Tessalyn.

I promised her I’d write a post solely for her… then again, I wasn’t entirely coherent when she asked, but that’s okay.

I love her anyway.

I think it slightly amuses and weirds us both out, the fact that we’re women … in love… with each other.

I’m one of those people who can throw myself head-over-heels for more than one person at the same time, and not have it diminish any feeling I have for anyone else. It’s neat. And frustrating. But neat.

Now that I’ve got that clarified…

Tessalyn.

What do I say about her? She’s… beautiful. She’s beautiful to the point where I’m stumbling over words and keys trying to type this post, wondering how I can possibly describe how she makes me feel. Yeah, she’s an Egyptian pervert goddess, really, but that’s half the fun. We had our share of problems… she broke my heart, but I’m quite certain she’s more than made it up to me.

I hadn’t seen her for awhile, and she came to visit this morning, lavishing me in “DAMMIT I MISSED YOU!” kisses. She’s the one that has no qualms with having her way with me – any time, anywhere, no matter what’s going on.

She’s the one who was rather impressed because she -bruised- me, playing with my toys, and I don’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure I was begging anyway. She’s the one that ties me up to make me squirm, torturing me with little teasing caresses – fingertips, lips, the damned fanbrush that I HATE – and want to throw away… but she told me that I won’t.

So I can’t.

I’ve never actually had a Mistress before. But damn, I don’t regret it. I’m rather melancholy about the fact that Soulfire hasn’t worked out how to take over for me yet – because I tend to think a lot about what would happen if it was me and Tessalyn, alone…

The images don’t come out very clear and coherent – it’s more sensations and dizziness. Soft skin – pale flesh meeting deeply tanned in an artistic irony not lost on either of us. We’re so very different, and yet in the end, the same – no matter which one of us is the one squirming and helpless. (Though I rather like it when I’m the helpless one. Please?)

I’m not sure what I would do to her, really… I’ve never been that intimate with a woman before. Maybe it would just start off with soft, little pleading touches… exploring. Seeing what makes the other whimper, what makes the other moan… I want to know every little place that she likes to have touched.

But then it would get dangerous.

You see… we both have a penchant for blades. The few times I’ve bled for her ended in a dizzying spiral, a rush toward pleasure that I can’t quite recall… and I want it. If we played there, there wouldn’t be the danger there is here… and she could do anything she wanted.

Anything.

I always had this fantasy about being tied up, bleeding… watching it drip off my nipples onto crisp, white sheets.

If it made it that far.

I want to see what little touches would send her soaring, what little touches would hold her on the edge… I want to hold her and stroke her hair when it’s finished, feeling the way her body trembles against me, slickened with sweat and juices. I want to feel how warm she is, how wet. I want to look up into her eyes, seeing that she’s helpless to what I’m doing to her…

Exploring, so slowly – too slowly. The soft touches that run down your skin, down your sides, down your hips – so very close, but not close enough. The tiny crease where thigh and other, softer skin meet – does she shiver like I do, begging, when fingertips are so close? I want to know. I want to know what it sounds like when she begs, when she moans, when she screams. When she comes.

I want to know what it feels like for her to be clenched down tightly on my fingers as I smirk above her, watching her writhe below me, dragging her nails sharply down my back (she’s already left marks…). I want to know what she’ll say to me when I tease her, dragging out the inevitable – what she’ll swear and promise to do to me in revenge.

What -will- she do?

She’d probably pull me into her lap, making me straddle one thigh, perhaps, so she could feel me wet and squirming against her, resting my head on her shoulder. Running her nails lightly down my back, so damn -teasing- that I can’t stand it.

All because she likes the way I beg.

And it isn’t -fair- and she KNOWS it. She knows I hate being teased, she knows I can’t take it…

But that’s never really stopped her.

She tests my limits and then forgets them, forcing me to bend to her will and obey – leading me to wherever her pleasure will take me.

Do I regret being hers?

No.

I don’t think I ever will.

The only thing I regret is that Soulfire hasn’t figured it out yet.

If he does, I’ll let him watch…

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