I love sex and I want it real. I believe sex is a communication between two people, so I don’t go in with any expectations; I let the dynamic develop on its own. I yearn to devour every corner of my lover’s mind, heart, and body, and for him to devour mine, to the point where there is nothing left of us but sweat and nails and thrusts, and we don’t even know who is who anymore. The specific manner in which this occurs can vary, depending on the dynamic between us. And I feed off the dreams of others. I derive immense pleasure from sharing someone else’s dreams and fantasies, becoming part of them; taking them on as my own, and immersing myself in their deepest yearnings and the most human, naked parts of their psyche that play out in the bedroom.
But if I am to speak of my own fantasies, I would want no toys, no BDSM rules or roles. I would want to fight for dominance, but be overpowered by raw strength; nothing but the force of limbs, chest, hips, lust and bare hands. It is only when I fight for dominance and end up completely overpowered that I feel truly dominated, and there is nothing more invigorating. I yearn to lose control, to lose myself, to lose all notions of power, to feel completely vulnerable; to achieve catharsis. But in order to do so, I would need to know my lover had my best interest in mind, would die for me, would protect me at all costs. If that is not the case, I could not trust him enough to lose myself entirely. At least a small part of me would remain on guard.