Not Just Another Sunday Night

19 Jul

{Before I even start, I need to correct and clarify a couple of things.  It was pointed out to me that the rope experience I had in “Sparks” was actually Japanese rope bondage, so I do have a little bit of experience with that.

Also, JM, the analyst, read Cock Worship, and wanted to be sure I knew that he doesn’t believe that women want a real penis, that it’s symbolic of men’s power.  I did know that, for real, but it may not have sounded like it in my post.  He also challenged my statement that there’s nothing  men can do that I can’t do.  He’s right.  There are some things.  Maybe that’s a post for another day.}

I wake up early, body tingling.  Gentle kisses, sweet caresses have left me longing for more.  Hints of things to come linger on my skin. 

His hand in my hair, you know, right there, at the base of my neck.   His arms around me, strong and warm.

His words seduce.  He probes my thoughts  and I open my mind to him.  He draws me closer  til I’m blushing under his scrutiny.  Fully clothed, in a busy restaurant,  I feel naked.  

We stop for coffee, grab a table before ordering at the counter.   Sitting side by side, I’m contemplating what to drink, when he says, quite casually:

“Would you get me a cup of coffee?   I think I want a mocha.”  And before I can respond, before the request has quite registered, he hands me some money.  

Still without quite thinking, I take the money, “Of course,” I say.  Intensely aware of my body I stand and walk to the line in front of the counter.   I feel my skirt brush against my legs, my calves flexing, hips sway.  The chain on my ankle braclet moves with each step, my breathing grows shallow. 

Feeling heat between my legs, knowing I’m wet, I shift from I to i. 

i place the order, and sit back down, eager for them to call my name so i can serve him the coffee.  But the girl behind the counter brings it out, gives him the wrong cup, and the moment is gone.

i wake up early, body tingling.  Looking forward to things to come.


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