He walked into my heart like he always belonged there, took down my walls and lit my soul on fire

I still think about the day when we first met. Part of me wants to keep it private, though I believe that is mainly because trying to put words to that evening feels a little big…

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The waiting was almost over. I had been thoroughly enjoying my tasks while growing in confidence and learning about myself. The day had arrived and I had some instructions.

  1. The time.
  2. The place.
  3. The outfit.
  4. What I was to do.
  5. His expectations.

There was a little guidance on what I could expect, but not a lot. As always there was enough to inform, but not so much that my imagination and curiosity were sated. We had discussed safety, and what he expected of me regarding this. As I fed my children, and waited for P to get home from work I could feel the anticipation bubbling away in my tummy. One final email, confirming the room number and checking that I still wanted to meet with him. P knew I had to leave at 7 to get to my friend’s house for dinner at 8.

Looking back it was the lies I had to tell that were the hardest thing for me.

Oddly, in spite of his lack of trust in me, on the occasions I went out to play he never once accused me of cheating or “checked” that I hadn’t upon my return. At times I tried to rationalise the lies… Perhaps, if I was happier in myself then he would be happier with me, and our home life would improve! Naive? Maybe. But it was an ideal that I shared on some level with sir so maybe I wasn’t completely off target.

7pm came and went, P was home but refusing to put #2 to bed sooo….

I escaped at 7.15, and drove like  demon to get there on time. Using the loos in the restaurant near the hotel I changed into the skirt and heels, and freshened myself up. Then, after dropping my bag back to the car, I entered the hotel.

  • Through reception, up the stairs, end of the corridor on the left.
  • The door will be held open with a towel.
  • Breathe N, breathe. 
  • Shut the door behind you, face it and put on the blindfold which will be hanging  nearby.
  • Then wait for me.
  • Do not speak.

That first time I stood there, waiting. I could feel myself almost vibrating with excitement, nerves, anticipation. Waiting, still waiting.

And then he was there, next to me, inhaling me.

I had been so distracted by the inaudible buzzing I hardly recognised his approach, but his breath on my neck was all I needed to come back to myself. To him. And then he was talking to me, examining me, running his hands across me in a way that made me smoulder. We had barely started the evening and I had no idea what he would decide afterwards but…in that moment I burned and knew that I was his. My clothes soon discarded, a collar round my neck and my first taste of him.

I was in trouble if he didn’t want me, already intoxicated by his taste, his scent, his voice.

We had discussed rope, of all the restraints I had experienced rope wasn’t one of them, and I had craved it somehow. He tied me in a chest harness and the sensation of being bound, his breath on my naked skin, his fingers tracing the lines of the rope. He had explained that he tied for control rather than art, so I knew that this would be part of his plans for the evening. What I wasn’t expecting was to need to be held up with it as my legs turned to jelly from the many orgasms he ripped out of me.

So many exciting new things that night, too many to list for sure. But the pictures he took showed how far I had travelled from the woman who first responded to his advert those few weeks ago. My body still remembers how it felt, being claimed by him in every way. How, while laying on the bed restrained towards the corners (in case I floated away??) feeling like I had no more orgasms to give, he entered me ever so gently and I unravelled all over again, all over him.

At the time it felt like an out of body experience. I recognise that murmuring state as the early phase of sub space now.

He untied me, and held me safely while I floated back down to the bed, and when I had recovered enough to move he guided me (still blindfolded) to the bathroom. Once the door was closed I removed the blindfold and looked at myself in the mirror. I was drenched in sweat and my pupils were the size of dinner plates! With those big black puddles of pleasure staring back at me, the electricity coursing through my body and the calmness of my mind I felt alive.

I felt like me again. 

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