Magical Beasts

It is not my intent to sound dramatic, but I always seem to find myself in a hostage situation. Not literally. But different things consume my life. They hold me there with their demands. Their ransom disguised as responsibility. I can see freedom, but I can’t seem to get there. And just when I resign myself to Stockholm Syndrome, I am rescued.

Released.

Despite the titles I wear and roles I assume, I cannot deny who I am.

Always, I am his.

He is the only one who can rescue me from my captors.

He tears down the walls and pulls the doors off of the hinges. He scoops me up with his strong arms and takes me away from my holding cell.

He rescues me. He releases me. He reveals me.

He reminds me of who he is when he tilts my face to his. When his eyes meet mine. When his fingers touch my skin, the invisible rope that has me bound in knots slides effortlessly to the floor.

When his lips touch mine I am transported to a beautiful place. A sanctuary where I am always safe.

He slowly leads me back to me. Because at my core, I am a flawed and needy magical beast. I crave nothing more than my Master’s touch.

I am transformed by our depth of intimacy. I am changed by our absolute love and devotion to each other.

It is beyond a kinky scene. It goes beyond lovemaking. It is a metamorphosis, really.

And maybe I am rambling on about this man of mine. Maybe I am just pensive from the amazing time we spent together. I cannot do it justice with words. It transcends language, as it was on a different plane.

But I do feel different today. Closer to who I am. Closer to him.

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(More to come)

 

 

Love Hangover

I am in a daze today.  After a couple of cups of coffee, I am still groggy.  I haven’t even dressed yet.  I am still in my gown, which I just noticed…is inside out.

I feel hungover.  It’s a love hangover.

Maestro and I have been keeping some late nights lately.  Over the last week there have been several 3:00 am “wake-up” calls.  It’s interesting how you can be physically exhausted and yet mentally energized.

Yesterday, we spent the majority of the day entertaining the kids. It was an all-day affair of going here and there.  They are so full of energy!  After they finally went to bed, we each retreated to our computers to decompress.  Around midnight, M went to bed.  I continued researching information for an article I’m writing for work.  I came to bed around 1:00 am and decided it was my turn to sound the alarm.

I may have sounded the alarm, but he opened the floodgates. I am no good to anyone today.  I am a sleepy, distracted mess of a woman, wearing a mysterious smile on her face. There’s no cure for what I have, but I suspect Maestro has a remedy.  I should probably take a nap.  I have a feeling it will be a long night once again.

Here is what’s playing in my head today…

Re-Routed

I left off about four months ago.  We were on the cusp of change.  Moving.  Changing jobs.  Relocating our family.  And suddenly our plans changed.

About one week after I wrote my last post, my father died.  I knew it was coming, but didn’t expect him to go as quickly as he did.  I had the time to say what I needed to say to him.  Most of his family visited and he was at peace.  He knew he was loved.

My first day at the new job was delayed by a week, because of his passing.  I work for hospice, so if anyone understands everything that’s involved in dealing with death, hospice does.  They were understanding and even sent flowers to his service.  And then everything changed in a matter of a week, that week I was supposed to have started.

I walked into the office on my first day, and the three people who’d interviewed me were no longer with the company.  My direct manager, the administrator and the regional director.  All gone.  The replacements were of a completely different mindset and had little to no concern for me or anyone else, nor for anything other than our numbers.  It was like walking into a lion’s den.  To make matters worse, I fell walking into a hospital to visit a patient and broke my foot.  I’ve been sequestered to a desk since June, when I typically work in the field.

M’s job was not what it seemed either.  The director of human resources that recruited and hired him, left after his second week on the job.  No one else was designated to train him, so they tucked him away in a corner, watching training videos for three weeks.  There was a complete restructure of his department, and his position changed significantly.  Needless to say, he’s not happy.

The good news in all of this…we never relocated.  It was almost as if God was looking out for us.  We were outbid on the first house we liked and the second one had some major underlying issues, so we retracted our offer.  It seemed there were all these obstacles around us finding a place to live.  I am so thankful.  We hate the commute, but we find ways to make it work while we look for jobs closer to home.

All of this turmoil has left me in a strange place.  I am still grieving over my father.  He and my mother died within 18 months of each other and that’s a lot to process.  I really dislike my job and feel that I am being spiritually led to other ventures.  I need to cultivate a different career path…one that allows me more time with my children and M.  I am happiest when I serve others, and I’ve lost that part of job satisfaction where I am.

So our life has been re-routed.  But we are still strong.  Our family continues to thrive.  And I am ever-grateful to be on this path to ‘whatever comes next’ with my M…even if he won’t stop to ask for directions.  I know he will lead us to where we need to be.  I know he will help me find who I’ve yet to become.  the hunt

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

The Journey Ahead

It has been far too long since I’ve written on here.  Life has become very hectic and my time very limited.  But life is good.  And it gets better every day.

Maestro and I are still growing as a couple.  This past year of living together has been exciting and tumultuous. And scary.  And challenging.  And wonderful.  We are a great match.  We complement each other.  Where I am weak, he is strong.

It is all good…but I really miss the scenes.  Those over-the-top sexual marathons that left us both breathless and sore.  Those weekends where our only goal was to worship each other.  We still connect.  We still play.  He still beats my ass when I am smart-mouthed and defiant.  But with the day-to-day, with the demands of work and kids, we have little time left over for those hedonistic weekends we crave.

But things are looking up.  We are moving to a new city.  M was recruited by a large firm in a neighboring state and has landed a dream job.  For now, he is commuting, but next month…we will all move there.  It’s very exciting.  What is more exciting is that we will be able to reclaim our bedroom.  Our sacred space.  The bossy two-year old is getting her own room (finally) and we will be able to sneeze without the risk of waking her.

I can’t wait to begin this chapter of our lives together.  I have never relocated with anyone before.  I have never packed up the family and moved to another place for work.  It’s a great feeling.  Liberating and secure, all at the same time.  And I cannot wait to have more alone time with M.

More to come…

journey

 

 

Making Up for Lost Time

There is nothing like marathon make-up sex to make it all better.  Since M’s been back, we’ve been back at it…each and every and any opportunity we can.

In the morning before work…

Those” run home for a quick lunch” Nooners…

The “we have 30 minutes before the kids get home from school” afternoon delights

Those “time for bed” at 8:30 evenings where we don’t actually go to sleep until 1:00 am

The wee hour “wake up call” where there’s no need for an alarm, beacause we never go to sleep.

And as much as I love how he takes me.  How he controls me.  The immense pleasure we share…what I really love, is how close we are becoming.  It feels like the brief hiatus ignited our devotion to one another.  I find myself more submissive.  I am more acutely aware of my service to him.  I want to give more of myself to him.

And on a side note, all of this action is great for my fitness routine.

Now if I can just get some sleep.

all the time

 

 

Here to Stay

car

Our time apart was brief. It was simply a time to breathe and account for where we are in our lives.  Who we are.

Where we are as a couple. And where we want to go.

The windshield is clean, our path is clear and laid out in front of us. He remains in the driver’s seat and I am his loyal passenger as we drive off into the sunset…into this next phase of us. No big life events planned. It’s just that we have now experienced what life would be like apart, and neither of us wants that.

When he arrived home, things were a little awkward. We were friendly and affectionate, but there was a formality. A hesitancy in the mood. I think we were both shell-shocked from the time apart and we felt weary and worn. Also, he didn’t arrive until 2:00 am, after an 8-hour drive. We were both exhausted. We talked for a bit and retired to bed.

I was drifting off to sleep when he leaned over and kissed me. I opened my eyes and found him watching me as I dosed. He kissed me again. His mouth tasted divine and my lips felt like a magnet, drawing towards his. We didn’t talk. We just kissed each other for a long time. Soft sweet kisses. Open passionate kisses. Slowly kissing. Taking it all in.

I found myself aroused by his mouth. I couldn’t get enough of his lips on mine. Feeling his tongue explore mine. The sweet taste. My mouth watered for more. My body salivated for his touch.

He pulled me to him and we began to make love. His touch felt so good on my skin and even better on my soul. His love penetrated me so deeply that I could feel my heart bleeding for him. For us. Each movement was affirmation that there is not another human being in this universe made for me, as he is. This connection. This depth is something that I was destined to have with my One.

My orgasms were swift and powerful and profoundly meaningful. I found myself, once again, shedding my layers for him. Revealing myself…more of myself. Giving all to him as it should be. I was so overwhelmed with pleasure and joy that I began to weep. Releasing everything as I laid my head on his chest. He breathed me in with each breath and exhaled himself, filling me with the air I need to thrive.

Afterwards, I reflected on our beautiful session, thinking about how amazing he is. How good we are together. And I realized the reason why we are so attuned to each other. I figured out how it is that every time, over a year into this, the sex is mind-blowing, existential and powerful. It our connection and it is our selfless love of each other. Each of us puts the other first…their needs and desires. There is no hidden agenda of me “getting mine” or him “getting his.” It is absolute selfless love and focus on the other person. We demonstrate this in how we make love. And we demonstrate this selflessness in our relationship. Always putting the other first.

This is what a real relationship looks like. A first for me. This is a healthy, happy place that I share with my M who makes it a reality. His love and adoration of me, gives me permission and acceptance to finally love myself. And this love allows me to give him all that I am. It’s a beautiful exchange.

Welcome home, M. Our love is here to stay.

Rolling in the Deep…

This won’t be a sexy, metaphorically-laden clever post.  Folks, this is where the sh*t gets real.

We are approaching 4 months since M’s arrival.  For the number people (I happen to be one) That’s 120 days.  That’s 2880 hours.  That’s one third of a year.

And the veneer has worn off.

Yes, we have farted in front of each other.  He has seen me at my best and my worst.  He sees the in between.  He sees through my bullshit.  And occasionally, I feel a tinge of panic…because there’s nowhere for me to hide.  He will reveal me

. He has seen me swell with pride as my oldest graduated from high school, with honors.  He was there when my 7 year old had his art show.  And my 2 year old runs to him first when we both arrive at daycare to pick her up.  I am His.  He is mine.  And the kids are morphing into ours.  We are a family.  A happy family.

He is here when I fall apart…I lost my job of 6 years due to a major shift in budget.  He was here to help pick me up, reassuring me that all would work out.  Reminding me that we will be fine.

He is by my side as I watch my father’s health deteriorate.  We put him on hospice this week.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to face.   And I am not alone in the journey…he is here.  Leading me as my protector.

And in the midst of this chaos, he is my strength.  He helps me unpack the years of baggage I carry with me.  My burden is lighter because he works me through my issues.  (I sometimes feel like he needs to bill me for a copay)

beautiful

This is the beauty of a strong relationship.  This is the epitome of D/s.  It’s not the kink.  It’s not the scenes.  (Those are wonderful and have their purpose.) But this where we go deeper.  This is where I give all to my M and he gives me sanctuary.  This is where we grow. We have a long way to go, but I will say that we walk the road together.  And when I want to run and hide…when I want to forge ahead, or lag behind….he reminds me of who I am.

I am HIS… I belong to Him, and He’s got this.

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(Quotes from Pinterest) 

Grey…

Lately, I guess I have been in a bubble. With so much fun going on at home, I haven’t really kept up with current events, or even local news.

So I just missed this one…

While shopping at Target yesterday (honestly readers, you would think I live there) I noticed a large display of books near the check-out. It was the new E L James’ book, “Grey”. It was brazenly on display, right where they place the “impulse items”. I snickered to myself and thought, how appropriate.  Next to the guilty pleasures of candy bars, expensive Chapstick and individual Frappucino bottles, lurked the latest tome on the man himself, Christian Grey.

So this is a book written exclusively from Christian’s perspective.  In his words.  A work to further explore his sadistic mind.  His quirky ways.  His brooding intensity.  I pondered purchasing it.  But instead, I impulsively picked up the EOS Chapstick and a Frappucino, and made my way out of the store.

Driving away, I started thinking about the name “Grey”. I started thinking about the connotation behind it.  I began to reflect on other movies who had a brooding leading man with the same surname.  And it was distracting, so I pulled over, reapplied my Chapstick and finished up the Mocha.

One of my favorite independent films is 2002’s Secretary.  Maggie Gyllenhaal played the role perfectly and the movie jump-started her career.  And then there was James Spader….whew.   His character was none other than, Mr. E. Edward Grey, an OCD attorney who plowed through secretaries faster than a Kardashian changes shoes. To me, he is who I think of when I hear the title, “Mr. Grey”.   Since he was her boss, she always called him Mr. Grey, especially when he fashioned his angry red Sharpie to her work and bent her over his desk.  Love that movie. It was so quirky and bizarre, but nonetheless, brilliant.  And a happy ending.

spader

If you take it back a bit further, you will find the character of John Gray, from 1986’s Nine 1/2 weeks.  Back then, Mickey Rourke was the bad boy the good girls loved.  And boy was he bad in the movie.  Dark and mysteriously charming he seduced Kim Basinger and made her a wanton wreck of a woman in the end.  A not so happy ending…and a terrible sequel, too.

rourke

And of course, there is the now infamous, Christian Grey.  The ultra-successful billionaire who wears his jeans off his hips, likes his women submissive, his dungeons red and his ropes tight.

jeans

All of these similarly surnamed characters made me think…what is it about the name “Grey/Gray” that aligns with the aura of dominant mystique?  The word literally means, the “color intermediately between black and white” (no surprise there)  So is it because all of these characters embrace both the light and dark sides of their psyche?  Is it because they are the balance of both good and bad?  They have in some way mastered the place in the middle where those lines are skewed?  Possibly?  Thoughts?

But grey/gray also means “dull and nondescript without interest or character” and I wonder if that definition is a direct reference to the new book?  HA!  Just kidding!

Don’t fool yourself…I am sure I will pick it up on my next venture to Target…after all this pensive thought I need to go back, I am almost out of Chapstick.

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