Desire of the Flesh

I have a desire. A desire of the flesh. Something that is in my mind day and night. Something that burns inside of me. When I think of it I become wet and horny, filled with passion enough to make my pussy moist and wet. So horny that I could probably orgasm simply by rubbing my clothed body along a chairs surface.

I wonder sometimes what it is that makes me desire these things. What makes me long for leather and whips. What is it in my head that makes me tremble at the idea of my husband forcing his cock deep in my mouth until I gag. I wondered for quite some time as to if I was sane, or if some deep dark secret of my past has made me into this sexual sadist that I am becoming.

Of course, anyone who knows my husband and I knows that I am the more dominant of the two. Perhaps that is the appeal to me. Perhaps I simply want to have my control taken from me. I trust my darling Ryan more than I have ever trusted another person ever. Perhaps that is what allows me to give him the ability to take anything he wants from me. Perhaps that trust is what makes me desire the ability to worship him in every way.

I have told him of my desires, and yet he is hesitant of going as far as I would like. Oh, he enjoys a little slap and tickle, so to speak. But, he has told me that he worries of hurting me. I laugh a little on the inside, for really, that is what I am wanting him to do. I question as to if these are his real reasons. Perhaps his fear stems from the thought that he might enjoy such things. He was, after all, raised in a very catholic house, even though he no longer claims that religion as his own. He is certainly not repulsed by the idea of something more forceful, and yet he won’t go as far as I want him to.

What will it take to get him to tie me up and have his way with me? How can I convince him that I want him to force his cum into every orifice of my body. And yet here I sit, waiting for my husband to come home, writing stories of erotic fantasy, wishing that it was actuality.