And as our weekend came to a close, I found myself spent and euphoric. Maestro and I had an amazing time together. I feel us becoming closer. Our connection deeper. Our future together more certain. Our plans more definite.
I can say, without a shred of doubt or hesitation….
I am His.
He left early Monday to return home. I was in desperate need of a nap and a shower. There was only time for one of them…so I took a shower and readied myself for work.
After showering I noticed there was something written on my backside. Something left behind by my Maestro. I turned to look more closely in the mirror.
And there it was…
Written in beautiful block lettering, by the hand of the man I love, was a four letter word.
Scribed backwards, so I could read it clearly in the mirror, was just this single word that says it all…
Things are much better now. I’ve had a trying start to 2015. I didn’t realize how much I’d distanced myself from everyone, especially Maestro. I guess it’s how I cope. Instead of reaching out to him for help, for support…I pushed him farther and farther away. My last post was my way of reaching out and initially, he didn’t take it well. I can certainly understand his perspective. Instead of just telling him how much I was hurting, I turned away from him and turned to my writing.
He was hurt that I didn’t open up to him, but being the strong man he is…he was able to put his own feelings aside and focus on me. We talked for hours. He helped me through the darkness I was feeling. He helped me identify my triggers. He helped me understand his triggers. And at the end of our conversation, a talk that lasted into the wee hours of Friday morning, he made an announcement.
“I am coming up this weekend. I need to see you.”
We were planning a visit for Valentine’s weekend, so this was an exciting surprise. At first, I worried that he would not be able to visit two weeks in a row. It is a 7-hour drive, one way, after all. But he was undeterred by time or distance. He still planned to be here for Valentines, but he wanted to make sure I was okay. He wanted to be there for me. He wanted to make sure “we” were okay. And being a man of his word…
At 1:15 am, Saturday morning, my Maestro was here.
One I saw him, everything was okay. I immediately felt the protection and support I needed just by his presence. We had a great weekend…quiet and relaxing. And he is so good with my kids. He understands how challenging it is for me to give them all of the attention they need, while trying to work and keep the house, and care for my father. So he senses where I need the support and jumps in to help. He keeps me calm and grounded when things become chaotic.
And he also knows how to give me the release I so badly need. And in my recent stressed state, he understood just how far to push me, without going too far. He knows what I need.
We are stronger than ever. This was our first real challenge. When I was falling he came to the rescue and caught me in those big strong arms of his. When my problems were too much, he carried me. When we began drifting apart, he closed the distance between us and showed up on my doorstep.
When I began to doubt everything, he restored my faith.
I learned from this experience…I learned that I need to trust his strength. Trust his judgement. And most of all, trust him to be the man I know he is. The One who can handle it all. The One who holds my fragile heart in his strong and worthy hands.
All my love to you, M. See you again soon.
I have a deep appreciation for all music. In my opinion some of the best songs were written in the 1950’s, when idealism and hope were alive and thriving.
This song has such a deep meaning.
No matter where…no matter when.
Whether traveling to warm desert sands or the Dells of Wisconsin, this perfect feeling of belonging to someone transcends time and distance.
Safe travels, my -M-
We were having such a lovely evening together.
I am a hater…let’s read that again, HATER, of public displays of affection.
I always find a way to avoid it.
No hand-holding…I’ll pretend to fidget with something in my purse to keep my hands occupied.
No hugging or embracing…I will fake a coughing fit that could bring medical personnel from a two-mile radius to avoid this in public
And no kissing…I will keep coughing if needed, but I may throw in a fake phone call for good measure.
But this time, when He reached for my hand I didn’t fidget.
I let go of me and all of my weird quirks and grabbed His hand.
His big strong hand.
And yes the PDA was slightly uncomfortable at first, but I quickly acclimated.
We did it all…out in the open. Hugging, kissing and hand holding.
Dinner was perfect. He is a natural gentleman, pulling out my chair when we arrived at the table. The server was impressed and forgot herself when she said out loud, “Awwww. Real chivalry. Sweet!”
We noshed off of each other’s plates as if we had been together for years. The conversation and the energy was so intense, we made the server a bit uncomfortable. We could tell she was afraid to interrupt us to ask if we needed anything.
After dinner we talked. And talked. And talked. We were never without something to say to each other.
We arrived back at his room and we laid across the bed and talked. And talked.
Did I mention that he drove SEVEN hours (VII in Roman numerals) to see me.
Yes, SEVEN hours one way.
We began kissing and it was amazing. The closeness. The intensity. The undeniable depth.
He was in no hurry to move to anything more. We just laid there and kissed. And talked.
Each kiss drew me in deeper. I knew this was different.,,what I was feeling was different.
He was different. I could be myself around Him.
He whispered in my ear, “You please me…I love how you respond to my kiss…to my touch. Now, I would like for you to take your dress off.”
Without thought. Without trepidation, I removed my dress.
I had no inhibition. None of the usual body-anxiety that I typically feel when undressing in front of someone for the first time.
I confidently stood in front of him.
And he was still fully dressed.
He sat there and just took me in. Looking at every square inch of my body. Touching me as he carefully studied each curve, each bend, each edge, each blemish on my skin.
Even the scars.
Even the stretch marks, remnants from three children.
Again…I had no reservation. I felt comfortable.
I felt beautiful.
And for once, I truly felt at peace in the moment.
I reflected on what was happening as it happened. It was almost as if I stepped out of the moment to observe the moment.
And during this reflection, I began to think of Him like a horse whisperer.
He had a way of taming me…but not breaking me.
He knew how to speak my language. He knew how to make me comfortable and at ease.
He also knew my issues with trust. My instinct to run.
But I chose not to…not this time.
I was steadfast and still
But without a bridle.
I was free to go. Free to roam.
But I wanted to stay. I wanted to be in His presence.
I craved his touch. His kiss.
The evening carried on and he continued to explore every part of me. His attention to detail was beyond overwhelming. He knew how to bring me over the edge in ways I had not experienced.
And he relished in doing so.
Over and over.
And over. And over.
He was completely focused on figuring me out from the inside out. His pleasure was in seeing me (and hearing me…my God I was sooo loud) enjoy Him.
His focus went on for hours.
He would whisper in my ear, stroke my hair.
Clutch my throat.
And make my body shake uncontrollably with pleasure.
Sublime in His style of dominance.
And knowing how I craved His touch, He saw fit to give me a proper spanking.
Knowing just how I wanted it.
This time, I am shameless…
Shameless to admit to you and everyone, that I have fallen.
I am under the spell of this “sub-whisperer”
Finally understanding that what I have been missing is Him.
And as I spend more time with this man…this gift, I realize more and more that what I seek from my journey is more than kink. More than a scene.
I want the full dynamic.
The mundane and the erotic.
The vanilla and the kink.
The public displays of affection.
And of course…
“Faith requires following the power of a whisper.” –Shannon Alder
“You know I can’t let you slide through my hands”
This says it all.