Anyone who has truly experienced the world of BDSM, and I mean lived it, not played in it, knows that the level of trust you give to your partner binds you to that person. I can say all that I want that there will never be any emotions, but fuck that . No one can invest that level of trust in another person with their body and not also invest the same with their heart, mind and soul. For me, it is just not possible. If you own me, you OWN ME.
After the Truth, I decided I wasn’t ready to run right back into a D/s relationship. I was a mental and emotional wreck. I couldn’t forget him. I didn’t want to invest in another Dom until I could give him my all. Instead, I fed my insatiable need for sex with vanilla. Looking back, I was on the verge of becoming a sex addict. My body literally needed it. I kept going to doctors to find out what was going on with my body. When I would get incredibly horny, I would hurt. My womb and pussy would ache and pulse until the point that if I did not cum, I would cry out in pain. I was at my end, because toys and masterbation had ceased to help. One night, it got so bad I passed out in a cold sweat from the pain. My husband was at a loss at how to help me. Sex was still not possible for us. Not like I needed it.
In the middle of the night, one hot summer night, I couldn’t sleep. Sleep had become foreign to me in my pain. I was missing him, and my body was rebelling. I was sitting by my pool, drinking, and I found this new app. I downloaded it to try to take my mind off of my needs. The app was called Whisper. If you don’t know what the app is, where the fuck have you been hiding the past couple of years?
It seemed fun. Anonymous app where you can post your thoughts and shit to group sites or the world in general. I thought, why not. My first post, I had over 50 responses. Many from men close to me, even more from those around the world. You could call those posts precursors to this blog. It was my third post that made me realize that I could actually meet and talk to men that could potentially become my next friend with benefits. Who needs Craigslist? Whisper was getting me more action than CL ever did.
My third post was about missing the Truth. That I wished I had a new FWB close by. Simple enough. Many responded, I talked to several. Nothing truly spoke to me, until the day I had decided I would delete the post. One person, one man, said the most innocent things in a reply. I found myself smiling at his wit. He was a sarcastic ass, but so am I, so he was speaking my language. He told me his story, about how his wife had left because of his job. How he found that he missed the intimacy, not necessarily her. I told my story, but not all of it. We connected in hundreds of messages. He was beyond vanilla, but I think that is one of the things I wanted from him.
After several weeks, we decided to meet. I was going to be in a hotel close to him for a job taking pics at a wedding one weekend, so we used that as a chance to meet. For the first time in a very long time, I wore a dress and heels. There was something about this man who made me want to be more of a lady instead of my usual casually sexy cougar. He was my age, not what I had looked for previously. We met down at the hotel bar, and i have never felt more comfortable meeting a stranger since. It was as if we had been friends our whole lives. We didn’t even have to introduce ourselves. We just smiled at each other, and he began the conversation where our last messages on the upcoming elections had left off.
After a couple of glasses of wine, I asked him if he wanted to have another glass, but in my room. He agreed. At this point I got nervous. I was used to the Truth attacking me as soon as we were alone. Littler conversation, just hours upon hours of hard and nasty fucking. This guy, he opened the wine I had chilling, sat beside me on the couch, and we talked some more. He would lightly caress my arm or my leg during our talk. I was primed and vibrating and wanting, but he went slow. He asked me if he could kiss me. I know I blushed wildly. No man had treated me with such gentleness in a very long time. When our lips met, I knew I was in trouble. I did not feel the darkness take over as I had with the Truth. I felt a sweet light pour into my veins. Something that calmed the pain, silenced my demons and made my blood sing.
We kissed on that couch for over an hour. Until my lips were swollen, we were both panting for our own air, and smiles were in concrete on our faces. I became bold and rubbed his hard cock through his pants. He asked me if I was sure I wanted this, and I nodded yes. He stood, took my hand, and led me to the bed. I almost cried at how lovingly he undressed me. I almost chuckled internally that I would actually make it back home with my clothes in tact for once. I undressed him with the same reverence. When we stood naked in front of each other, he looked me in the eyes, and told me he had never seen anything so beautiful and sexy. For the first time in a very long time, I believed the words as he said them. His eyes made me believe him. His touch made me believe him.
For the first time in a very long time, I did not fuck that night. I experienced what I hadn’t since my husband and I had been able to have sex. He made love to me. He took his time, he made sure I came a couple of times, and then he filled me with his own release. I am not ashamed to say that I had a couple of tears roll down my cheeks as he held me. He didn’t ask about my reaction, he only held me for a long, stroked my hair, held me to his chest. We talked more about politics and sports, laughed and kissed. He held my hand to his chest, would kiss my wrist and lightly trace my fingers.
As we were dressing so that he could leave, he told me that he just found out that afternoon that he wold be moving in a little over a month for a new job. He looked like he wanted to say more, but stopped. Normally I would have said, no big. See ya. This guy though, I wanted more of what I had just experienced. I wanted more of feeling like less of a whore. I asked him if he would still like to meet until he had to move, and he quickly agreed. He hugged me for several minutes before kissing my lips, my head, my neck, and telling me he would call once he got home.
I should have known then, feeling as I did, that I should have let him walk out the door and never met again. Emotions do not work in a hot wife relationship. They can only do more harm than good. I should have known when I looked in his eyes that I was not the only one playing with fire. That night I gave him the name of Tin Man. At that time it was because we both had issues with loving and accepting love. At the time it was because we both had fund each others’ heartbeats in a beautiful moment of sex.
If I had told him that night what I truly felt, instead of just letting him walk out of the door and keeping my feelings to myself, I would have said…
I loved every moment of what we just shared. You have made me feel more like a worthy woman and less like a to be used whore. I haven’t felt that in a very long time. You made my smile a real one for a while. My laughter was rich and not forced. I felt more at peace for those hours in just talking and touching and kissing and making love than I ever did with the Truth. He was my beautiful chaos, you showed me I can be even more at ease with a tranquil sea. Thank you or being that slow drizzle of rain when I had only been experiencing torrential storms. We will meet a few more times, and each will be amazing, but this one made me stronger in my own worth because of its gentleness.