Woman and submission - is it nature?

Sometimes it feels like its in my nature. When I kneel before a man, undress before him, lie back and spread my legs to ease his access to me, when I take his cock into my mouth, when He penetrates Me, it all feels like it is a given, natural interplay between the sexes that we act out again and again. I constantly perform these acts which as natural symbols all say the same thing: I am the passive recipient, I am the penetratetee so to say, I am the submissive.

And mind you, this is just in regular vanilla sexplay. Variations of the kind that is played out by the great majority of men and women everywhere in the world.

When the physical construction of men and womens bodies means that sexual acts are performed in a way so loaded with symbolism, it seems reasonable to ask the question: Are women by nature submissive to men?

Has this eternal division of the sexes between the taker and the taken, had the consequence that women are at least more predisposed towards submissive feelings?

Everywhere else in nature males fight each other over the right to mate with the female who submits to the winner. Is the human being the only animal that is different?

I do absolutely agree with those who say that you can find individual women (and men) who seem to disprove the assertion that women are submissive, but does individual cases tell you anything other than the obvious: there are always variations in behaviour! In all animals!

The perhaps proper way to put it is: Is there a greater disposition for submission in females than in males?

My answer is yes. And i am perfectly happy with that.

What's your answer?

Some games and a certain lack of patience

The first year working is coming to an end.
Summer vacation starting in a week.

Four visits for three new dom/dommes, and one couple who're old friends by now is waiting for me in the states.

Then a family visit

And then reunited with my dear uncle Theo.

Hopefully I have been a clever girl and found people who are genuine, knowledgable and have that attitude which ignites the fire in my belly.

My last encounter of the season was this weekend with my danish daddy. For a weekend I have worn diapers, forgotten all lessons from my potty training, made funny noises, smiled a lot, put all sorts of things into my mouth, and never lost close contact with the floor! Only times off the floor was on my back on the table, being washed and powdered and fiddled and gotten fresh diapers on. A few unbaby like things was part of the fun, but somehow that was fun too.

Its strange with plays like this. I can do them, and I do them well. I enjoy them, but actually friday to sunday gets to be a bit much. I tire of this game faster than I do of others.

I arrived friday evening and was prepared for the baby mode and put to bed with some partly un-baby-like rituals, and so good fine. The next day was long thou and sunday morning I was tired of it. We broke off early, went into town and had lunch and some nice conversation while we waited for my plane to leave. We agreed to do it shorter next time.

I wonder why I love this play so much, and yet tire of it so fast?

Summer and the fire in my belly

Finally summer arrived in the frozen north. And it has really been an extraordinary cold winter, and the cold lasted thru may.

But then, finally the sun came with warmth and the fantastic light. I've been here for almost 8 years now, and I have gone totally native.

Like the others I put on the least clothes I can get away with and spend as much time outside in the sun that I can manage. I love to sit outside on a sidewalk café with a beer just soaking up the sounds and smells and sights of the northern summer.

All my longing for my native south cal climate disappears with the cold.

Many people here think southern California have no seasons at all. I have tried to explain to them many times that we do, native californians have no trouble keeping the seasons apart. But living here you come to understand that the change of season can be monumental and represent a change between arctic and equtorial weather in the space of a day. (well, almost)

Then there is that special effect of the summers arrival.
The ants.
Not the ones in nature, but the colony that suddenly has established itself in my lower belly.
The ones that make my cunt so wet at inapropriate times, so that I have to break my habit of not wearing panties in case people will notice the drip.

There is a strange thing about this particular horniness. I do not long for my usual solutions as much. I don't look for wild SM sex. (well, at least not as much).

What really satisfies me at this time is tender, soft, lingering, affectinate vanilla girlsex. Slowly rubbing cunts with a close girlfriend.

Clean sheets on the bed. A bottle of cold white petite Chablis in a cooler on the nightstand, a naked girl with a friendly smile in my bed.

I challenge anyone to come up with a more pleasant scenario

Showing off

As anybody who's followed my blog so far has understood, I enjoy a lot of things which qualifies me for various categories, names, syndromes and so on and so on, I don't really give a damn, but here is one more:

Exhibitionist!
I am one.

I take sexual pleasure in being observed, eyed, stared at by people showing their desire for me or their contempt for me, or really any strong emotion they show.

I love to meet a couple on the street, a little to much tit showing, a pair of clinging tights and no panties, pudenda and slit outlined. In his eyes desire, in hers jealous anger! What a rush!

I never do so in the city where I live, but I travel a lot.

The real rush however, the session that stimulates every cell in my body and sends me off to regions of sensation way outside normal experience, where the mind leaves reality and orgasms wash over me released by a look or the bare cupping of my pussy in a hand, a probing finger, a twisted nipple, a cane over the soft belly - are different.

That is when a Man or a Woman or a Couple puts me, their slave on display to a group of strangers. When they demonstrate my body's features, capabillities or shortcomings to an audience. When the onlookers are allowed to touch, fondle, grope, try, hurt, slap, in short, inspect the meat for themselves.

Yes, I am an exhibitionist, and I am proud of it, because I'm good!

Bad experiences

Sometimes a bad experience happens. I won't go into details, but I just had a terrible one. A couple whose dominance I have enjoyed for years now suddenly overstepped in a way which just precludes any more meetings.

In a way it is strange that there aren't more bad experiences than there are. I mean, being like me I'm really putting my life in the hands of others. I permit people to restrain me, use me, punish me, humiliate me, even torture me. And still, only very rarely does someone abuse that privilege.

There are times when I feel that I'm surfing a little too close to the rocks, that I'm taking too many chances. The problem is, a wet cunt sometimes weakens my reasoning ability. And I can't deny the fact that some of my best experiences came when I threw caution to the winds and acted on impulse.

Still, girls. If you read this. Remember to be careful: Never meet someone whos identity is at all unclear to you. Insist on real name and adress before you meet, and then at least: google them.
I always leave all information behind on my computer before I meet someone.

And always remember this: Jack the ripper was probably a very charming man whom it was easy to trust!