As the year draws to a close, I have to painfully let them all go. It isn’t masochism, but practicality. The ones who come back are the ones who stay in my life forever. My vulnerability can be a beautiful thing as I allow them deep inside me, but I’m not stupid, I can’t let them get inside my head either.
There’s the fantasy, the one who’s way out of my league. Our chemistry is incredible, so sexual. I quiver at his slightest touch, am left reeling long after he’s gone. But he’s significantly older, I don’t know which version of myself to be when I’m with him. He’s a bad, bad boy who’s bound to break my heart if I allow myself to fall without a safety net.
The ‘boyfriend’ is everything I could possibly want in a man in every other parallel universe. He’s smart, he’s sensitive and he’s the kind of man who holds my hand when we’re out on the streets and can spend hours and hours just talking to. We fuck like bunnies, it’s athletic and experimental. Sometimes we also cuddle and make sweet, sweet love. I don’t understand why I build my walls around him actually, he’s been so good to me so far. He keeps me safe from my nightmares. But I feel greedy, I need something more.
Daddy Dominant is the oldest man I’ve ever been with. He’s kind as he is assertive. I get to be a child around him, awkward and eager to learn, eager to please. It’s a strange dynamic because I’m nothing like that outside of the bedroom. I enjoy following his instructions, he enjoys how my body reacts to him when he’s deep inside of me. Our relationship, sadly, remains confined to the house because I don’t know who it’d be to go out on an actual date with him. I don’t think I even want to.
Master puts me on a tight leash when he thinks I’m straying too far. He doesn’t like that there are others, but he knows he can’t control me outside of our little arrangement. I don’t have a problem with the other submissives, if he has any, so he doesn’t have a say in my choice to be with other lovers either. Honestly, this plays out just like a pornographic movie. He’s got all the works but I have a sinking feeling in my heart that he’s starting to fall in love. Our games are always fun, the orgasms are extra ordinary but it’s only a matter of time before he breaks. Love is a strange, strange thing and happens under the most unexpected circumstances. But I know I have to cut him off at some point, it’s for his own good.
Sexual liberation is a superpower in times like these. No matter what the kink, the key is always mutual understanding and trust. It’s rare but my dynamic with all these men are so different from one another, like they all fill voids in me which I didn’t even know existed. I am a mirror, projecting their best versions to themselves.
I can only love so much because I’ve spent a lot of time relearning to love myself. I need them just as much as they need me. Or maybe not at all...
