Dear Diary

"Addiction, an impulse that, once indulged, is impossible to pacify. Even when starved, the hunger survives."

Dear Diary,

I really never thought I would be back here. Wanting. Hungering. Several months passed and even I was convinced that I was over the memories, the passion. Mentally, I told myself he didn't want me, but there were plenty of others who did. I continued to write stories, have lusty encounters, failing to realize that life is never predicable. It's when the skies clear that you quickly forget the storm is only over for a moment, not forever.

Like most events, the inciting incident seemed to be inconsequential, trivial. The weather prevented me from going to work and school so that I was home, enjoying a break from the hectic schedule I was living. Online, I saw that he was online and soon an instant message popped up on my computer. We made small talk about the weather and he asked me if I was enjoying my break. Impulsively, I responded quickly about how it would be much better if he were here. Instantly, he responded asking me if I wanted him to kiss and bite my nipples or feel him rub my clit until I shuddered in ecstasy.

Sitting on my couch, I shivered in lust reading his detailed memories about the ways he brought me pleasure. "Make me cum", I typed back to him, a challenge. "Soon," he replied. The conversation ended, but I couldn't forget. My body wanted the fulfillment that my master always promised, always fulfilled.

I couldn't forget the online conversation; in fact, it provoked more naughty dreams, dreams that would cause me to wake up wet and aching. In response, I wrote the following and sent it to him.

Dear Master,

I've always been a dreamer. My dreams are vivid and highly imaginative, regardless of the subject or content of my dream. Sometimes my dreams feel so lifelike, so real that I don't want to wake from the dream, just experience it over and over again until I'm ready to face reality. Whether I'm daydreaming or fully asleep, I am able to remember just about everything I envisioned, tastes, smells, even sensations from the dream.

However, since Sunday, I've been dreaming about you. You come to me, my lover, during the night, your favorite time to visit me. I hear your car in my driveway and feel my body respond, my breathing quickens, my nipples tighten, my pussy moistens itself, ready to experience all that you have to offer. You walk up the steps and I open the door, allowing you inside my house, and soon, inside of me. I see your lips beginning to move, and I move quickly, pushing you up against the door. I lean in to whisper in your ear that I'm ravenous and kiss you.

Sometimes in this dream you are wearing a hat and I pull it off of your head and fling it somewhere in my living room. My kiss is gentle, inquisitive, until you respond and it becomes passion-filled, intense. You pull me closer to you, grinding your hips against my crotch, and I moan into your mouth, enjoying the feeling of your cock rubbing against me. I pull you closer to me, my hands grabbing your hips, your hands grabbing my ass, and I deepen this kiss, eager to relearn your taste, your passion.

We kiss for a while, our breaths ragged, our hands exploring, our hips moving against one another. Your hands cup my breasts and I already know that if I allow you, you will pinch and tease my nipples, taking control of this moment.

I break our kiss and roughly pull your pants down, needing to feel your cock in my mouth, your hands in my hair. I kiss the head of your cock, before taking you fully into my mouth, slowly moving my tongue along the bottom of your hard cock, relearning your taste. I bob my head up and down, feeling you moving in and out of my mouth, enjoying the sound of your groans and the tightening of your body. I place my hands on your ass, as a way to guide you in and out of my mouth, to bring you pleasure.

Sometimes in the dreams, you pull my hair, only to pull me up and we race to the bedroom, clothes flying everywhere, before landing on my bed and we frantically touch, kiss, and grinding, both of us famished for one another.

Lately though, I've been dreaming that you stop my tasting of you and push me to the floor, kissing me and stripping me of my clothing before I help you with yours. I hear my dog barking in the background, but it sounds like he is miles away, for I am so focused on finally touching you, tasting you that nothing else matters. You pull my legs apart and I lean on my elbows watching you above me. I reach for the condom on my table and toss it to you and before I know it you are inside of me, hard and insistent. I whimper and you moan and we are moving against one another, impatient to feel the other in the most intimate of ways.

As you thrust inside of me, my hips move on the carpet and I know I'll have rug burn the next day, but know I'll consider it a mark of passion, a fun memento of this lusty encounter.

You play with my nipples with your mouth, your fingers, determined to make me cum, so that my pussy drenches and clenches your dick throughout my orgasm. My orgasm hits me hard and you follow soon after, digging your fingers into my hips as you cum. Out of breath, you rest your forehead against mine and release my legs, both of us panting and attempting to regain our breaths. You pull me up and take me to my bed, to prepare for another round of fucking.

When I wake up from this dream, I am momentarily confused, reaching out as if you were here to fulfill my needs, my desires. I run my hands down my body, realizing I am so aroused from this dream that it won't take me much to cum. I climax instantly, wishing my pussy really was clamping down on your hard cock instead of drenching my fingers. I lie in bed, panting, wanting the dream to become reality, instead of another dream unfilled.

It's Friday night. It's been a long week with trying to get back into the swing of things for work and school; however, I know that after I shower tonight and prepare for bed, I'll dream this dream again and probably wake up craving more.

I'll see you later, lover, in my dreams.

Make me cum soon, Master, while using your words and hurting me so good...

I sent the letter to him and returned to my busy schedule, placing it all out of thought, out of mind. Occasionally, I would text him "Happy Wednesday" or "Happy Friday" in the morning with some pithy comment attached to the well-wishing. Usually, he responded thanks and life continued.

However, one Friday night, lying in my bed exhausted from the week, I heard my phone chirp, indicating I had a text message. I glanced down at my phone and saw that it was from him.

"You hoped my Friday was fun, lusty, warm, and wet?" he asked.

I laughed aloud. Usually, he ignored my snarky commentary or comments. I quickly responded that I was fun and lusty as well as warm and wet. I didn't have to wait long for his response. "How wet?" I closed my eyes and thought about the fact that a lot of time passed since the last time we fucked. I remembered the last time he came over and how little sleep I got that night. My body eagerly responded to my memories and my touch.

After a few moments, I could easily text back that I was wet.

"Let me know when you are dripping wet," he texted.

"Get over here and I will be," I quickly texted back.

"You always tell me that I rush you, you tell me when you are ready," was his response.

I tossed the phone on my bed and ran my fingers through my hair. As I prepared to shower, I debated the wisdom of this choice. As I shaved my pussy bare, my mind was at war with my body, my mind berating me five different kinds of fool, while my submissive body craved his touch, his dominance, and his dick. I finished my shower and moisturized my skin. I texted ready to him, knowing it would not take me long to lightly apply makeup and do my hair.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I saw a flushed, nervous woman peering back at me. I blew out a breath and straightened my spine. On my mirror, I taped various inspirational quotes on index cards for me to glance at in the morning for strength. My current favorite? "Hope strengthens, fear kills." I could spend this time listing all the reasons why I shouldn't see him, shouldn't give in to my addiction. Or, I could accept that he is someone who I want and need. No regrets, just pleasure. I slip on a teddy and brush my hair, anxiously awaiting his arrival. I light my candles in my bedroom and straighten up the room.

I glance at the clock and realize I still have about 5 minutes until he will be here. I lie down on my couch and close my eyes. I think about the last time I saw him and how he cupped my breasts from behind. My hands mimic the phantom hands in my mind. He always used to move his hands slowly up my legs, prolonging the caress and building my pleasure. I can almost feel his hands sliding up my legs, caressing my inner thighs, and parting my legs. He kisses my inner thighs and I can feel his warm breath on my pussy, his hands underneath me, cupping my ass. My reverie is shattered by the noise of a car in my driveway. I tremble from the desire I feel, the need to have him in control just one more time.

I open the door, my head bowed with reverence, and allow him inside. He smells divine, like sex and sin wrapped in one delightful package. He brushes past me and I shiver, and turn to follow him to my bedroom. He sits on my bed and I kneel in front of him, head bowed, my hands resting on my thighs. My submissive pose is misleading, for I may be kneeling, but inside I want to fling my body on top of his, kissing, rubbing, tasting every bit of open skin. My eyes are closed when he caresses my face. I lean into his hand and enjoy the feel of his touch. His hand moves into my hair and his touch ceases to be gentle. My eyes open as he uses my hair to pull my head back so that I'm looking into his eyes.

"Naughty slave," he tells me with a smirk. "I can smell you, did you cum before I got here?"

I shook my head in negation, my chest heaving.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" I shake my head again in negation. "I can smell how wet you are for me." He releases my hair and goes to my nightstand. Per previous play dates; he always wanted all of my toys available for him to see, to use on me.

Looking down at the floor, I could hear him picking up toys, but couldn't see which ones he chose. He moves away from the toys and I can feel him behind me, my body wildly attuned to his scent, his body. He places a blindfold on my eyes and moves from behind me. I hear him sitting down on the bed and assume from the noise that he is undressing in front of me. I feel him lean down and cup one of my breasts. He pinches a nipple and I whimper, but my whimper turns into a gasp as I feel a clamp placed on that nipple. He repeats the action to my other breast, until I can feel the weighted nipple clamps tugging at my nipples, increasing my desire.

I hear him sit down on the bed and can sense that he is right in front of me. Seconds pass by and I know from previous experiences that if I lean forward he may let me taste him or better yet take him deep within in my mouth. I decide to continue with my "carpe diem" attitude and lean forward.

My lips touch one of his thighs. I kiss his skin gently and then gently lick. I use my hands to pull myself closer and to wrap my hands around his lower back. I lick and suck my way up his thighs, listening to the changes in his breathing. I gently lick and nibble at his balls while my left hand creeps up and lightly grasps his dick. Touching his hard dick makes me want to reacquaint myself in his taste. He knows that I receive pleasure by pleasing him and allows me to taste him to my heart's content.

I lick the head and then swirl my tongue around the tip, reveling in hearing him moan above me. Moving my hands to his thighs, I open my mouth wide to take him deep into my mouth and please him fully. God, I've missed the way he tastes. The way he pulls my hair so gently and forcefully, creating the pleasure/pain line that I love, that I need.

Lost in my own determination to make him cum, I am deliciously surprised when I feel my paddle smack me hard on my left ass check. I moan around his dick and continue to taste him, alternating between sucking and licking while he alternates smacking my ass cheeks with the paddle. Soon, we both are moaning, shuddering, both of us very close to climaxing. He abruptly stops spanking me, pulls me up off the floor, and tosses me onto the bed.

As I protest the loss of his dick in my mouth, he shuts me up by thrusting his tongue into my mouth while thrusting his dick between my legs. My body quickly molds itself to his, wanting to feel him everywhere and anywhere. He kisses me breathless and senseless. Like a moth to the flame, I lose myself in the brightness of my submission to him. Maybe this is my destruction or rebirth, but I find that I could care less. I ache... I want... I need this moment.

He ends the kiss and laughs when I whimper and reach for him. He pushes my arms above my head and nips my neck with his teeth. I arch into his kiss, his bite. He licks his way to my earlobe and bites gently. He begins to whisper all the naughty things he plans to do to me and laughs softly at my trembling body, violently aroused by his seductive words. His fingers part my wet folds and begin to rub my swollen clit. As I moan my pleasure, his tongue enters my mouth. Ruthlessly, he brings me to a fever pitch of desire, tasting my cries of passion in his mouth. Literally, he takes my breath away and I lose myself in the moment.

Time becomes immeasurable; I had no idea if minutes or even hours had passed. He used his fingers, his dick, his tongue, his words, and his domination to turn me into a quivering mass of muscles, all rational thought gone. I pleaded, begged, cursed, screamed for him to just fuck me, but he ignored me and continued to make me cum. Breathing hard, I tried to swallow to soothe my parched throat.

"Turn over," he commanded me and I weakly rolled over, resting my head on my pillow.

"Did you miss me, my naughty slave girl?" he asked as he grabbed my hips and pulled them up and back against his hard dick.

I bit my bottom lip instead of answering his question. He rubbed against my soaked pussy, causing us both to moan in pleasure. Lost in my need, I thrust my hips backwards to entice him into finally fucking me. He grabs my hips roughly, holding my hips still against him.

"Don't you want your master to fuck you the way you want?" he demanded harshly. When I didn't't answer him quickly enough, he used one of his hands to grab hold of my hair and pull my head back. I hissed at the pain that turned quickly into pleasure for me. At that very moment, I became ruefully aware of my paradoxical feelings for him. I loved the way he made me feel as his submissive, yet hated him for his skillful mastery of my body. Submission is not a part of my personality in my daily activities and interactions, but when I am with him, I can't help but want to please him, to yield to his control.

Of course, he knows this about me. The lion never betrays his intentions to his prey until it's much too late to flee. He releases my hair and relaxes his grip in my hair. I feel him lean over me and place a kiss on my back. I release a shaky breath, unsure of his intentions. He continues to kiss up my back, moving my hair out of the way as he reaches my neck. Above me, he stretches his arms over mine and intertwines his hands with mine. He nips my neck with his teeth, while rubbing his body against mine. He licks my earlobe, only to gently bite it with his teeth. Unnerved by the change in tactics, I try to move, but his hands tighten against mine and his body traps me underneath him.

"Didn't you miss me?" he whispered in my ear. "I missed my slave girl. I thought about fucking you all day. Feeling how wet you get when I touch you."

I shuddered with lust, his words much more dangerous than his touch or his domination.

He releases his right hand from mine and moves his hand between my legs to touch my clit. I cover his hand with mine, not sure if I plan to help or hinder him in his attempts to pleasure me. He rubs my clit slowly, and resumes licking and biting my earlobe.

My pleasure builds gently, for he is relentless in his touch and his kisses. When I try to guide his hand rubbing my clit, he stops until I move my hand again. Frustrated, I try to change positions, but his body keeps me pinned underneath him.

"Derrick...please..." I beg.

"What baby?" he responds. "Tell me what you want." He continues to rub my clit faster, bringing me closer to another climax. I know that if I want him to be inside me when I climax, I have to give him the words he wants.

"I've missed my master," I gasped aloud. "Please fuck me hard, master."

He continues to rub my clit, as if he didn't hear my admission to him. Easily, he causes me to climax, my body shaking and shuddering beneath him. During the last tremors, I feel him move his hands to my hips and pull me up. He enters me in one violent thrust, and I begin to sob from the pleasure. Tears run down my face, as he fucks me from behind, and I can hear the slap of his skin against mine. Our moans and groans fill the air as I thrust my hips backwards in rhythm, feeling an intense orgasm building in my body. He pounds my pussy harder and I convulse, my pussy contracting and then squirting all over his dick.

In retaliation, he grips my hips harder and continues his punishing rhythm. Pleasure becomes agony as my body starts to climax again. Lost in the intensity of the moment, I hear screaming; not realizing the screaming was coming from me. Completely spent, I collapsed onto the bed, my chest heaving and sweat dripping off by body. I feel him pull out from behind me.

"Are you okay?" he asks me, kissing my shoulder.

I swallow, trying to moisten my raw throat, unable to find my voice and composure. He kisses my neck and I turn over under him. I wrap my legs around him as well as my arms. Gently, he kisses me and I can feel him rubbing against me. Knowing he is very close to his own orgasm, I widen my legs to allow him to slide inside of me.

He lifts his head. "Are you sure?" I pull his head back down and kiss him. He returns my kiss and grabs my hips as he enters me. We both moan at him gliding easily through my wetness. As he gently thrusts inside me, I can feel the tingles of another orgasm building. "Master," I gasp. "Fuck me hard. Come inside me."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

Annoyed, I bite his shoulder and dig my nails into his back. He hisses, but begins to fuck me harder. His fingers grip my hips hard and he begins to fuck me harder, pushing my legs above my head.

"You want to make your master cum?" he rasps above me.

"Yes, cum for me baby. Make us both cum." I pleaded.

He fucked me harder and I felt my orgasm hit me suddenly and my muscles clamped down on his cock. "Fuck, I'm cumming" he shouted and pounded me hard for several strokes. He collapses on top of me, both of us sweaty and exhausted.

I close my eyes. My bedroom reeks of sex. He gets up to go to the bathroom and I turn over on my side. I know the morning will bring to light all the thoughts I refuse to entertain now. He turns off the light and climbs back into bed with me. I turn on my side to look at him, the alpha, my master. I know all the romance novels would state that I could see myself reflected in his eyes, the promises of tomorrow, that I would be the one to tame my master and find a happy ending.

I don't see any of that reflected-just lust. He wants me, just as much as I want him. It has no boundaries, no time constraints. It doesn't matter if it's 5 am in the morning or 11 pm at night, we want, we take, we fuck. It's as simple as that.