You tell me we will play later and I hear the anticipation in your voice. You smile and go back to what you are doing but when you stand up later you seem taller as you look down and say, “Bed?” with an upturn in your tone that means I know it is not a question but an instruction. You offer me your hand and your grip is firm, your eye contact unwavering.
You tell me, when I enter the room bathed and ready, that you want to find me kneeling on the bed when you come back in. You smile and I hear the tenderness as you ask me, “Ok?” and I sort of melt a little inside for you as I answer, “yes Sir,” in a voice that should really be louder and stronger.
You tell me I am yours as your hands claim me, moving over my skin and awakening it with your touch. You fingers are gentle but the promise of what will come hides in the background, in the richness of your voice and the way you words burrow into me me. You are toying with me, building me up, drawing me in.
You tell me to take you in my mouth and show you how I feel, how much I want you. And I try to combine everything I can into what I give you; my love, my devotion, my desire for you; my need, my vulnerability, my very core. I think it and I feel it and I become it in every movement as I absorb what you are to me and echo it back to you .
You tell me, “enough!” and I can hear in the intensity of your voice that it isn’t enough, that it will never be enough. I hear your self control, I hear you pulling back as you pull out and I see the slight shake of the muscle in your thigh as you steady yourself, redirecting and channeling the energy back into your next move.
You tell me that you love me as you hold my head still in your hands and tilt it up towards you. You ask if I remember my safewords and you are gentle, soothing, despite the fact that you imply I might need to use one, that you might hurt me, that it might all be too much and I will have to ask you to stop.
You tell me that you are going to try something different this time and you ask if I am ok with that. My voice squeaks out of me that I think so. I am uncertain, unsure, the weight of my head in your hands far more than it should be as I lean closer to you, for reassurance, for safety, for what is known even in the unknown.
You tell me that I am beautiful as you draw me slowly out of myself and into you. You know by my breathing how I am doing and you use what you’ve learnt about my body to navigate it in the way that you want to, choosing your path carefully, always one step ahead as I follow, reacting, responding, surrendering.
You tell me that you see from the change in my skin that I going to come soon. You see that I am teetering on the edge and you use my own words against me then, taunting them back at me as you layer them up, pushing me over the edge. I can’t see you, my eyes tightly shut, but I hear the thrill in your voice as you encourage me and your press one hand firmly against my throat as I let go for you.
You tell me that you know I have more for you and you make sure that I know that this isn’t going to stop. I am writhing and twitching and you hold me firm as you continue to push the wand against me. I look at you, my eyes telling you all that you need to know. I see yours change and that darkness comes over them and I know that this is only the beginning of my surrender.