Turmoil again
It's been such a long time. Last night I realized that it had been a year since my last romantic relationship had ended. I've had one lover since then, and enjoyed his company, but there was no emotional attachment beyond the already present friendship. H remarried his former wife and reached out to me from his self-made unhappiness and I responded in righteous anger--that will take time to heal. He needs me, I can feel it, but at the time I couldn't allow him to use me like that. One day we'll be close again. I keep track of him as best I can, and the internet is a boon, especially when your target is a public servant. A is a lost cause. He has no access to me now beyond the most casual. Somehow I doubt he thinks about it or cares, that's still my realm, but I think that all of that potential deserves to be remembered and mourned occasionally, though it no longer deserves tears. My children love him, and I love his child as if he was my own, and his incredible wife is still my sister at heart.
But now...now there is someone new again. Already we have years of friendship between us (how do I keep finding these men now?). With those years of friendship also come the comfort and familiarity one would expect, but also a deeply ingrained emotional mistrust. From my first crush on him at 15, he's been willing to flirt play with me, and then to disappear in a flash, leaving me shaken. Now...now I think he may love me. My experience with him for over 20 years combined with my experiences with other men in the last two make me suspicious of it, and afraid to allow myself the pleasure of indulging in falling in love again. To further my anxiety, he's a dom. A delicious, self-aware, practiced dom. My Christmas gift was a beautiful black leather, chrome studded collar, complete with a ring for his leash. Really.
He has yet to make me completely physically helpless, but the assuming of the submissive roll was exquisite. It was thrilling and terrifying and completely natural. He buckled that collar around my neck, and I was his possession, as surely as if he had purchased me with gold. The ability to be in control, even to give him pleasure, was taken from me. When he was done with me the first time I cried. I didn't know what else to do and I had no idea what to feel. For a short time I'd had those responsibilities taken from me. When they suddenly became mine again I felt lost. We laid there in the dark together for a long while after he took the collar away. He took off his shirt to hold me closer while he stroked my hair and my naked back. I love the feel of his chest against mine...His voice was still so cold. I hadn't noted how the way he's been speaking to me since sometime in November had changed so much from all the years I'd known him, and I told him so, and how frightening I found it now that the collar was off and I was supposed to be my own again. He changed it, and talked about how his tone was part of the transition from normal relationship to dom for him. I asked him and he told me what it was he felt when he put a collar on a woman; what it was like to own another human being expressly for his own gratification. By the time he sent me home I was feeling more my usual self again, and less other, though still changed. I still don't know if he knew there were tears.
The second time was easier because I wasn't as frightened about not being able to come back. He didn't use the leash, but he was less gentle.
It's two months before I'll see him again. Already I crave both the gentleness and harshness of his touch and to be the target of his all-consuming focus. We still talk or chat every day. I long for his company. He says dangerous things that make my heart leap, hopeful that *this* will last, that i can be safe loving him. Maybe I can.
But now...now there is someone new again. Already we have years of friendship between us (how do I keep finding these men now?). With those years of friendship also come the comfort and familiarity one would expect, but also a deeply ingrained emotional mistrust. From my first crush on him at 15, he's been willing to flirt play with me, and then to disappear in a flash, leaving me shaken. Now...now I think he may love me. My experience with him for over 20 years combined with my experiences with other men in the last two make me suspicious of it, and afraid to allow myself the pleasure of indulging in falling in love again. To further my anxiety, he's a dom. A delicious, self-aware, practiced dom. My Christmas gift was a beautiful black leather, chrome studded collar, complete with a ring for his leash. Really.
He has yet to make me completely physically helpless, but the assuming of the submissive roll was exquisite. It was thrilling and terrifying and completely natural. He buckled that collar around my neck, and I was his possession, as surely as if he had purchased me with gold. The ability to be in control, even to give him pleasure, was taken from me. When he was done with me the first time I cried. I didn't know what else to do and I had no idea what to feel. For a short time I'd had those responsibilities taken from me. When they suddenly became mine again I felt lost. We laid there in the dark together for a long while after he took the collar away. He took off his shirt to hold me closer while he stroked my hair and my naked back. I love the feel of his chest against mine...His voice was still so cold. I hadn't noted how the way he's been speaking to me since sometime in November had changed so much from all the years I'd known him, and I told him so, and how frightening I found it now that the collar was off and I was supposed to be my own again. He changed it, and talked about how his tone was part of the transition from normal relationship to dom for him. I asked him and he told me what it was he felt when he put a collar on a woman; what it was like to own another human being expressly for his own gratification. By the time he sent me home I was feeling more my usual self again, and less other, though still changed. I still don't know if he knew there were tears.
The second time was easier because I wasn't as frightened about not being able to come back. He didn't use the leash, but he was less gentle.
It's two months before I'll see him again. Already I crave both the gentleness and harshness of his touch and to be the target of his all-consuming focus. We still talk or chat every day. I long for his company. He says dangerous things that make my heart leap, hopeful that *this* will last, that i can be safe loving him. Maybe I can.