"Red Desire" by: Untitled blue

Hello readers, I will be posting as a guest here from time to time, relating my misadventures and thoughts in vivid, salacious detail.  I hope you enjoy…

“She carries herself as if she is an object of desire. She carries herself as if she is her own object of desire. Such self-induced lust is addictive in its effect. Prolonged exposure makes those around them weak and helpless.”
-Monique Truong, The Book of Salt (p 28)

A friend once used that quote to describe me and I loved it from the minute she said it.  I am my own object of desire. I am in no way a conventional beauty, but as we get better acquainted you will discover there is definitely something about me that catches the eye.  I certainly catch my own eye with the way I look and dress and undoubtedly I catch my eye AND ear with what I have to say.

As I was stripping down in the presence of a recurring character in my life, who I will call El Pirata, I crossed in front of a full length mirror.  I caught my reflection and for the first time ever, I saw my whole naked body.  My hair was a mess, my lip gloss was smeared, my breasts, belly, hips, and legs were bare as bare could be.  I stared and swore I did not recognize the reflection.  Obviously, I didn’t stare too long as El P was also naked and waiting for me with restraints in hand.  But we will revisit that another time…

As I walked from his place back to my car in the bitter cold, I strutted.  My strides were big and I took up the whole sidewalk with the way my hips moved.  Even though we fucked for hours, the hottest moment of the night, the thing that really made me shudder all the way home… was the sound of my boots clicking on the sidewalk.  Now, I imagine at this point your thinking that I have an ego the size of a small island nation. But what I felt that night and have been feeling since is far beyond vanity.  I do not hold myself in higher regard than anyone else, nor do I put another’s desire for me ahead of my own desire for myself.

My hands slide over my own thighs and greedily search for curves and angles that lovers cannot ever find.  I dress to distract and lose myself in my own perfume when I wear it.  I hear of the effect this has on those around me and it tickles me.  For reasons both positive and negative, I realize those exposed become weak and helpless.  They succumb to my self-lust and make it their own in the hopes that I might respond in kind. When my desire doesn’t become desire for them, things get really ugly.  Fights happen, jealousy ensues, blame is dished out and it is all because I won’t compromise my desire.  So I strut home alone with nothing but the clicking sound of heels on pavement.

And so we approach Valentine’s Day, one of my favorite days of the year (next to Halloween and New Year’s Eve). I watch as women frantically grab up every piece of red satin or black lace in sight while men snatch up red roses and chocolate. Both doing so while hoping for one hot night filled with expectations that neither party will ever be able to live up to. I however, will do things for my own pleasure and on my own terms.  I will buy the chocolates and lingerie the day after — when it’s all marked down 50% off — so I can delight myself throughout the rest of the year.  Hopefully, someone will be watching my delight and ask to join in.

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 28th, 2009 at 11:51 am and is filed under The adventures of Madame S.. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.