Showing posts with label Lover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lover. Show all posts

Thursday, December 4, 2014

A Fairy Vampire is Seduced by the DANDY ... A Tale of Astral-Gasms




Rarely does one seduce me.. yet dare I say I still have the upper hand. He contains and reflects little remnants of the magic that I had once shared with Bunny...the nuances in his accent, the way that his jewelry flashes when he flicks his wrist, the mischievous charm behind his smile. Yet there's a sincerity, a delicate and subtle innocence to the Dandy, like a boy who you chase around on the playground because you like him. Running and giggling on the playground, flashing your eyes, but dare not either of you confess your secret liking. He is that one, that gets my butterfly wings fluttering; for he sees an alternate color within me, he sees my most saturated self.

Some men get my pastels, my more muted grays, or a faded version of myself. Some cannot perceive the full spectrum that I am; they're color blind to my Majesty. Some men are lucky enough to get my deep velvet red, my pink splendor, and flirtatious yellow. But it's those that get into my imagination, whom are revealed the invisible nuances of my personality.



The lamp that shines forth from his eyes brings out my luminescence, the kind that flickers and changes every time he peers into me. With every glance another pathway is revealed, another opening, another gateway presents itself. His observant mind shines forth this laser of perception into me, and I prismatically illuminate a fickle magic that only shines with his perception. 

To say that he showed up at the right place at the right time is an understatement. His stance, firm but not cocky, dressed in black leather, next to my ex, the Bunny, they look like two European renegades. 

They're laughing at me, and flash a charming deviance, for I had just been heavily flirting with a Greek God at the Halloween masquerade party my friends were putting on in Hollywood. I had the most physically perfect specimen in front of me, and we were getting hot and heavy, until I turn around, and Bunny is there, laughing because he found me gyrating all over this man in my pink sequin dress, huge feather headdress complete with a riding crop. Properly dressed as a Fairy Vampire Domme, I arose from my meaty prey on the couch, and greeted the Dandy newcomer.

Although I was rudely interrupted by Bunny who pulled me out of this juicy make out session, I quickly ditched the most physically perfect man of muscle I think I have ever touched, and sprung into Bunny's arms to say hello. That's just what you do for old friends.

Timing is absolutely everything when you meet a potential lover...if they come into your life too early, the connection hasn't matured, the magnetism is dull, and the attraction is just a curiosity. When you meet someone too late, you see parts of their past which haunt them, and you're forever chasing a fleeting moment, or perhaps the wine has turned to vinegar and every sip of them is sour.

The Dandy entered my vortex at just the right time. The air in LA had just changed, it became more crisp, reflecting the Autumn season, for it was almost Halloween, where the gouls come out at night to meet the Fairy Domme Vampires.

I dare to try to name him, because his true name is so Iconic, soulful, and rare. In Hebrew it means the Island of Palms... but the air in him is much more rare than the oceanic oxygen.

He's a fashion designer from Berlin, and obviously dresses himself, which is the most seductive thing about him, and he does it very well. In my eyes, a man can kill a woman when dapperly outfitted. He uses sharp tailored lines, dark colors and angular collars as his bate to draw me in; an ode to Victorian Vampires and the sexy deviants of the night, his understated style says so much more than a bold color or flashy garnish. He chooses decorative simplicity, an art form that is difficult to master... and masterful he is.

Apparently he fits my stereotypical weakness; a sexy man from Europe who is well dressed, well educated and well-traveled, and speaking a few languages doesn't hurt. 


We flirt a little bit throughout the night, and get cozy at the after party.  We talk and giggle and lightly flirt, but I don't think anything of it.

I get a spur of the moment inspiration to run out of this apartment at 4am and chase the approaching Sun; it's near dawn and I want to feel the Sun penetrating me. I have to silence my mind that used to think that I wouldn't survive the next day if I stayed up to watch the sunrise, but now I have a newfound energy and charge from these sacred and rare moments. We gather a few disco-cops, puppies, and werewolves and leave the after-party so that we can get the most epic view over Los Angeles. These are the hills that I would be moving to in one short week's time, and didn't even realize it yet. These are the hills where I fell in and out of love with Bunny. These are the hills where I will start and launch my dreams and musings.

 This is the beginning of a new era, a new opening, a new creation phase for me. I am beginning to step into my true power as a woman. 

He, the Dandy, sits back as a quiet witness; sweetly reflecting my magic, and the rising of the sun. No words, just a few smiles and notions of his arm brushing mine, his body pressed up against me for our morning photographs, truly a deviant innocence about him.

After we snuffed the clouds and become rainbows and mooned the sun (yes it's possible) we hiked down the hill with our colorful costumed friends, and the hikers from the morning cross our paths. The absurdity of the moment is palpable, and I cannot help but laugh at them, and them at us. There is shared absurdity; them for living perceivably normal lives. And for us; well my friends and I aren't cut from sterile white bread, and don't fit into anyone's box. We stand out to say the least!

We return to the car, and I have to take the new posse home; Bunny, who's passing out in the back seat, and has since completely lost his mind; and my new Dandy is in the front seat, who is still somewhat cognitively aware. His hand, gently brushing against mine, suggests the pull closer to him. It's strange to have my exe's friend flirt with me right in front of him. On some level I justify it because I had just told Bunny that I could never be romantic with him ever again. And no we can't "make love." I have finally rejected him for the last and final time. Saying no has been feeling really good lately.

Yes that Bunny. The Bunny that I thought I would always love, always adore, always cherish... the magical love that I could never kill, that haunted me obsessively , that I ached for, and would do anything to have. And now, here he is in front of me, telling me he wants to make love to me (funny words coming from him now,) and I have absolutely zero attraction for him anymore. None. So I had to break it down to Bunny that night;

"Ummmm soooooo I can't really make love to you because I killed you. You're dead to me. I can't be with you, and you can't be with me. I'm sorry this is what I had to do to protect myself from ever being hurt by you again."

Bunny's eyes swell up in tears, and some of the pain hits him. Perhaps he always thought that I would be there for him, in that way, that he could come around every 6 months then leave again. I'm sure he has a girlfriend at home and 5 other girls he's lying to. I just refuse to be one of them ever again.

I let Bunny have his reaction, he'll come around, he always does. I just sink back into my Dandy, trying to explain the complexity of the Bunny and I, and it's impossible to state. The important thing is it's over.

I drop Bunny off at his house that morning, and the Dandy stays with me. We drive him to Beverly Hills, in a nice tucked away location in the hills. I can tell that he wants me to go upstairs with him, badly. A part of me wants to as well. But what kind of man goes after his best friend's ex, right under his nose... ugh. I just couldn't bare it, to sleep with him and come off as hurtful. I take his hands, he leans in and kisses me.

It's a good-bye kiss. The lingering ones that don't want to end... but it does and he leaves the car. I just sit there for a while, looking at my phone probably, not in any rush to leave.
When I finally turn around, I look up and those eyes are still penetrating me, staring into me and calling me closer to his magnetic center. He's standing on the stair case looking at me, hovering into me, a gaze that says everything.

I stop and roll down the window, delighted in his gesture. But alas I say goodbye for the final time that night (err morning), and drive off into the Sunny LA day.

A week passes before we can meet again. In the duration of one week's time, I view a house in the Hollywood Hills, love it, sign the lease, and move in that week. I thought I would be set up by Wednesday, and which was when I invited the Dandy to come over and enjoy my new pad in the hills. It just so happens to be a near full moon that night, and we watch the beautiful luna blanca above our heads, as I joke about calling in my soul mate on the full-moon.

I tell him I would rather have a Sugar Daddy than a soul-mate, and that I'm not calling in a relationship right now. Heh.. as if I get to decide my future...

The majestic entrance, gardens, green space, outdoor fountains and open air seduce us in the night.

We share a few smokes outside, I'm completely crashed out from the move, and he relaxes with me. I don't remember him being nervous before, but it takes a few moments for us to feel comfortable with one another, and remember the ease and comfort of each other.

I take him downstairs into what will be my future Dakini dungeon, and sit him on the couch, the only piece of furniture there. I cuddle up to his small frame, and my ass hovers all the way up to his face. I explain about my sensual sensitivities, how I can have different kinds of orgasms, like a laugh gasm, taste gasm, or even an astral gasm.

"What's and Astral Gasm?" He asks unknowingly and curious.

"You've never had an Astral Gasm?" I reply surprised, I just think it's common knowledge now, but I guess not everyone thinks sex is the last frontier.

"Hmmm maybe if you're lucky you'll have an Astral Gasm with me sometime."

We continue the flirtation, with my ass still near his face, my body feels at least twice the size of his, but he owns my body well, and allows me to melt into him. I'm not shy about my curves, and flaunt them for his touch to access. He grabs my flesh firmly and squeezes the skin around my waste, my hips, my thighs, and my back. He tugs at it, and I can tell they're love tugs on my love handles. Just when I thought I needed to loose a little weight, this one affirms that I don't, and he revels in my womanly tissue.

We make out a little while longer on the couch, before I want to take him upstairs so I can lie down.

I don't really remember what we did first, I just remember his energy being translucent, electrical light...I remember the lustrous expansiveness I had when I was with him... I remember the energy shooting out the crown of his head when he came.

Somehow I got the clothing designer to take off all his clothes, and leave his outside persona at the door. Now I just had him, his bare white flesh dressed on a thin frame, and no more Dandy qualities to produce smoke and mirrors. Just our two naked bodies making contact in the sheets, just my mouth against his, his hands on me, our flesh is our only protection now against the darkness of the night.

His delicate features are somewhat effeminate, and the skin on his cock is something unlike I have ever experienced. I suppose that is saying a lot for a sensualist who touches a lot of cock. It is another world of sensory wonder, and I begin to get lost in it.

At first glance, it's nothing special, not particularly large or bulging, but it has a different quality to it, a silky sensitivity that I couldn't get enough of. I enjoy having cock in my mouth, taking it in and teasing it for a long time. I think it builds the arousal in both partners. I know what most cock feels like in my mouth and I enjoy it a lot.. but this... this.. was.. extraordinary. I felt like I had this magical sensory computer communication system between my mouth and his most delicate skin; every inflection of my tongue sent shivers through his whole body, and I gain more and more of a turn on by relishing in this power of seduction. I take delight in all the ways in which I danced on his skin, and his skin was filling the saliva on my palette, making my whole being entirely, uncontrollably ecstatic, and even more excited by his turn on.

There is nothing that I admire more then when a man gets into a deep state of sensual surrender, where his body turns into a snake's body of undulating rhythmic bliss, and their moans reward my efforts. The moon is full that night, and highlights euphoria upon his face, and smoothed head. Whenever I look up from this cock worship, he is tilting his head back with his eyes pulling upwards, he can't control the moaning and grinding ecstasy which is pulsating through his body, and even a foot or two outside of him. There is electricity in the air, and the electrons keep dancing through our neurons...firing quicksilver orgasms everywhere. I fucking work him. I work him up hard.

The tension builds in his groins, his eyes rolling back in his head, his moans growing, his contractions getting larger...my mouth sucking even more fervently, I am screaming louder, I am a turned on hot mess, about to be blessed in his come. I can barely keep him on the bed from the orgasm, screaming moaning.. writhing ecstasy of a man. Our crowns somehow travel outside the confines of the room, and confirm our connection to something outside of ourselves. This sexploration opened up a portal of cosmic potential within us, and deep affirmative bliss inside of our beings.

I told him about Astral gasms a few hours earlier, and now I am confident that I don't have to explain the difference of how it feels between a regular orgasm. Now he knows by experience how to be completley blown open both physically and spiritually by an orgasm.

We lay there covered in come, dead, killed by the Devil's Seduction, except the Angels are singing in the heavens, the fairies are writhing in euphoria. and the Vampires have awoken in the night. The Fairy Vamp has found a Deviant Dandy, and the Dandy caught an LA Fairy by her wings.

Before he leaves, I ask him to tell me a bedtime story, and he improvises a tale of me in my first days in Paris... a dream that I have had for 6 years and haven't gone... a dream that haunts my soul.

I fall asleep to the sound of his Dandy voice, his German-Israeli whatever the fuck European accent, describing to me in detail, what I am to do once I touch down in the City of Lights. Parisian bedtime stories are a wet dream come true; and his Dandy qualities come out in is loving detail of my Parisian adventures. He tells me about how I have to order a croissant and espresso at the same cafe 3 days in a row so they get to know me there. I can't keep switching cafes. He tours me around the city, the day time, the nighttime, the art and architecture until my eyes gently close, and I fall asleep having toured Paris in my mind and he leaves me to my slumber. The Dandy has a fashion meeting to go to with some Goth Rocker that desires his threads in LA.

When my mind drifts off, I just release into the Dandy's gaze, his simple smile, a caress on the face, the kind that makes me feel so sweetly protected, like a child, and that there's no more effort to be had. My only job is complete surrender back into the night.

He shares his simple adoration and attention with a caress to make a woman swoon.

This Fairy Vamp has many games of seduction until she is caught in her own game of cat and mouse, and I am unknowingly caught; I have just been seduced by this man who's leaving back to Europe in a week that left me with Parisian lullabies. I am rarely seduced to this extent by a man... and dare I say I hope I still have the upper hand. 

Sunday, January 12, 2014

The Last Chapter With the Dark Prince

Communication between my Prince and I became more and more troubled as time went on.

I found myself wanting different things than what he could give me, and he just would never be the type of man that I truly wanted; a go-getter, fierce, & cut throat ambitious as fuck businessman.

He could dedicate all of his time and energy to working out, but wouldn't dedicate the same ferociousness to getting his life back on track.

His daily habits and lack of foresight was just not attractive to me and I lost any last shreds of respect that I once had. You can imagine how this would reflect in our relationship; not well. 

The breaker for me was his inability to go to a vital business conference with me, a once in a lifetime opportunity I felt. He had to consult with his Jewish family, because he had Shabbat that day, and every Saturday for that matter, and couldn't make the imperative decision to change his life (in my view) for the better, and would rather stay at home, living with his AHEM JEWISH MOTHER. 

That was the weekend that we parted, officially, pretty much forever. 

We exchanged a few more PUSH AND PULL communications, him making plans with me, ignoring my calls and planning over what we had planned because I didn't answer one phone call.. just really immature actions really. We all have wounds to heal and his were coming up, so were mine, and they were nicely displayed on a clear piece of glass for us to view, scrutinize and analyze. Neither one of us had the proper tools or the willpower to heal the rift that was splitting us.

After that he cut off all communication from me which had been REALLY hard, especially when someone tells you that they love and care for you so deeply, that they will always be there for you, and then in one magic moment, POOF they are nowhere to be found, and want nothing to do with you.

I most definitely hurt his pride, but it is all a representation of me testing his supposed weaknesses, an action I regret. It doesn't do any good to test your lover; but it was my way of acting out in the relationship because in the long run I knew he wasn't right for me. 

So my Prince and I would do what any young and loving couple would do that are completely head over heels for each other sexually, and can't function in the REAL WORLD; cut our losses and walk the other way.

The depression hit me hard, almost immediately; where my chest felt like I hit a brick wall going 1,000 miles an hour and now I'm left with the impact; as if love is a locomotive with a certain velocity and momentum, and suddenly it all comes to a screeching halt and you're left to pick up the debree  of an unplanned stop at Heartbreak, USA.

I felt like I crashed, and I was burned, despite this being the desired outcome that we both needed.

I saw HIM, the REAL HIM, one last time; the sweet Prince, the spirit of his name forever etched inside my heart from the first time we made love. I saw him; the affectionate, endlessly loving and soft man that loved me so perfectly.

After our final decision to no longer be a unit of functional love, we met at the health food store in mid-city where we often ate. I had to see him. The aching in my chest needed some form of relief, and he was the only remedy. I met him outside, and he sat on the table while talking to my friend who we ran into at the same time. I sat down and lay my head in his lap, a sweet relief, a sip of water when I felt like i was in a dying desert of wallowing shock.

He provided last minute solace, and we eventually made our way inside and got our food.

I broke into tears as I sipped my soup when he told me he couldn't go home with me tonight. The burning desire in my soul to HAVE him one last time was so immense I could barely sit next to him. The fire of the heart was burning brighter than ever. I seem so tough until I can't have what I truly most want, after my harsh exterior has faded away, I am but an empty shell of soft hope.

My emotions were too much for him to handle in a public place so we sat in my car in the parking lot, looking into each other's eyes lovingly, him still pouring his immaculate heart into mine, while speaking the words that I didn't want to hear. 

Even his breath was a seduction to me; the air that left his lips was somehow holy and infused with God's grace; his words hit every fiber of my being. I've truly never felt something this magical in a man's breath. It was too late to worship, I had forsaken him. 

His hand merely brushed my lap and my loins were aflame in debilitating desire. I LITERALLY couldn't move until I had him, all of him, completely merged with him. His mouth met mine, his soul kissing my soul, his saliva like the sweetest nectar I've ever had, we lingered in this moment until we both knew our desire was so intense that we needed to move somewhere where we could be alone. 

We snuck into his mother's house, knowing she wasn't home and shut the door to his room; the electricity had died off a little bit, and we undressed and rolled around in the sheets, embracing each other. But our hearts were too damaged at this point to really make love; we couldn't go there, but held each other in the last tendrils of love and care until I left. 

And that was the LAST time that I ever felt his most sweet, most dear intoxicating drunken love, which completely enraptured my soul.

I will never forget his words, spoken upon every time he saw me,

"Oh Lo'ren," said in Hebrew intonation, "Oh mi Amor, Mon Cheri...oh Motek." His French rolled off his sweet tongue just as much as his Hebrew, a seduction I will not soon replace. 

Weeks past with no communication, I'm guessing in order for him to truly let me go he needed a real clean break. And I also happened to tell him before Thanksgiving that if he couldn't make solid plans with me then I would make them with someone else.

Definite breaking point. 

Despite the silence between us, his closed heart ushering me out the door, I cannot help but think about all of our tender moments together; how much he worshipped me, how he made love to me with his entire being. I texted him on Christmas Day, my heart shining ever so brightly with the intention of forgiveness, of bringing our differences to the Light, and I was also filled with the aching of regret that somehow I was the cause of all of this; that this was all my fault; that I hurt him and I could never go back and experience this love that was so pure and tender.

Every moment that passes without him I feel a twinge of regret in my heart. I would think of him, his eyes, and the way he would look into me, pierce me with those espresso tinted eyes, and every fiber in my heart would punish me. 

"I only think of you warmly." I would tell him to see if his deadened pulse could be revived. 

"I'm not sure if you're upset with me, but I sincerely apologize and hope that you can forgive me."

His last response was 

"I'm not mad at you because you did nothing wrong. I have nothing to forgive you for, either. I just can't make plans with you, Sorry."

And that was that. He cant make plans with someone who likes to plan in advance, and follows through with them. Huh.. well yeah point well taken. 

But somehow there is still a voice that plays like a broken record,

"I know I failed him; I failed me, I failed us."

I took a completely innocent, loving, kind and generous man into an argumentative demeanor, always on defense to my offense. I was always testing his generosity of heart, his sincerity and his breaking point. 

I was seeing if and when he would take charge, how and why. 

He did in some ways... Sometimes just by getting pissed at me. 

Sometimes by rolling over in a childish fit because I wasn't giving him attention.  

But all of these things vanished when he kissed me, when he touched me, when he was inside me. My entire body a canvas for his soul, he painted me with his heart. 

I spat on his love, My God, My King. 

I forsaken him. 

I did not honor His Love. 

The depths of His Love and commitment. 

I did not strictly value Him. I placed confines and boundaries on his love,and we could not survive under these conditions. 

So he cut me out, he cut me off, he cut my heart out of his, served up my portion of beating flesh on my plate and somehow now I have to eat my own medicine of rejection, fear and anger. He said no more. 

And now all I can hear is the faded echo of this pulse, the withered flesh of my soul that will never be enlivened by his care and attention again. 

We made love one more time, but his love had already left from me; the book of him was closed, and these are the last words I write on the Dark Prince. 

I regret my last words to him.

I regret ever slaying his Name. 

My King, my Prince, My Love. 

I forever cherish him. 

And he, doesn't even speak my Name. 


Sunday, September 9, 2012

Queens Versus Aces.. All in or Fold?

I'm not really sure how I am supposed to feel now. Part of me thinks I should be satisfied because I won; I won him away from his old life, he chased me all over Burningman, he's saying the right words again,.. But my heart goes through weird contractions in the middle of my highway drive from Between the Sunset of Venice to the disk of Hollywood. I have a lot of time to think of him in my car and perhaps this is when I miss him the most. I yearn so badly to be filled to the brim, to be completely overflowing with godly power from my King; the only problem is he hasn't accepted his crown yet. I know our fate, and on some levels he does too, but promises are not his to make. He knows he cannot fail if he does not get on the horse. So he chooses to walk solo on the ground, hands free of the reigns that attach to my heart. He cannot be accused of unfulfilled hopes with me if he makes no word of any future.

He filled my dreams last night somewhere between my sub-conscience and the LA earthquakes. His face, his voice in my hallway, perhaps his spirit really did travel to my house last night to meet me, but his body stayed sound asleep at home, probably next to his Dragon; the Ex, the one torturing him till his last drop excuses him from this life, until every last ounce is wrenched out of his mortal coil.

I see in him immortality. That is how he makes me feel when I am in his presence; imm-fucking-mortal, invincible, unconquerable. Yes I have been yearning for a Kingly figure in my life for many years; the Disney Fairy Tale, the one to ride off with into the sunset;like We will
Live happily ever after; at least in my imagination! Unfortunately the mind does not predict major road blocks, it cannot calculate fate or circumstance, only the Universe has the Upper hand; sometimes you are only left to play the shitty cards you are dealt. I'm in the middle of playing a poker hand with the Milky Way.

I cannot just throw my cards in and forfeit this game; my chips are in, my heart has bet on him, a lover at least more entertaining than anyone before. For a Gemini which boring equals death, I have scored 4 Aces, but they are dangling on a wild Stallion. A lover that fucks the hidden crevices of my soul, revealing my wild Tendrils!! Love can only fill you where you are already full. My gas tank is mostly open to momentary interpretation, and right now I have the middle of my puzzle put together and the picture is beginning to take shape around a solid center, for the heart connection is strong, but the foundation is floating in the clouds and could drift into peripheral precipitation at any moment.

We finally fuck in the hotel bathroom; I was beginning to doubt the power of his cock at all; it had been two months and he lost his sex drive for a while. He still hadn't given me his sauce; the nectar from coming inside of me. Resilience and patience aren't concepts anymore, they are my daily practice with him. He's dosed with a heavy intoxicant by my friend and begins striking the clothes off of me; one thing Is for sure; when he wants it, he really wants it.
Once naked and the tip of his cock almost inside of me, we run into the bathroom for privacy from our two friends in the hotel room.

He straps it up and puts it in. We ride on the granite counter tops; he smothers my mouth with his hand, allowing my psyche to be completely terrified of his power and it works. My insides scream in submission and erotic terror. He is at least twice as strong as me but is generous with his mercy; he chokes me just enough, but never as much as to hurt me. The rest is a blur in my mind.

Eventually we proceed to the bed once my friends have left; he rides me on the bed now and moans with Euphoric Delight. I hear his pleasure growing and growing to a peak... And it happens; after two months of a dry desert, he rides this wave ALL the way to the shore... He comes inside me, of course the liquids trapped by latex.

He pulls it out, hovers his millions of spermal creation above me and jokes

"You want my Sauce?!!" an inside joke since I call him Bunny Sauce, but I haven't gotten a millimeter of his juice since the very beginning back in June.

"Yes!" I say, even though the thought of it on me from the condom doesn't really sound that appealing.

It doesn't matter, he turns it upside down and drizzles his warm sauce all over my chest and belly. I have no choice but to embrace it and spread it all over me. I almost jump immediately into the shower, but I turn around, and request his hands back on my pussy to make me come. No one loves my pussy more than him. No one makes me come like he does. He doesn't just touch my pussy; he temporarily becomes obsessed with it, and puts all of his brain power and lightning attention into it, filling it not just with his physical being, but with his entire essence. Nothing is better.

I'm sure I scream and tremble for minutes, contractions that send me out of my mind. I'm thoroughly fucked and I love it. We feel temporarily complete. Unconquerable, immortal, invincible with his Power.

And, a week later, writing these words, alone, I am back in the same vulnerable position. Will I bet all my chips or fold in resignation?
I'm choosing to play my poker face and let him make the next move.