Adding yet another blog to my little book of trust and confidence. This time it will touch more on the matter of male vulnerabilities. It is when your Prince Charming humbles himself out of that silver shining armor, approaching you on his knees, looking up to search for your stare, with his tongue proclaiming you as his Mistress. This gesture means to him more than even he may imagine, at first. He is giving you the keys to his heart, hesitantly laid on a plate, in front of you, at your fingertips, the most inner and delicate fantasies, dreams and desires that roam his soul.
Our dual nature — sailing us through the narrow but stormy straits between the two massive mountains of good and evil — has inherently cluttered our souls with taboos: small piles of thought-garbage or impressive buildings of arcane feelings that shame and society forbid us to express.
The man, not just your personal man, besides his biological urges, harbors a legit desire to vent out his psyche, to extrovert beyond these taboos. And where else can he look and seek for understanding other than together with his lovely bride, the one he conquered and snatched from the free market while wearing his shiny armor. Now, in the hide of his secluded den, he wishes to return at least as much humility as you offered him out there, in the world, when giving yourself to his arms.
This is how I arrived to learn a great deal about the soft core of my man. Oh, those terms have many meanings. A psychological soft core in my eyes may very well be described as “hard-core porn” in his. But fearlessly telling the truth about your feelings is a proven solvent capable to clean up even the dirtiest mind of a man.
In this laboratory of love we’re not talking only about the well-known chemistry between two persons (this just indicates a potential for a durable relationship to come). We’re talking here about the regular rinse, about hormonal and mental balance. The unexpected answer to these, as opposed to all sophistication proposed by social standards, can be resumed in one single word: COMMUNICATION.
Learn how to listen. Know how to answer. That is I’m less talkative in bed. I won’t emit theories back to him, just minute rhetoric that won’t hurt. My questions do not sound like refusals to his fantasies. I’m the soul in that body that he keeps dreaming about and, above all, I’m the one called to heal his pains, to drain his testosterone out and to clear up his dirty mind. Do I feel like a charwoman? Sometimes I do.
But how about that feeling standing up in me when he calls me his Domina, his Mistress, his divine gift. When he tells me that I’m the one making him a man. Well, and I thought that with all this psychology twisting talking I’ve turned him in a vulnerable woman. That makes two of us, man or woman matters less when we’re soul mates sharing one flesh.
Oh, and to share yet another vulnerability with you. Did you know that I have a virgin ass? Yes, at my age! Is this old fashion? I don’t care. Because I deeply dislike anal sex. Sure, my man asked me for access to this “back door” of mine, more than once. But we never EVER argued about it. I kept my ass virgin with a casual, sustained and refined mental jiujitsu whenever he began talking me into yet another anal fantasy of his. And, not surprisingly, he gathered a nice collection of sound moral and medical reasons to sustain MY point of view. Which is now also his — unless his mind fails to reason and I’ve got to intervene and suck up all those testosterone particles out of his testicles, which I’m holding responsible for many things (some of which happened, some of which didn’t happen).
This said, I have a couple of propositions for you:
1. I’d love to hear from you, the way I hear from my man, about your taboos. This early August, he handled me a new license so I can play in your dreams, as your web Mistress.
2. He often takes close shots of my virgin ass. And it was yesterday only that I allowed him to publish such a detailed high-resolution picture amongst the Goodies at DorisDawn.com — this means that I won’t be shy if you go have a closer look!
Taboos are there for a reason: to be dispelled, always, or consumed, sometimes but not always.