart. He won me over with his endless service and maybe this is how he is going to win me back.

I party all the next night without him, exploring my options, playing the field. I meet another tall, built man by the name of Lincoln who takes me under his wing for the evening. At first glance I am unimpressed by his advances, as he is silly and awkward at first. But genuine presence goes a long way with me and we play throughout the night, eventually cuddling up together in the peaceful campgrounds of the Synthesis festival, on the Earth in his tiny tent barely large enough to fit his body, and we sink into the rhythms of the earth together. I express to him that I don’t want to be sexual, as my body was in a deep meditation and was taking so much pleasure in complete stillness. Then our Shakti began to merge as he put his hand on my heart and pushed his energy into me. We began a beautiful spiral dance….this is how to open me; first energetically, then I am more bound to open with you physically.

Hours pass by in our snuggle, and I begin to like this new bond. Eventually we make our way back into town together, and I find Esteban sitting peacefully in front of the hotel in a white tea shirt, which accentuates his gorgeous dark skin and mysterious eyes, and he’s listening to his headphones. His eyes surrender to mine, they are slightly sad and empty, and I try to cheer him up with my love. I sit on top of him and I don’t move until we have resolution. He tells me that in order to make me happy that he should leave tomorrow. He would sacrifice anything for my happiness, and the thought of him leaving so soon, of our partnership ending now, maybe forever, put tears in my eyes. Perhaps he understood my woes. After a few moments of crying and hugging, we walk back to our tent. Each step we take I start to cry more, my emotions intensify, and I yearn for his heart to open mine. Perhaps this is when I finally broke back open to him. He climbs in the tent, and his eyes invite me inside, and I dive in on top of him. We cannot hold each other close enough, rolling around in our tears, our love, our passion. Something happens, and our emotion overcomes us and our bodies begin to intertwine and fill with love again. He kisses me, with passion this time, with full presence, like it really mattered, and his cock began to fill with blood and press against my flesh. His mouth finds my tender and yearning nipples and bites and licks them like a fresh strawberry. I want him. And he wants me, but our bodies are so dirty from partying all night. I want him in the shower, like how we used to do in Costa Rica together. We always had the most passionate sex in the shower together. I tell him to come wash my sinful skin with his heavenly hands, like he did on the first day we met, after our first swim in the ocean together. He follows me to the camp showers, we close the door, and he just watches me for a while with his throbbing cock. I invite him in closer and he presses firmly into me. After playing around at the thought of entering me, he charges through, and fills me with his invisible nectar. The feeling is unexplainable. It’s difficult to remember how certain lovers feel. And him and I have a certain fire, a certain burning, yet dripping flame for one another when we make love. He gives is to me long and hard, deep and strong, I’m silently screaming, my face pushed against the tile of the shower, for I cannot let out a real scream for the entire camping area to hear. He brings himself to the edge several times, and holds  it in every time, sealing his nectar for the next round of lovemaking.

Our love has been restored, he was able to find that sweet tender place in his heart where his desire is to endlessly serve me. This sweetness and self-sacrifice warmed me so that I opened back into him, and let his throbbing heat penetrate me to the core of my desire. For now we are lovers, back in paradise, in the warm winds of Mexico!

My Persian Slave Boy Love Affair, Continued....

April 26th, 2013

More and more days go by, and on the 6^th night of my Slave Boy having no release, he sleeps next to me, locked, in my bed…I was thinking that I would let him get off that night, but instead he just pleasured my pussy with his mouth, giving me a Euphoric writhing release. There’s something special about him, his dark skin, innocent yet deep eyes, and mischievous smile that kills me every time. He glows in his adoration of me and is genuine in his service. Nothing pleases me more, and nothing is more repulsive than a completely selfish submissive. I have found the right one for me; a relationship that is easy, flows, and most importantly a Slave I am attracted to and can please my desires. I adore him, his humor, his deep voice, his Iranian Coyote accent, the way he goes out to his car and comes back into my apartment in a new suit, glowing always in his eyes just to see me.

I tell him my fantasy that night before going to bed; that if I’m going to take his orgasm, for the first time since he's been locked in chastity, then I am going to have it by riding his cock. This was a huge step for me, in admitting that I WANTED him; all of him. He lays limp beside me, his feelings of submission so intense that his body is no longer his own; he is locked in a constant state of desire, a desire so piercing, that the slightest touch from me sets a fire inside of him. 

We awaken in the morning, his cock bulging out of his chastity device, his voice begging me to unlock him. I enjoy taking the cage off slowly, as to torment him more, and creating a sweet release once it's off. I torture him, slap his hard cock, and spit on it, his mouth; his dark eyes roll back in his head; he is completely mine. His tongue finds my yearning pussy, and pleasures me for quite some time, I am a puddle of water, dripping for his cock. It is time for me to merge with my Slave, to take him, my prey, completely for my pleasure. This is always how I do it from then on out. Just to ad an extra element of submission I cuff him to the bed, so that when he feels the natural urge to turn me over and be on top he can't; he must stay on the bottom. 

The feeling of him is something I will never forget; his cock the perfect size of fullness, but not too hard as to be like ice; he is a warm fire inside of me, and I have mini explosions before an entire volcano of energy explodes from the depths of my being. He makes me cum harder than I ever have before, a dripping wet explosion, my body can hardly contain the pleasure. 

We lay in bed for hours that day, him sprawled across my bed, one armed tied down in restraint, his body an empty vessel of clay. My Coyote lays his head down to rest; I have extended the erotic build up for 6 days, and he finally gets his release. We are happy and complete for now; like two young lovers without a care in the world. 

SUNDAY APRIL 28^th

I’m working across town in Hollywood at my friend’s studio apartment. But I hate time away from my slave boy, who’s face lights up whenever he sees me, who tells me he worships the ground that I step on, who would rather lick the bottoms of my feet than have an orgasm (another bluff I’ve called) but who will undeniably melt once he’s in my presence.

His life is falling apart; his Porche Cayenne barely driveable and he has to borrow his friend’s car to drive across town to see me. It's only been two days since he hasn't had an orgasm, but he is already weak and begging at my feet to come. I’m needing a serious work break, so I invite him into my presence. After coming inside and resting his head on my lap like a small pup I pet him, and as I sit in a chair overlooking the Hollywood hills on this perfect Spring evening, he kisses me, his body pressed up against mine, and the rush overflows my body; a kinetic connection, my heart open wide; I am in Euphoria. I moan, vibrate, drunk on his admiration and devotion. I want him, and I want him now.

Like two giddy lovers, I take his hand and lead him to the parking lot to his friend’s new mercededes with beige leather seats which still have that new car smell. Slave boy, still in Chastity to me, locked up for two days is yearning to get out. The only way I can have satisfaction from his cock is to release him. But I would never let him out without teasing him first.

Whining, moaning, he opens his mouth and starts talking, making offers he can’t keep.

“Oh Mistress if you gave me the choice to give you an Orgasm, or have one, which one do you think I would choose.?”

“I don’t know darling, why don’t you choose…have an orgasm or give me one.”

“Oh Mistress, I would do anything for you, I would trade my Orgasm for yours…Maybe you’ll keep me locked up in this thing for 6 months!” Lengthening his time in Chastity keeps this Slave Boy very excited. I don’t think I would want to deal with his absolute inability to function if I kept him in chastity for 6 months. He would become a crying infant. I still adore his personality and must restore it every once in a while. Perhaps I’m too compassionate of a Domme.

I allow him to play this game of pleasing me, and slowly I unlock him. By the time I pull the casing off his dick, he is fully erect, bulging out of it. I tease him some more with my hand lightly caressing his smooth and glorious member, and he trembles, shakes and begs to lick my pussy. I’m getting so hot, and enjoy the tease as well. He climbs over the seat and squeezes into what small space he has in front of my lap. I enjoy the awkwardness is on his part, and he must once again sacrifice his comfort for my pleasure. We kiss like lovers, our saliva spiraling around our tongues, I want to suck him into my being entirely; isn’t that when love making is the best; when you want to inhale your lover?

Slave Boy proceeds to please me with his tongue, making my pussy so juicy, red, and enlarged, I feel all my blood rushing to my sweet spot. Nothing is better in my mind then when the very landscape, the canvas of your art morphs before your very eyes; my pussy, his object of adoration becomes of masterpiece composition of pulsating pleasure, an orgiastic Van Gough inside of me. My every fiber responds to every nuance of his desperate tongue pleasing me while I call him my little bitch.  I have to enjoy a little humiliation every once in awhile.

Now I need his cock; he’s not completely well-trained yet, still driven by his desire, and I must break him in more for he tries to stick his dick in me too soon. I proceed to make him back off and tease me with the tip; just gliding around my wet juices, surfing the surface, not able to dive in. I almost come over and over again but I don’t I want to build it, up, make my pussy literally pull him inside of me.

I indulge in our little fantasy of him just being there for my pleasure; he rides me, our bodies swirling together, melding into one, until…. That pinnacle moment when I absolutely explode from all of his pent up frustration channeled into me; so much more potent than a “regular” interaction. I do not allow him the same luxury of sweet release.

We finish our love dance, and remininsce in the car for 30 more minutes, just talking, being silly, holding hands, cuddling as much as we can in a car. He has to go, even though he wants to sleep next to me, on the floor even, anything to be close to me.

“Mistress, would you please leave your shoes outside your door so that I can worship them?”

I’m delighted by the fact of him sneaking by the apartment door and bowing down just to worship my shoes.

I comply with my slave’s request and I tell him not to touch his cock. I’m leaving him unlocked for the night, and want to test his ability of self control.

I fall asleep in my friend's bed, and apparently Coyote slept in the parking lot in his friend's car. 

“Good morning Mistress…. I love watching you scream in pleasure….hope you’re having a lovely day…

Ok fair enough but here comes the confession from my weak Slave boy.

“BTW u left the lock shut but You have the key my Goddess that means I can not be locked up, n also I used the chance You gave me, worshipping your sandals with Your beautiful footprint perfectly formed on it….it was risky but I wanted it…. I hope my Mistress is not disappointed that I came w/o Your permission  or presence although Your sandals were there to witness….Muahhhh!”

He 

came 

on 

my 

shoes. 

I've actually never met a person that was so turned on by the dirty imprint of my feet on the bottom of my shoes. But today is the day a man found my filthy shoes so erotic, he came to the thought of my feet. 

“Did you notice last night how frantically n excited I was bowing in the middle of the hallway facing your shoes, cock in hand and inhaling the oh so arousing smell of your perfect feet left on the sexy sandals hoping nobody sees me while trying to reach the so wanted orgasm ASAP yet wishing you’d open the door to tell me how to do it or make it stop….”

At first I had feelings of upset that my Coyote misbehaved and touched his cock without permission by me. And there's another part of me that finds his nature endearing. I'm sure I yelled at him for it, but the other part of me is completely turned on by the fact that his cum couldn't help but come out to the thought of my sandals.