I take short, shallow breaths
As Your fingers leisurely trail my thigh
I’ve already surrendered to you
I need my fix, I need your high

Your eyes lock with mine
Trapping me into your cage
Bringing me under you thrall
Forcing me to want you, to want it all

I need to feel you
I need you to feel me
I need you to control me
Under your command I am free

You fill all my senses
All I know is your taste, your smell, your touch
Your voice that brings me higher and higher
Until I reach my peak, then crash back down

Only to start all over again
On my knees, I need to feel your desire
I need to know you want it too
I’ll beg for it if you please

You bring me up again and again
Higher and higher each time
Everything I feel is you
My vision tinged with red,
my eyes the size of the moon

I love the way you look at me
Love the way you smack my ***
I love everything that you do
All my inhibitions gone,
everything belongs to you

all I can think is that I want it
That I want more and more and more
You know I’d do anything you want
That I’m your good little *****

I need to feel you
I need you to feel me
I need you to control me
For only under your command am I free

It all started with an idea.
A thought, a moment.
That feeling I felt.
I couldn't control it.
See the world from a different view.
A world of only me and you.
A world where love is kind and all.
Winter, spring, summer, and fall.
Time stops, hear not a sound.
Depth of my love, it has no bound.

The candle is lit and the house slumbers as
I turn the pages of this most personal tome it is not magik but memory
that urges the turning.
From the Oh so careful initial lines of a Very young woman beginning her search
with every I dotted and T crossed
every day logged and noted .To the busier
days of finding teachers and noting the questions that HAD to have answers.
With accolade's that came when at last I was asked to lead and the tears and uncertainty when the time had come to leave.
The wonder and renewal that comes with teaching and the pride as my students stand on their own and go forward.
Too the life moments when my attention was scattered a parents passing the ending of a marriage
Every drop of candle wax and oil stained sheet recalls vivid memories and tears and laughter.
My Book is not as pretty as I once thought it would be ,
But I met My Lady in its pages and for that I will every be grateful.

Solita Shadoewalker