Post Play Reflection

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm" I respond, and then I feel the cane again. Scratching lightly up my leg. Pausing at my thigh and digging in. Firmly pressing on my cunt. I am losing my fucking mind.

He talks to me about some other sessions he's had and what people are into, and how it's all so wonderful to be a part of. Cucking is one of his favourites from what I can gather. Jesus fuck I'm getting revved up again. Just as I get close to the edge of the cum cliff he backs off again and I raspily moan "are you edging me?" with my eyes closed because I don't know if I even have eyes or a face anymore.

He reponds by squeezing my nipple hard and then placing the bottom of the glass bottle of cold Coke on it that I brought for him. Oh my god. It feels amazing and I squirm. I lick the underside of his bicep, driven only by animal instinct and a desire to devour him piece by piece.

"Edging you?" then a hard slap to my chest. What the fuck, that feels so good. This is new. I don't know how but the Hitachi wand is hard up against me again and I ask, cum, thank him, and in a waterfall of multiple orgasms I am a bucking climaxing animal. He lightly slaps my face and I groan with pleasure. It's not hitting - far from it. It's contact and pressure, precision and intent. Consent is sought with his pause as I stretch my neck to find where I can get more of that feeling, his hand connects again. It's the connection, the exact placement of his skin on mine, and the force the same as a fiercely caring embrace. He is seeing me get what I need and giving me more and more. Reading the way my body responds with unquenchable need. Giving me even more beyond what I think is possible.

I'm curled into him, deeply calm and satiated. I think of a bad dream I had a few days ago where he left before I knew our session was over. And I was left wanting. But that's not the case here. He's given me everything and made sure that I'm genuinely satisfied in all the ways.

As I slowly return into one body from all the corners of space and time, the conversation is easy and friendly. I can't stop panting or saying "fuuuuuck" every few seconds, but it's ok. I'm not uncomfortable and neither is he. He looks around, saying "this is a great couch! I'd love to watch a movie here and just have you tied up in my arms and use you whenever I wanted". Couch? What even is a couch. I groan, because he's saying sexy things and now I want to do them. I want him to do them to me. How is it possible to have this much stamina?

I ask what he does after a session, if he goes home and makes toast and watches Netflix. He laughs and says he'll probably beat off to something later and then have a huge sleep before he heads into his tech job in the morning. He asks if I enjoy porn and I tell him I'm quite partial to a long narrative I can get invested in. He asks what kind and I can't believe it but I start blushing.

He lifts me up like I'm made of balsa wood and unties my wrists, and I have a stretch to get feeling back in my arms.

"So moments after you fucked me in the ass I feel shy about discussing specifics of porn with you. That's weird, I think it's just a reflex. It's like talking about what we do together - it's so intensely private that I'm wired to never put words to it". So I tell him what I like, and it's easy, and another misplaced wall in my mind crumbles to dust.

I snuggle closer to him and revel in the uncomplicated nature of it - it's been surprising to me, how clear cut it all is. One of my concerns going into this arrangement was about catching feelings. But it's different. Sir James is a professional and I am a client. The feelings I have are about myself, about the rapture and release, facing head on what I want and how I want to be fucked. I like him a lot in a way that is collegial and platonic, like we have a mutual goal and we consistently nail it. He's great value and excellent fun, and there isn't anything dangerous about any of it.

He gathers all his gear from around the house that we transformed into our own personal amusement park, and we bid a fond farewell. I'm a pile of pudding on the couch and he sees himself out.

A brief check in is good both ways the next day, to make sure there's no major drop for me or for him. I decide to write it all down. So much of the night was delicious confusion but some of it is etched in my mind. As I return to life outside of the play session I habitually reach for the things that will bring me serotonin and help me feel calm. Life is stressful, and we are all in danger, but it doesn't feel like that right now. I can let my guard down. I let the good feelings wash over me again and again, with a brief glimpse into memory. They're sticking even when I'm back in my regular life. I have gone through a pleasurable reset and I can exist without being strung out for awhile. I'll hold on to it as long as I can.

Turning to face my own desires has been a strategy for stress management. I feel free, clear, easy and playful. Some people like jogging, but this works for me.