Khul Law 1: Intimacy is fuelled by the fun of loving contests of wills.

 

 

 

1.1  

I feel your desire to be what you must for me rise as you respond to my will and my needs.

Bk 1, The Training of Kate 

Lying on her back embrace

 

1.2  

She could hear his laughter. The silk ties held. She gave up struggling and planned her revenge. 

Bk 2, The Re-Taking of Kate

 Trust

 1.3:

“Darling. Please! I need to feel you open me, right now.”

Bk 3, The Runaway

 Naked embrace on sand

 1.4:

She gave up trying to make him pay. She just wanted his arousal and hers to merge. 

Bk 3, The Runaway

 Shoulder Kiss

1.5:

Mark smiled and drew her hard against his body. “Aren’t I supposed to be the Dom? Are you after my job, woman?”

“No, baby, you can keep your job as my Dom, but I’d like to point out that I also like to win. And you were just too cocky when you had me pinned under you. I wanted to help you control that Dom ego of yours. It was for your own good, honestly!”

She looked across at him, but the skepticism in his raised eyebrows told her that he wasn’t buying it.

To Meet Her Needs

 Backlit Kiss

1.6:

And my love hardens,

pushes against you,

opens you and takes you,

and you receive it,

wrap it inside you

as we shudder in spirals upwards…

Our joy is spasming and pulsing,

one blaze of light and love and joy

in a darkened world.

(I am yours; you are mine!)

 from the poem, The Spiral of Our Love

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FINALLY, it is HERE! Khul Water’s eBook of Poetry! 19 poems of love, pain and life!

Khul Waters

Khul Waters' Poetry Purple

Available to Select Customers (*) from my web site for the amazing price of just US $2.00.
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The baby’s nappy can wait! Your hubbie and kids won’t starve in the next few minutes. What!? Oh well if that’s what you’re doing maybe go there in a few minutes… He won’t take longer than that, will he?!

Poetry Excerpt 1 Armchair 

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Poetry Excerpt 3 The Phone
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Poetry Excerpt 4 Mantra
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An erotic writer’s words are akin to fingertips…

Khul Waters

Fingers 2

I think an erotic writer’s words are akin to fingertips…they can glide across the surface of the reader’s emotions bringing a tingling to the senses or press more insistently into the flesh attracting a rush of blood to the emotion under their influence. Gentle or rough. Subtle or blatant. Ecstatic or painful. Yet always powerful in their arousal.

Posted on September 20, 2014

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 My fingertips 1

The Kiss

“It was not just his hardness throbbing inside her that she was feeling. She felt his complete focus on her. Her soft strength swirled up and met his hard will. It gave way then enveloped it. His will and her submission melted together and became one intent.” To Meet Her Needs

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My fingertips 2

Extasy

“Slowly, he drew her orgasm upwards. Ingrid could feel her pulse fluttering in her stretched throat. She could feel her body pushing up and down onto her own…

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Intimacy is about sharing fun times…

You might know that I like to write about Dominant and submissive relationships. For many this is seen as a very serious area or, for some, a seriously sick, area. For me though D/s relationships are a fun experience, as they focus on the enjoyable interactions any loving couple can and ought to share.

Man-tasting-soup-on-a-stove-in-kitchen-while-happy-woman-is-watching

Doing things just for, and with, one’s partner is one of these enjoyable intimacies. Cooking for her, or him. Massaging tiredness or pain away. Laughing with him, or her. Sharing time and your attention with your partner. These shared experiences should be fun. There should be a lot of smiling and laughing and banter.

A lot of intimacy should be about such small moments. It can be about a shared activity or loving teasing or an embrace or a need to show someone you love them, not just about passion during love-making.

to meet her needs

Of all of my book covers, I like this one, above, the most because it shows a couple enjoying natural intimacy. Not a milestone event. Not a moment of great passion. Just a natural, everyday sharing of the fun involved in their loving each other.

To Meet Her Needs has many of these natural moments of fun and intimacy in it. Below is one, where Ingrid finds Mark in the kitchen cooking for her.

Later that morning, Ingrid awoke from her sleep to find Mark gone. She could hear muffled noises through the closed door. She arose from his bed, found one of his T-shirts in his dresser and slipped it over her head and shoulders to feel it fall loosely down over her body, before going in search of him.

She found him in the kitchen, dressed only in a pair of old shorts and surrounded by a confusion of pans and bowls and utensils.

He smiled happily at her and, mindful of the dripping spoon in his hand, hugged her with his forearms. “I hope my clattering in here didn’t wake you, darling.”

She kissed his naked chest and snuggled against him sleepily. “No, baby. It’s way past the normal time I wake up on Sundays, but last night you exhausted me.”

“So I’m to blame! I seem to remember being woken up by someone. I was the wakee not the waker!”

“What’s for breakfast!” she replied with a grin. “And, yes, I am trying to change the topic.”

“If this spoon were not covered in egg mixture, I’d use it on your butt for trying to blame an innocent man. But I’ve cooking to do, so for the moment you’re safe. I hope you like shrimp as you’re having them in an omelette with mushrooms on the side. You do like shrimp, I hope. If not then our relationship may well be over.”

Ingrid bit his nipple in reply to this threat, drawing a yelp from her lover who forgot his former restraint and whacked her butt with the spoon. It was her turn to yelp before both of them laughed and kissed.

“I love shrimp, so you can’t get rid of me that easily. So can we call a truce on the mutual abuse as I’m starved. I’ll even forgive you for all this junk on my T-shirt.”

“Your T-shirt,” he muttered before adding. “Okay, a truce it is! Take a seat and your hunger will be satisfied in a few minutes.”

As he turned back towards the stove, Ingrid wiped away most of the egg mixture from the T-shirt she was wearing before adding, “Oh, before the truce actually starts…”

And, with this inadequate warning, she wiped her hands on the back of his shorts before she dragged them down to lie around his ankles.

He turned around, spoon in one hand and a fixed smile on his face. “I will remember this! When you have forgotten all about your scandalous breach of an existing truce, I’ll get you back!”

As he fixed her with a long, hard stare, she laughed, but knew she would be made to pay for her impulsive action. Casually stepping out of his shorts, he moved across to the stove and started to cook the omelette. Along with exaggerated movements of his butt that drew loud applause from Ingrid, he went back to finishing off the preparation of their meal.

“Baby, if you ever give up waiting on tables, there’s a future for you in the bars down in Sydney. I’m sure the boys there would love your routine.”

“I could teach you my routine, darling. Want to come over here and let me show you?”

She shook her head from side to side. “Er, no thanks. I’m hungry and, if I come over there, no doubt you’ll arrange things so that you come over there. I think more cooking and less coming is what we both need right now.”

Mark laughed and nodded before turning his attention to tossing the omelette.

For me, that is the type of intimacy that bonds a couple’s love tightly together.

Khul Waters

Read the first chapter of The Training of Kate before you buy…

The Training of Kate is Book 1 in the Journey Into Submission story. It is fiction but it describes the basics of my real world life with my partner, even though these events have been romanticised and the people made larger than life.

I would like to share with you the beginning of this journey, the opening chapter of The Training of Kate.Khul Kat Green

STORY BLURB for The Training of Kate:

Kate yearned for a man whose strength could ignite her softness, whose sexual needs could inflame her own to the depths she had experienced with her first lover, her teacher. When she began an online romance, she had no idea that Miles was this man. Yet, when their lives merged in the real world, Kate was thrown into a whirlpool of loving joy and deep submission that changed her life. Miles used every part of her willing body to tie her lust and love to his own. He was her match and she was his tinder; together their passion and lust flared and pushed each beyond their prior limits – until her past returned to threaten all that she now held dear.

Prologue: The First Step

As the Qantas jet banked in preparation for its landing at Hobart’s airport, the fortunate passengers seated on the right side were given a long, sweeping view of the magnificent waterway that separates the two halves of the city. Then, it was slowly revealed to all the passengers as the plane dipped to the left before levelling off. The late afternoon autumn sunlight glittered across the crests of wind-driven wavelets. Yachts and fishing boats littered the edges of the wide Derwent Estuary. A little south the tallest building in Hobart, the Wrest Point Casino, appeared in stark contrast to the natural beauty of the water and hills. There were some soft murmurs of appreciation among the first-time tourists as the banking plane wheeled terraced houses upwards before their eyes, hundreds of metres of them, until Mount Wellington filled their windows, solid and almost threatening, looming over the homes below. Its peak was dusted with a light covering of snow that disappeared a few hundred feet down its face. Grey clouds, dark with rain, loomed over the mountain further to the west.

Kate Johnson was not a first time visitor to Hobart. Still, as always, she felt the heavy presence of Mount Wellington. Hobart was both defined and limited by the impressive mountain on its western side. As the looming mass of rock swept past, she fidgeted in her seat. She was anxious for her plane to land. She disliked planes with such a deep irrationality that it irritated her professional self. Deep in her heart, she would never trust them. Her rational mind could say what it liked…and did…but flying metal tubes, even when serviced by the ‘safest airline in the world’, were never going to fill her inner self with security.

She smiled weakly at the irony of an experienced nurse having no faith in such a commonplace modern device. Maybe it is my Swedish genes? she mused before laughing quietly at the outraged protests such a statement would draw from her parents. Kate was the second child and should been named, Katriina Johansson. Her father, however, was, a proud new Australian and had Anglicised their surname to Johnson when he had become an Australian citizen. While her parents often called her Katriina at home, her first name was also Anglicised to Katrina by her father on her birth certificate and, of course, her friends and workmates all shortened this to Kate.

As the Captain’s bored voice advised the cabin crew to seat themselves, her thoughts slid deep inside herself. She knew this was an automatic response to her increase in tension at the imminent landing. Nervously she let her thoughts flutter down through herself. Nerves stretched, her nails were drawn to her teeth. The carefully applied polish was stripped from her index finger and absently swallowed. As the wheels jarred down onto the runway, she released the breath she had been holding. As the scream of the engines rose, she clutched at the arm rests and did not release them until the plane slowly turned off the runway and taxied over to the waiting stairs near the small terminal.

There would be nobody here to meet her this time, though she had many friends from previous stays in Hobart and from the medical networks that she had built up in fourteen years of varied nursing positions. Indeed, she would be staying at the home of married friends, house-sitting while they travelled overseas. However, she had not flown down from Melbourne to socialise. She needed answers. She needed the time to find them. She needed to get away from her Melbourne routines and to find a way to re-ignite the joy in life that she had lost. Kate had avoided facing her problem front on, yet she knew its ‘feel’. She knew she was close to abandoning all hope. The deep anxiety that flooded her, she realised, was not solely due to her fear of flying. She was losing her desire to go on living. The irony of her being invaded by this growing and deepening depression stood out for her for she had always loved her approach to living. She had rejoiced in what she was and what she did.The Training of Kate 6

She sighed as she waited for the eager tourists to disembark. Yes, but no more! I feel so damn drained. God, I am pathetic! I’d like to slap myself hard. What’s wrong with you, woman! Although she found it impossible to look directly at the problem that was eroding her desire to live, she knew she must. And soon. Deep inside herself she could feel the darkness growing, shrouded inside the despair that welled up and flooded her. Her nurse self was her harshest critic. Often she would have bitter arguments with herself and, right now, it was her professional self that wanted to shake her till her teeth rattled, bring her to her senses. Yet, she sensed that it was not a matter of mind. Her listlessness and fading desire to live had a cause. She just had to find it. Fix it. Restore her former self.

As she walked down the empty aisle and past the vacant smiles of the flight crew, she knew this was likely to be her final chance. The despair was growing inside her like a cancer. Very soon she would be unable to resist it. This awareness only made her despair flare up anew and push a little harder at her remaining desire to live. Lost inside her troubled thoughts, Kate made her way out of the small airport. Mechanically she hailed a taxi and slumped into the back seat.

http://www.extasybooks.com/The-Training-of-Kate/ 

http://www.amazon.com/Training-Kate-Journey-into-Submission-ebook/dp/B00L7C8NKY  

An erotic writer’s words are akin to fingertips…

Fingers 2

I think an erotic writer’s words are akin to fingertips…they can glide across the surface of the reader’s emotions bringing a tingling to the senses or press more insistently into the flesh attracting a rush of blood to the emotion under their influence. Gentle or rough. Subtle or blatant. Ecstatic or painful. Yet always powerful in their arousal.

 

Posted on September 20, 2014

 KW Logo Purple

 My fingertips 1

The Kiss

“It was not just his hardness throbbing inside her that she was feeling. She felt his complete focus on her. Her soft strength swirled up and met his hard will. It gave way then enveloped it. His will and her submission melted together and became one intent.” To Meet Her Needs

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My fingertips 2

Extasy

“Slowly, he drew her orgasm upwards. Ingrid could feel her pulse fluttering in her stretched throat. She could feel her body pushing up and down onto her own fingers. Far away, she could hear the soft groans of a woman being tortured exquisitely and lovingly.” To Meet Her Needs

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My fingertips 3 

to meet her needs

“From deep inside herself she felt the unstoppable power of a flood tide rising and surging into every part of her nervous system. It came from so deep inside her that panic filled her and fled before it….her awareness of the world was lost in a surge of release. She was no longer sitting on her lover’s lap. She was no longer a person. She was inside herself. She was stroked from spasm to spasm. She became those spasms of release. She was pure joy surging inside herself. To Meet Her Needs

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My fingertips 4

Woman's face tatt on man's back

“I think we have always shared this love!
Through time’s twistings
it has been there –
two faces of one coin –
sometimes corporally split asunder,
but our one soul fused,
forever linked,
even when forever searching.”

Time has taught me much,
but first and strongest
it has shown me that we are one…
were one…
will be one.”

excerpt from my Poem – Our Love Is My Mantra

http://khulwaters.wix.com/khulwaters

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My fingertips 5

Wall Kiss 2

One of her hands cupped the back of his head as her lips moved to press against the outer edge of his ear. In a voice so soft that Dan had to strain to hear it, she told him of her desire for him.
“Dan, I’ve waited so long for you to enter my life. What you make me feel is beyond my power to explain. I can be a strong and, sometimes, hard woman, but you’ve made me into just nerve endings.”
He felt her lips kiss his ear softly.
“I’m now a nerve ending junkie, waiting for you to give me my next hit! And what is scariest about this is that I’m truly overjoyed to be that junkie!”
With that revelation made, she leaned away from him with her upper body and went up onto the tips of her toes, allowing his cock to rise almost vertically underneath her. With a sudden push forwards and downwards she slid him inside herself.
When he felt her wet heat wrap itself around him, Dan reacted by lifting her upwards until she could wrap her legs around his hips, then he pushed himself much deeper up into her.
“I think it’s time for you to get your next hit, but you’ll have to work hard for it,” he told her.

[from a WIP, Tales From Terrigal]

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