My Love came up with a new idea he wanted to try. He was very excited about it. Friday he’d texted me several times teasing me unmercifully. As so often happens, life got in the way and by the time we were home we practically fell asleep before our heads hit the pillow. Saturday was a full day as well, but fate gave us a break and we were able to eek out a few hours of alone time that evening.
He had the ropes out and ready. A towel covered an assortment of torture toys as I like to call them. My heart was pounding in anticipation as I presented for him.
His first instruction was something I couldn’t do. I tried to get into the position he wanted. It wasn’t difficult, but my ankles said no. He made several consolations for me. We tried it with towels and even a pillow, but I couldn’t manage the position. All I could think about was how I’d ruined his plans. He’d gone to so much trouble. He planned it all out. He was excited about living out a fantasy and now I’d shot holes all through it.
I can’t put a finger on the emotion that filled me – shame? embarrassment? I don’t know. It wasn’t positive that much is for sure. Frustration was a alive and well in me, but My Love was taking it in stride. He remained calm and acted like it was no big deal. I might have believed him if we hadn’t been looking forward to this for days.
He picked up a bundle of rope and tossed it aside. As he bound my hands and fashioned a crotch rope that other bundle sat there unused. It stared at me and called me names the entire time. Failure. Wimp. You’re getting too old. You’re out of shape. This is your fault. If he’s stuck with you the rest of his life, he’ll never get to live out his true fantasies. Yeah, that rope was on a roll. It was loud and hard to ignore.
Once My Love cinched the crotch rope, the bundle finally gave up. As the scene progressed and clamps we added and tightened, even the echos of the self-doubt caused by the bundle were pushed away. I was definitely living in the moment and giving My Love the undivided attention he deserved.
Phase two of the scene included a change of position. I tried to go with it. I really did. I’d already ruined his plans and forced him to make concessions, but I couldn’t continue. The pain wasn’t of the good variety. I had to use our caution safeword.
Because he’s a good guy, his first and only concern to was to my safety and happiness. Again, he was able to think on his feet and change to situation to meet my needs.
I barely managed to keep the tears from clouding my eyes. I didn’t need that bundle of rope to add cry baby to my list of sins.
In a matter of moments, the discomfort was gone and pleasure took its place. So much pleasure all thinking was pushed aside. My first orgasm was mind blowing, the second and third shook my world off its axis.
Once my brain came back on line, I realized he hadn’t released yet. I asked him what was wrong. He’d rocked my world eight ways of Sunday and he hadn’t come. He kissed my cheek and said, “it was all good. I’m not done with you yet.”
Then I knew. We’ve been married for thirty plus years, I know his tells. All the adjustments he’d had to make had taken him out of Dom space. He wasn’t in the moment. He was hard and more than getting the job done, but he wasn’t finding his own pleasure.
The rope bundle was laughing his nasty ass off now. I flipped it my middle finger. My Love needed me to think of him not shrink into myself and hide. “Use me Master. Let me be your fuck toy.”
His smile was filled with a mix of emotions, but the growl he gave me set my heart pounding all over again.He changed positions again and took me like a man possessed. At the end of the evening, we were both sated. And sore. 🙂
As we laid together, I was trying to get a grip on my emotions and get my talk track ready. I would not cry. I would apologize for ruining his plans. I would tell him I’ll find some exercises to strengthen my ankles. I wouldn’t let my weaknesses keep us for fulfilling his fantasies. Give me time and I’ll get there.
Before I could start my diatribe, he brushed his hand down my cheek. “Thank you for having patience with me, Angel. I’m sorry it didn’t work the way I’d planned.”
What? I couldn’t quite wrap my head around his words. Had he just apologized? But this was my fault. My failure.
“Your patience means more to me than you could possibly know.” His touch was tender, his kisses sweet. Such a departure from only a few minutes before.
“But, I’m the one who messed up your plans. I’m sorry I was such a pain in the neck.” I had to let him off the hook. He was taking the blame, when it was really mine.
He kissed my forehead. “Silly subbie, you did nothing wrong. You were perfect. When we try something new, you have to give me constant feedback. How else will I be able to make it right for us? Your confidence and faith in me allows me to try new things. If you got frustrated and called me an imbecile or a dumbass who couldn’t even plan a scene properly, I’d never be able to break out of the ordinary.
I looked over at the rope bundle with an evil glint in my eye. Apparently, it was an equal opportunity berate(r). It was yelling at my wonderful husband with as much venom as it had been yelling at me. Thank goodness, we hadn’t let it ruin our evening.
I learned something last night. My big bad Dom has a few insecurities too. Of course, I knew that, but damn it’s easy to forget. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in my own head and forget he’s human too – that he needs me as much as I need him.
He drew us a warm bath and we discussed what worked and what didn’t. We discussed our insecurities too. Talking about them, took away some of their power and strengthened our bond. I’d say the evening was absolutely perfect.