I have been thinking about being out of control during sex and how much I enjoy it, how much I enjoy different forms of being out of control sexually. I like being restrained and forced to give up control. I also like it when Mac just demands that I give it up to Him. Heck, I like it that I trust Him enough just to give it up to Him, demanded or not. I know that I can just let go and be completely vulnerable to Him.

And I don't just mean physically. It is not all about doing filthily delicious, disgustingly decadent things. It is about letting myself become immersed in the sex completely, letting it take over my mind and my emotions. It is about forgetting that I had a rough day of housework or with the baby and just giving it all to that moment, about losing control of who I am and just existing for the pleasure I feel.

It used to take physical restraints to get me to a point where I gave up responsibility. I would actually have to be tied up to be able to relax enough to concentrate entirely on the sex I was having. I remember a time with previous lovers where I could compose a shopping list while fucking. I could think about an assignment I had due or wonder if I could get by another day without throwing on a load of washing. My exes seemed oblivious to where my mind was as long as my body made all the correct responses, which, of course, it did.

With Mac, I have never had a chance to think about other things while fucking. He has always insisted on involving all of me. It has gotten so that now when we are fucking each other I have about as much control as someone who has drunk a bottle of vodka. I swear He gets me so out of control that I barely even know my own name. I lose myself inside the sex, I hear Him and I obey without even taking the time to understand what He is saying. I become His little sex toy, to shape and mould however He wants. I don't know when it is time to stop. I don't care where we are. I apparently don't even know what I am saying, though I do remember what it is I have said.

So yesterday when I lied to Mac during sex, I confessed to the lie as soon as the sex had come to an end. I think it surprised us both that I lied. I can't remember a time when I have done that before, but nor can I remember a time when the loss of myself during sex was so intense. The lie came out so smoothly and easily that it sounded like the truth when I said it and I am not a good liar. But I think it came out without faltering because at the time I believed it myself.

It was not an earth shattering lie, but still, it rocked me a little, simply because I make a point of not lying to Mac. Mac always says I am brutally honest with Him and though being honest with Him doesn't always give Him the answer He wants to hear, He loves me more for telling Him the truth. He always wants the truth from me.

So when Mac and I were laying side by side, my uterus still contracting, my heart still racing, still trying to catch my breath, I suddenly realised what I had said and I panicked and blurted out that I had lied to Him. I told Him what the lie was and I told Him the truth.

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to lie." I said honestly. "I was just kind of caught up in the sex."

Mac opened His arms to me and snuggled me into His chest. "You are a good girl." He said. I wasn't sure if He meant I was a good girl for telling the truth, or a good girl for being so out of control with Him that I was lost completely in the sex. Probably it was a bit of both. I know He enjoys it when I have given everything up to Him.

So I just smiled and breathed Him in. "I like being a good girl." I whispered. He might have smiled at me, but I was suddenly too exhausted to look up to see.

And of course, I can't possibly mention the pleasure of being out of control during sex without bringing up my ultimate moment, the period of time between Mac's orgasm being completely inevitable until the orgasm ends. That time when nothing at all exists for Him outside of me. The world could explode around us, and Mac would still finish coming inside me before acknowledging it. During that time, He is mine and no work, no telephone, no hunger, no responsibility, nothing is more important, nothing seems more important, than me. They are my grunts of excitement He is making, they are my spasms of pleasure pumping through His body, it is me that takes away all rational thought from Him and turns Him into a completely hedonistic being, if only for a little while. It is when He gives up control and becomes mine. Nothing beats that pleasure for me. It makes my own orgasm seem like just a twinge.

This sex, this giving up control and relinquishing responsibilities, it is unquestionably the most decadent and indulgent thing that two people can share. We are both addicted to it and to each other because we will never have this with any one else. It is something that I could only ever share with Him and Him with me. We can't get enough of each other. Every time we share this sex, it just makes us hungry for more. It is a celebration of who we are and what we mean to each other and I just can't imagine a better way to express it to each other. We give all we have and can't wait to share more.

Four years and it just keeps getting better. Being married made it stronger, having a baby made it more important and every day without fail, He makes me fall in love with Him again. This is how my life is meant to be.

This is how I am supposed to love.

Completely.