Giving and Receiving…

The alarm was harsh and direct….

Wearily, I picked up my phone to silence its interruption at 4:15 am.

And then it hit me…

TODAY IS THE DAY!!!!

On 12/13/14, I boarded a plane at 6:00 am and flew to see my Maestro.  As sleepy as I felt, the adrenaline quickly relieved me of the need for coffee, and I found myself focused and in the zone.  I arrived in the Sunshine state less than 3 hours later.  The weather was perfect and there were palm trees lining the concourse.  I immediately felt like I was on vacation.

I found him in the airport, waiting for me under a large Christmas tree…just like the gift he is in my life.

Once we kissed, I realized that I had finally arrived at my destination.

Not a place….but a state of mind.  Wherever he is…is home for me.

We ate breakfast and were lucky to get an early check-in at the hotel.  I thought we would take some time to nap, since we were both awake so early.  But there was no rest for the weary….

Maestro had a much different agenda.

After hours of play, I found I was no longer tired.  I felt energized and alive.  There is something about this man…he can wreck a well put-together hairdo in about 10 minutes, changing it from Playboy bunny hair to Medusa.

The things he does to me.

The way he controls me…

The way he pleasures me….

The way he takes me. 

Shortly after high noon, I was walking like I was a dancer in a Beyonce video.  (Cue “All the Single Ladies…”)

We had a perfect day.  Lots of sex.  Great conversation.  Great food.  Good times!  But by 10:00 pm, we were both beyond exhausted and fell asleep.

I love waking up next to him.  Feeling him watch me as I sleep.  Looking into his eyes and knowing what he wants me to do.  Knowing this, only by his look.  There are no words needed between us.

There is nothing like full submission to Maestro.  Giving in and giving all.

All for him.

Giving it all and expecting nothing in return…but getting more than I ever dreamed possible .

The way he makes me feel is a gift.  By submitting and letting go, I am able to experience freedom.  I can be myself and be accepted.  I can be a woman again…not someone’s mom….not someone’s daughter…a real, warm-blooded, wanton, sexual being.  Asking for whatever I crave, knowing he will not judge my requests. Knowing that as he violates me, he still honors me…and treats me like a queen…always giving me pleasure beyond pleasure with the degree of kink and Dominance I love….with plenty of spankings for this naughty girl.

After all, it was our birthday weekend…spankings are in order, right?

Uh..oh

Oh…oh…oh….OH!!!

 

The Sub-Whisperer

We were having such a lovely evening together.

Such connection.

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.

Just me…

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.

Completely naked.

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.

Not saddled.

Not tied.

Not whipped.

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.

His approval.

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 24/7.

The mundane and the erotic.

The vanilla and the kink.

The public displays of affection.

And of course…

The whispers.

His whispers…

“Faith requires following the power of a whisper.”Shannon Alder

“You know I can’t let you slide through my hands”