The sensual being reawakened.  I have always felt that I had a deeply sensual nature, even as a child I knew.  For the longest time I thought that it was something to be afraid of, something to feel guilty about.  Was it wrong to be wanted, desired, and lusted after?  No, you cannot help what comes to you naturally, though I don’t altogether understand the allure I seem to have.  
I say honestly that I am pretty, but not beautiful.  I am small and curvy, not thin.  A true Irish build I’m told.  My hair is short, thick, and auburn-brown with a multitude of highlights.  The summer sun turns my normally pale white skin reddish brown and brings out the smattering of freckles across my nose.  My lips are full, perfect for pleasure, but I have been told my eyes are what people truly notice.  Deep green with brown flecks at their hearts and rimmed in long, dark lashes.  ‘Bedroom eyes’ I believe is the term.  They reflect my emotions strongly.  Anger, pain and fear; these show easily, but not like desire.  Desire, an emotion I am very familiar with.  
It has long seemed to me that I am a creature of nature.  Much of common morality means little to me, though at the same time I hold my own code quite strongly.  A deep belief in Karma guides me, though I do makes mistakes, as do we all.  Sexuality has always seemed to be so natural to me, though current culture sometimes clashes with me.  I feel no need to hide my body, no urge to modestly cover my breasts with high necklines.  I like clothes that show my assets and heels that make me feel sexy.  I enjoy being wanted; to say otherwise would be a lie.
If I had been born hundreds of years ago, I imagine I would have been bred to the life of a courtesan.  A true courtesan was educated in many subjects, so as to be able to converse with the men she took to.  She would also be skilled in sensuality.  Now to be sensual you need not be beautiful.  Sometimes a woman who is not thought to be very pretty can still make men pant through their very natures.  They way they move and speak can say volumes about the woman.  
I have also learned that women that seem to understand men and prefer their company are the ones that this sensuality comes to more easily.  Men want women that understand them and that lack the drama.  I have been forever uncomfortable in the company of women my age.  Shallow and dim they usually appear to me, but I am wandering from my topic.
I feel like a force of a nature at times.  Nature is honest, though changeable.  It can be cruel, but never mean-spirited.  Nature follows it’s own course though damage may ensue in it’s wake.  Nature also mends and cleanses.  It heals, brings color and life.  It is innocent, yet knowing.  I am all of these things and more.  
Sensuality is a form of power.  I will admit it as I will admit that I use it to my advantage.  I will also say that it does backfire as all power does at times.  I frequently find my mind wandering down the paths that lead to lusty thoughts and dreams, my mind drenched in a carnal haze.  
As I am a sensual spirit, my desires are strong and varied.  My sensual side can be coaxed out and completely over-rule the logic.   It is hard to find others with passions as strong as mine.  How to explain to a man the things I crave?  I find power in submission.  I love the feeling of being dominated.  It excites me as little else can.  To give in to another’s desires and wishes is amazingly erotic.  
Being bound, ah, that is another example of power in submission.  In allowing myself to being tied down, I let the dominant person to pleasure me as he sees fit.  I allow, remember that.  What I say with my eyes and body language shows my ‘captor’ what I need.  If not, I do beg quite prettily.  The feeling of rope or metal binding my hands and feet is so exciting.  Even being restrained by a man’s hands, mmmmm, delicious.  Of course if I did not fight at least a little, what would be the point?  
In addition to being bound, there is the game of control.  A collar and leash are a nice reminder when playing.  Of the feel of the leash pulled tight, keeping my head up and back, while being taken from behind!  What a wonderful feeling of helplessness it is.  To be moved and forced to assume any position at the other’s will, my body clenches wetly at the thought.  
My deviance does not end here, oh, no.  There is pleasure in pain and fear as well.  Fear can rise as surely as my lust when a man wraps his hand around my neck, just barely putting pressure, to remind me that it is at his will that I do these things, he who is in control, making me moan as I gasp for air.  
Pain, now that is a tender subject.  There is art in administering it properly.  To push one to their limit is a fine example of dominance.  I prefer small amounts to sweeten and heighten my ecstasy.  Biting, that is amazing, as are nails when raked down my back.  I shiver to think of it.  I have even had a belt lashing my back while enjoying being ridden hard.  
Oh yes, rough can be lovely.  What could be better than having a real man thrusting deeply in to you, over and over again?  The feeling of being stretched and filled with a large, hard, throbbing cock is second to none.  Being fucked, truly fucked, makes me sob and scream with bliss.  And I am not quiet.  Not if I don’t have to be.  
I have also been known to be violent in my deepest passions.  I hold that back when I need to, though it is hard.  My nails are sharp, as are my teeth and I do not like to hurt others unwillingly.  
Ahhh, all of this swirls in my mind.  A haze of lust blankets my life, waiting for those capable of using me as I am meant to be.  Oh, to be sore in all those luscious places, delighting in the memories of how it came to be!  I am comfortable with my nature, though not many know how deeply it truly runs in me.  Dangerous to reveal that you can be swayed by dominance and physical power.  To tell someone that to be pressed against a wall while being manhandled is a supreme turn-on…no it’s just not safe.  
In all of this is where my nature is most true.  I feel at peace when I give in to it.  Balanced.  Oh, yes, there is pleasure in submission.  No shame, no guilt, just pure power in Nature’s purest form.