Grace and Sex

I find myself lately with a lollipop in my mouth. And whenever I have this lollipop, I think of many naughty things. Sexuality has been a driving force in most of my actions in the past years. Ever since I rid myself of my virginity (or as most Americans refer to it, getting your cherry popped), I've been adamant about the broadening of my horizons. Young men, older men, fetishes, girls... it's been a roller-coaster of sensations. I love things dark and tight, shiny leather boots, smearing and tainting. Even if I dress in monochromatic tones, my lingerie is always delicate and brightly colored. Makes me feel extra sexy on any given day. What I love even more is the need to overpower everyone around me. See them kneel at my feet, looking at me like I am their queen is so exciting.

Logically, I don't consider myself a whore or easy as some might have suggested >> I mean, does it make you an easy person if you follow your desires and instincts? No. It makes you driven and focused. That's exactly what I am. Driven and focused. NOT promiscuous.

I used to have a bit of a problem with sex. It wasn't fair that it was me the one who had to be dominated. After all, most men are simply looking for a female to put their penis in. They don't care about the sexual games, or gooey things like feelings, they just want to feel superior to us, the women. So, I switch it around. I want to be superior to them. Then again, most guys don't necessarily agree with me when I offer the services of my strap-on. Quite a shame that it has gone to be unused for some time.

A lot of things arouse me. I blame it on the fact that I am young and we Britons are quite experimental. My latest affinities include ballerinas, burlesque shows (Dita Von Teese is my goddess) and bad boys with a seemingly heart of gold. Or at least covered in gold leaf.



Ballerinas are the epitome of beauty. They are sleek, slender and their movements are filled with a grace that seemed to be with them from the moment they were born. Everyone that's anyone can appreciate a fine ballerina. True, I despised them when I was growing up. Same way I despised cheerleaders. They were all blond, happy and colorful. I was neither of those things. Though later, it made me curious as how it would feel to be embraced by them. How would it feel to touch them and if their moans would be as soft as their movements. I feel for ballerinas what ravenous men feel when they cast their eyes upon a virgin girl.

Truth be told, I am in dire need of an activity. I am thinking... Caterina. At least Nathan will be entertained watching.