Reboot

I have been fairly quiet in the blogospere for a while. Sometimes, life gets the best of me and I don't feel I have anything worthwhile to say. Other times, I have plenty to say, but no energy left to say it. The past month has been a little of both.

I think that both J and I have been battling with life's stresses and demands. For each of us individually, the demands of work and home have been considerable. It is us, together, that keeps me going. Not only His support and caring of me, but my devotion to Him. This year has not been bad, but it has been wearing, for both of us. When life becomes that busy and that tiresome, there is simply not much time or energy left over for play. We still have made time for each other, it has just been a bit more subdued.

My fantasies have still leaned toward pushing the limits and severity. My desires and actions have been more towards service to Him and my need to submit. While our last few visits have not been vanilla, they certainly have been more restful and restorative for both of us. This week, we managed to carve out some time together. His visit was short, but it was just what the doctor ordered. As always, it was exactly what I needed and He knew exactly how far to take me. The play wasn't as intense as we have explored in the past, but for my state of mind and the time that we had, it was the perfect reboot for us.

I wanted Him. I yearned and hungered for Him intensely. It had not been that long since we had been together, but it seemed like an eternity. I was craving His taste, his smell, His touch, it was a sense of urgency I felt. It was more than a want, it was a requirement, not as in a demand, but as a basic need...like air or water. I needed to be marked, I needed to be controlled, I needed to be completely His.

Our time together started slowly and back to basics. He sat, fully clothed, as I stood before Him and undressed. He watched me and He turned me around, I was naked and vulnerable and I was His. He kissed me and He touched me. He made me cum, quickly and consumingly. I undressed Him and I worshipped Him...with my mouth, with my hands, with my body. I licked Him, I sucked Him, I touched Him and I revelled in His presence. I immersed myself in His taste, touch and smell. I memorized His body with my tongue, my lips and my fingers. I buried my nose into Him, sniffing and inhaling all of His scents and fragrances. I licked Him all over, the length of Him, from His neck down. Savoring Him and marvelling at the topical geography of His body. My tongue exploring the smooth, flat places, the crevices, the curves, some places soft, some rough, some hairy. I love the way He smells, from soapy and clean, to earthy and sensuous. His smell (all of them) make me want to devour Him and feed off of Him. He lay back and let me bathe Him like a cat, licking and lapping with my tongue.

I lingered at His cock. Licking from base to tip and sliding my mouth down over it. His cock is perfect to me, the perfect size, perfect shape, perfect taste, perfect in the way it satisfies me. I love the way it feels in my hand, hard and firm when I wrap my fingers around it. I love the way it feels sliding into my cunt, pushing into me, impaling me. I particularly love the way it feels in my mouth, feeding me, filling me, gagging me. Sucking His cock makes my cunt ache and drip and throb for Him. It also makes me crave and beg and hunger for His cum. I begged and pleaded and stroked and sucked and licked. I felt His balls tighten, His body tense, His cock grow even harder, I became more focused, more urgent. Then I felt His fist grip my hair, teasing me, holding me still as He came, on my face, on my hair, before letting my mouth find Him again. Letting me taste it, drink it, suck and clean every last drop from Him.

While all of that (and our subsequent touching, exploring, love making) turned me into one hot, quivering mess. That was not really the reboot. The reboot was the marking of me, my spanking and my caning. I am still sitting lightly and gingerly because of it. He had me lie face down on the bed. He ran His hands over me, he ran the cane over me. He spoke to me, He asked me what I wanted. I asked for His marks, I asked for His strokes, I needed it, I wanted it. His voice and His hands caressed me and lulled me. I relaxed into Him. His voice was the siren's song to me. As He spoke, the cane tapped a rhythm on my ass. He watched me slip into that floating state and then He brought hard, fast strokes down, leaving red, raised welts. There was more rubbing, soothing, relaxing, then more heavy strokes and stripes. His voice was constant and calm, it led me, controlled me, focused me. His hand rubbed over the welts, tracing them, feeling them and then I was spanked, over the cane marks on my ass and my thighs. Each time, whether from His hand or the cane, I cried out or squirmed away, He would pet me, stroke me and shush me. When I calmed and began to float away again, He would add a mark. It was perfect, just remembering and reporting it, has me wet and wanting again.

Please Sir, may I have some more?