My fingers slowly move in circles.
My eyes fixed on the small section of shirt
That they are gently exploring,
As you ask me to describe
What sits just underneath the surface.
Soft skin,
Perfectly smooth and white,
A small circle of the palest pink.
Somehow, impossibly, even softer still,
With a textured dome perfectly centred
And just the right shade darker.
As I paint the scene with words,
You begin to respond physically,
But always continuing to speak.
I outline what I do to you,
Describing all my favourite tricks,
Knowing how much they turn you on.
Just as I start to think I’m in control,
I am humbled as the balance starts to shift.
You detail every little thing
That you know I like to do,
That I like to have done,
And precisely why I like them.
It was like nothing I had ever experienced,
The sheer intimacy
Of being so well known and understood.
Our connection from soul to soul,
Even stronger and more vivid,
Than our usual cerebral link.
There was something new under the sun,
Something I had never known existed,
And it was so fundamentally connected
To life and love and ***,
Such cornerstones of my identity.
It was the softness,
That struck me more than anything,
Being known so completely
By someone that I loved.
It made me see the stark lack of love,
That had coloured my life
Before you.
I’m proud to have wept in that moment.
I love that you held me,
Let me put on “Breathe Me”
And experience that flood of feelings.
I had never felt so loved,
Nor had a moment so intimate.
My whole life could have gone by
Never knowing those feelings existed,
But thanks to you I have
The most incomparable human experience,
Forever in my mind and heart.
For that, I am eternally grateful.
For My Lady. Always.