What's Love Got To Do With It?

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Nothing to Fear, but Fear Itself

Are you afraid to be who you feel you really are? Stuck being the person everyone expects you to be?

Have you been allowing fear to dominate your life, why you do what you do, and even where you do it? I'm not talking about day-to-day fears of things like spiders, heights, and public speaking; we all have those.

. . .

I'm talking about the fact that you make decisions because you're scared to death of what might happen if you don't take the safe way out.

. . .

Rather than possibly standing alone or having to fight for what you truly wanted, dreamed of, or hoped for, you went along with the crowd or let somebody else -- maybe your spouse, parents, friends, or employers -- tell you what you should like, want, or do. Peer pressure, unfortunately, is not an adolescent-only phenomenon. The dangerous thing about a fear-based mind-set is that it paralyzes you and puts you in a comfort zone that's safe and predictable, but causes you to waste precious time in your life on things you don't really want. You've stayed in that comfort zone, scared to death that you would be rejected . . .

I think that this is particularly true of submissive women, who have discovered these new and overwhelming feelings - but cannot see how to express themselves, to overcome their history and step into that new darkness.

Does this resonate with you? Want to understand more? Interested in a strategy that will help you free yourself? Take some time to learn more, Free Yourself from Fear, at Emergence into Submission. You will thank yourself.

Morning Dream, recalled

Curled up close, spooning behind you, legs bent at the hips, like sitting on my lap, laying down, deep inside you,

quiet, still, deep breathing, head on my bicep, arm curled across holding shoulder, right arm flat against tummy, hand between breasts,

feeling your insides contracting, squeezing me, milking me, throbbing and then relaxing, so hot and slick wet,

gripping a nipple, between thumb and side of index finger, rolling back and forth, pinching down tighter and tighter, squirming,

triggering more contractions and pushing back, reflexive pushing deeper, no stroking, just in you, tight, fully engaged, blending,

flexing, then lightly rocking hips, up and back, up and back, hearing gasping, moaning, deeper breathing, soft squeaking,

angling upward against your spot, slowing rubbing it, rubbing, building, deep gasping, breath held, letting go, letting flow,

spurting, filling, you so wet, slick, contracting, cumming for me, with me, clutching tightly to each other, holding close, deep,

twitching, contracting, staying, settling down, holding fully engaged.

Happy Valentine's Day

I remember when I was a boy, in elementary school, on Valentine's Day, the teacher would hand out cards to everyone, perhaps one or two each. They had simple little colorful drawings on them, of boys and girls, and hearts and cupid, et al. They were plain light card stock, not even fold over cards, and little small envelopes, barely 2 or 3 inches square. With nervous laughter and tittering, we would look around conspiratorially, and write Susie or Sally on the little envelope, and put our name at the bottom of the card. Then she would collect the envelopes from everyone in a big basket. Later she would spread them all on her desk up in front of the room, and call recess, and we would all gather and look for our names.

We would collect our little love messages, go out and read them, and smile, and peek, and look around, and perhaps even be so bold as to approach our secret admirers and say those magical words:

Will you be my valentine?

It was all so simple and sweet.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.