I want to be over his knees, the solid warmth of his legs beneath me. I want to feel close to him, to feel him surrounding me. I want to let my eyes close and feel my body relax, melting in his lap because I know it is a safe place to be.
The touch of his fingers against my skin makes my heart pound in anticipation. I feel the rush of excitement sweeping over me, my entire body tingling with the thrill of knowing there is More to come. When he runs his hands across my skin I sometimes think that I would purr if I could, catch up in the hedonistic pleasure of it all.
Once he sounded almost amused when he observed “you just want to be touched, don’t you?” as I arched and shivered, pulling against my restraints to follow his hand as it traced its way down my neck and along my collarbone. Wherever he touches me, I Feel myself open to give him access, pulling my head back to bare my neck, inviting him to wrap his hand around it.
It must be such a power trip for him, the slightest touch getting that kind of reaction from me. When he grips the back of my neck my whole body stills and relaxes, tension melting away replaced by the feeling of safety and security. There is always something gentle about his touch, even when it is firm. It sounds odd to say, but even his spankings feel tender in a way. Not soft, certainly, but the opposite of harsh or cruel.
When he cares my ass I bite back my moans. I arch my back and stick out my ass, doing everything I can to make it an invitation.
When his hand comes down hard on my ass I can no longer stop the moans and whimpers from slipping from my lips. I want to beg, to implore him, please, more. Every blow sends a jolt of pleasure through me. The longer he spanks me the more I feel the pleasure building—to what, I am not sure. All I know is that I am desperate. I never want him to stop. It is ecstasy.
I hold myself back. I wonder if he knows what he is making me feel. Can he tell how wet I amfrom the first moment that he touches me? That every little touch sends a tingle and rush of heat down between my legs? Does he know that my moans are ones of this type of pleasure? Does he know that I am restraining myself, resisting the urge to rub myself against him? Does he have any idea what effect he’s having on me?
I do not ask him to touch me in that way, but I wonder if the thought has crossed his mind. I wonder if he is holding himself back too.
During our last scene there was a moment when he came up behind me and wordlessly pressed himself against me, letting me feel the effect I was having on him. It was not a request or demand. There was no expectation there. He was just showing me, sharing that with me. That is one of the moments that I think back to the most later when I’m alone, the memory making me curl my toes and shiver.
I also remember his hand around my throat, another wordless gesture. He did not squeeze—he did not have to. I was baring my throat to him, offering up complete vulnerability, showing him my submission. And he was showing me that he was not afraid of that, that he felt and wanted that dominance. He was claiming the submission that I was offering to him.
It was a reminder of my physical vulnerability. He is not normally physically imposing, but he has a quiet strength about him, and I am quite small. His grip around my throat reminds me of that, make me acutely aware of it. It is the feeling that he could do anything he wanted to me, but I still feel safe. When he pushes me against a solid surface or holds me in place, there is no desire to fight him. His force makes me feel secure in my place there, confident in him taking charge. I love letting myself submit to that.
There are other feelings I do not put into words for him, that I hope I communicate by showing him. I wonder if he can feel them. I do not have the words to tell him “thank you” for what he is giving me, how fortunate I feel to be alloweded to give him my submission. I wish I could let him feel the gratitude that swells in my chest, a different kind of warmth, and I hope he can feel the trust and respect and reverence that overwhelms me in those moments. It is when I am overcome with those feelings that I want to knee before him, to show him what I do not know how else to express.
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