He Said

Cheek to cheek, magnetic
Whiskers prickly, gooseflesh
Tangled, fist pulling tresses
Fingers dancing, conducting
Warm lips, wet, whispering
Powerful, gentle commands
Guiding, owning me

Focus
Be still
Listen to my voice
Feel my fingers
Nothing else
That’s it
I can feel it coming
Here it comes
Let it come
Let go
That’s it, that’s it
Give it to me
That’s mine
*Yes, Sir*
Good Girl

Mind inward, focused
Body awoken, alive
Carnal consciousness
Beckoned responses
Eager, pulsating, obeying
Raging through to the surface
Again

*Oh god*
No, you say, oh M
Say it
*Oh M*
That’s right
They’re mine
*Yes Sir, they’re yours*
*Oh M, oh M, oh M*

Here it comes
I can feel it
It’s mine
I want it
Give it to me
Let it go
Are you going to give it to me?
*Yes Sir, yes Sir, yes Sir*
Good Girl

He said
Again and again and again

Oh, My

Not all that long ago, I completely stopped asking for or suggesting sex. Not that I don’t express my desire and joke and touch him and things, because I do. A lot. Not all that long ago, I completely stopped asking for or suggesting sex. Not that I don’t express my desire and joke and touch him and things, because I do. A lot. I just don’t ask him if we can have sex. I don’t suggest or recommend bedroom activities.

This was an important step for us, and for me especially. It was one area where I felt myself still trying to hold on to some control, and I needed to let go. I needed to trust him with the reigns and trust my needs would be met. We’ve introduced many things and I needed to step back and see where he’d take us. Allow him alone to decide and explore and find his way, too. I haven’t been disappointed. In fact, I’m so unbelievably surprised and proud. A little at a time, he’s been exploring some interests and he’s not been hesitant at all to incorporate them. He’s been doing so more and more. I’m in heaven.

Now, since we went camping, something’s changed. It’s subtle, but I feel it, and it’s wonderful. It more than wonderful, whatever that is.

While we camped, M snuck moments alone with me and even then, I could feel the power and joy he felt in having that control, in my total compliance and submission. It was more than that – he was exploring his interests more in depth, too.

Remember not long ago, when I said that my body responds to M in ways it never has before? Well, he takes great pride in that. It fuels him. When I close my eyes, I can see the smile and power and pride on his face and in his eyes as he elicits specific responses from me. That’s what he did over the weekend. In small bursts of time, he controlled every single response.

Then, Monday, oh god. He was a fury of desire and control and just, I don’t know, bursting with it. The words he used, the way he moved and moved me, his touch – it was so powerful. As if the control he’s had all along was emphasized, growing, and evolving. More than ever before.

Tuesday night, I was made to watch the soccer game with him. I knew something was up when he told me I was going to LOVE watching soccer after this. A beautiful harness with a crotch knot was used along with a couple other things, and rules were devised about activity I must engage in during certain occurrences in the game. The first half – it was the longest 45 minutes of my life. I can manage control I didn’t know I had, simply because he demands it. The second half was…..unreal. He can take me to places I didn’t know were possible. Very easily, he can take me to a place where I no longer have any control at all. None. All the while, my mind is completely focused only on him controlling me. And, that out of control feeling, watching and feeling him truly being himself, it’s like nothing else. It’s like a drug.

He’s even begun to make new, stricter rules, ones that further limit any possible control I might have in the bedroom. Ones that require great self control on my part. I love them.

Wanna know the biggest realization of all? Letting go and trusting him to meet my needs has been more fulfilling than any suggestion I ever made. Trusting him, communicating with him and watching him take us to all these spectacular places – it’s indescribable.

I’m in awe. I can’t even imagine where it will go. The endless possibilities.

Oh, my.

Smiles and Giggles

On the surface, my smiles or giggles may seem inappropriate. They come at times that baffled me at first. I couldn’t figure out why in the world I’d giggle or smile when the situation was NOT funny. But, I figured it out.

When I say something I probably shouldn’t have, I get “the look”. That look shuts me right up – but I smile, every time. I try to stifle it, but I just can’t. When he asks me to go do something or to stop doing something, I obey – but I smile, every time. When he tells it’s time for bed and to wait patiently for him, I listen – but I giggle (and blush), every time. Even during a spanking, it happens. The harder it gets, the more I periodically giggle. Honestly, every time. And there are more such moments, every day.

I know why. During these times, I feel the pull of his control the most and I’m glowing from the inside out. It surrounds me like a warm embrace. In those moments, I realize, every time, that he cares, even about the little things. I realize that even when I lose, I win. I realize that he is always thinking of us and strives to help us be the best versions of ourselves. I feel his love and desire for me. I belong to him, and those little smiles and giggles are my joy escaping in little bursts.

In fact, when I think about it, all those things he does and says – they are the most powerful form of foreplay, even if they’re not intended to be. They are erotic and hot, even if they aren’t overtly sexual. Just a look, a few words. A smile or a nod. A smack on the ass.

And, I smile and giggle.

First Trip

Our first camping trip of the year was this weekend. The weather was gorgeous – we enjoyed the beach and the walks and campfire talks. On Friday, an opportunity arose and we quietly (oh, so difficult) christened our new camper. Saturday night, M and I put our feet up and sipped wine while leaning back, holding hands and gazing at the stars, finding as many constellations and planets as we could. Sunday, I followed all sorts of unexpected, sexy directions throughout the day. Just his forethought was insanely erotic, but then, his spontaneity on top of that, wow. I never knew if something erotic was waiting for me from one moment to the next, all day long. He snuck us away for many stolen, sexy moments, ones I won’t likely forget. At night, we sat by the fire, held hands, talked and laughed at the silliest things. Admiring the stars again, we snuggled into one another and made out like teenagers. They were the kinds of kisses that made our teeth tingle, left us gasping for air and tugging on clothes, wishing. Then, I was surprised again when I was asked to kneel before him. And what happened next – I was lucky enough to cross one thing off of our simple bucket list.

It was a good weekend.

Movie Night

Many times on movie night, we snuggle in on the couch, twisted into one another in some manner, comfy. One movie night it long ago, he was sitting in our big chair with his feet up, so I went and got us a beer and opted to sit at his feet, moving the ottoman to the side a bit to lean on. I sit here every night after my shower, so this is not out of the ordinary. In fact, it’s my favorite part of the day. For some reason, this particular experience felt a little different.

We sat just like this, with him in the chair and me with my back against the chair, leaning on his legs a bit, watching the movie. My eyes saw what was on the tv and I could tell you what it was about. But, all I could think about was how his hand slid into my hair, his palm gliding up the back of my neck near the scalp, fingers spreading open to gently pull up and through to the ends. My eyes would close as he’d scoop up a handful and twist, tugging and pulling, then letting go to feel each strand fall back onto it’s place on my shoulders. I felt the goosebumps form as his hand curved, gripping around the back of my neck with firm squeezes, fingers lingering, sometimes tracing up to my chin and back. Traveling downward, his hand would stop at my clavicle, pinching it’s length between his thumb and forefinger, gliding back and forth, thumb pausing to dip into the crevice to tickle. A few times his hand traveled downward just a bit further inside the v-neck of my t-shirt to caress what was bared beneath. When I got up to get us another beer, as I returned he patted the front of the chair with his hand and smiled, a gentle command to resume my place. I couldn’t have stopped the smile that began with butterflies in my belly, even if I wanted to.

I’d say I was deeply aroused and that would be the truth. I had a difficult time not squirming too much or giving away how aroused I was. But, it was more than that. I felt more than that. With each subtle move of his hand on me, I knew he was thinking of me. I occupied his thoughts, despite the fact that we were watching a movie. When I got up, upon my return he made sure I knew he wanted me right back where I belonged, with him. It felt natural. I felt connected. I felt loved. I felt at home.

When the movie was over, he leaned down, his breath hot on my cheek and his lips tickling my ear, and whispered, “It’s time for bed,” and we….

Being Realistic

Before I ever even asked M to embark on this journey, I daydreamed and wondered what it would be like to live this way. I wondered what M would look and feel like given control, officially our leader. I wondered, even though I wanted so badly to, if I could really give up control and trust we’d move in a direction that suited us.

It was easy to allow these daydreams to morph into expectations or to an ‘ideal’ goal in my head. I’m an evaluator and goal setter for myself, so it’s easy for me to include others (M) in that process, even though it’s unfair of me to do so.

The thing is, I had no idea if my expectations or goals were even realistic ones. What did I have to compare to? Nothing, not in real life. I had images and words online, that’s all. Not only that, but I wasn’t even sure that what I wanted was really what I wanted. In my head it looks one way, but played out in real life it could look or feel completely different. Disappointment or discouragement often followed if it didn’t fit.

I think it’s been easy to see over the last couple months, that it is okay to be trying on all those different ways to do things. We learn as we do. We evolve and find our own way, but we must evaluate based on our own experiences, not those of others. There is no need to be disappointed or discouraged, this is a part of who we are and that’s not going anywhere. If something isn’t working, we simply chart a new path.

I can’t even begin to express how valuable it’s been to read the words of others. In the beginning, I honestly felt we might lose our way without those words lighting the path for us. Now, I find so much comfort in the connectedness, but I know we will find our own way. I love that I can gain insight and relate with others, but I don’t feel like I need to depend on those words in order to live this way.

I sure do appreciate each and every word I read, though. Sometimes if feels as if I’m sitting at a table sipping coffee with some of you, and that’s a good feeling. I know that behind each word are fingertips tapping on a keyboard, belonging to a beautiful person with feelings and dreams, just like me. Some days, it makes all the difference.

Drop by any time. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.

More and Less

This cycling I do, I keep getting a better grasp on why it’s happening, each time I feel it begin. I thought, not long ago, it was because I was maybe comparing my relationship to other’s highlight reel. But, that’s not really it. It’s not the comparing. It really is that M and I operate at different speeds. I move very quickly and he moves relatively slowly. The issue arises when I feel like I’m kept in the dark and I do not know what he’s thinking or feeling about something we’ve agreed upon and I wonder why it isn’t happening. I wait and wonder. I feel lost and lonely and so conflicted about whether to talk to him about it for fear of it looking like I’m trying to guide him in some way. I do not want to do that. We do know this one issue has been the thorn in our side. It cycles and cycles.

We spoke about it last night, with some very interesting results. Here is what we revealed:

– When we have talks, I talk a lot and he absorbs. He talks a little, makes the final decision, but doesn’t always share what he’s thinking.

– I talk too much sometimes. I fill the silence when we are talking, in an attempt to make him feel at ease.

– I have admittedly said things or asked for things (or for the omitting of things) only because I thought it might make things easier for him or be helpful in empowering him.

– We both worry about how our sharing of our thought processes will affect the other. I don’t want to burden him and he doesn’t want to seem like he can’t handle things and worries if he hasn’t figured out a course of action yet. We both end up feeling overwhelmed.

What light we shed on the issue!! I was so nervous about this talk, but it was so productive. We feel there are some simple changes which can help this situation. Here is what we are trying:

– He is going to make an effort to share his thought processes and explain things for me. If something we decided on isn’t happening, he will share with me why he’s decided so.

– I will say what I want to say and shut up, give his wheels time to turn and enjoy the silence.

– I will trust him to make up his own mind.

– I will share my concerns and ask questions when I need clarification. I will do so in a way that shows my faith in his decision-making capabilities and his final say in things. He will share his thoughts and feelings with me, because doing so shows strength, not weakness. * I think these things are the hugest discoveries. We realized that as long as I’m asking and sharing, and not suggesting, it is not undermining his power in any way. And him sharing with me empowers him, making him a thoughtful leader. It’s really not that difficult if we don’t make it so.

– We will each write individual weekly goals in our journal. He will give me a daily assignment, written in the book each morning. I will text each day at lunch time. That way, we have ongoing communication throughout the day and a way to continually connect.

I’m excited! We stopped that spiral in it’s tracks, this time. And we learned so much. I think, as things continually calm, we learn more and more, because it’s easier to see when there isn’t so much fog. It feels more and more comfortable, less and less unsure. More and more natural, less and less like trying so hard.  More and more like simply living life.

Cycle. Repeat.

For whatever reason, when we be began this journey, I was able to peel off all my armor right away and I’m so exposed, all the time. I like it, don’t get me wrong, it feels so much more natural than carrying all that armor and defense around all the time. But, I don’t really even have the ability to lock my feelings away for long periods of time any more. I can sit on something for a while, until I can get a grasp on what it is I’m feeling and try to figure out why, but then it just stews. I can’t hold it. I feel compelled to share it with M. Herein lies the problem. M is new at this, too. He doesn’t move at lightening speed. We have always operated on different speeds. I make up my mind and I do. I figure out and move. And move. He thinks, charts possible paths, thinks some more, tries a few things on for size. Me moves, a little. And a little. I’m not saying one way is right and another is wrong, they are simply different.

This single issue has caused us the most strife. I don’t expect him to move at my pace, that wouldn’t be fair. At the same time, if we make a decision, I feel neglected and forgotten if I wait and wait and wait and don’t see it come to fruition. That’s not to say he isn’t working up to it, I’m just in the dark.

Here’s the thing. I KNOW I’M SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE DARK. I gave him control. I’m not leading. Yet, I just want to know he’s not forgotten. So, I get this tangled brain syndrome. I figure out it’s because the waiting is crushing me and I just want to know he still cares about what we talked about and decided. I hold on to that for a while, until it just stews. But then, the sharing my feelings about it – it looks a lot like pushing. Or topping from the bottom, or whatever you want to call it. That’s the affect it has, too. Then, I wonder if I should have stuffed those feelings away.

Cycle. Repeat.

When I

When I kneel for him, quietly waiting,
When I’m guided to lean over, chest on the cool sheets,
When I sense his warmth behind me,
When I feel his palms kneading up my back,
When he checks to see his affect on me,
When the touches are no longer quite so soft,
When his hands grasp and grip my hips,
When his rhythm is all that I feel,
When his hands are pressure, pushing me down,
When his fingers gently move my hair to see my face,
When he guides my fingers to touch myself,
When the hair from his chest lightly grazes my flesh,
When his arms lock around me, all his weight pinning me down,
When my hair in his hand guides my mouth to his,
When he muffles my moans of pleasure with his hand,
When he asks to whom I belong,
When I feel my love coiling to a pinnacle,
When he says, “Yes”, I

Come undone.