We Rest. Our love, strewn about the bed as a decadent mess. Legs, arms and panting bodies lie deliriously twisted among fabric rubble. Life altering madness. Rounded muscles and crystal blue eyes. Your beauty erases hurt and makes laughter of sighs. You are my heart’s demise. Your five o’clock shadow pressed to my supple breast. Hands trail, fall and rise, until they tangle in tendrils spread like tentacles atop a sea of bamboo sheets. High on emotion, my body reels. The dew upon our bodies glisten in the faint moon light permeating the window. A liquid bead upon breast, a bead upon thigh. Your nature runs from within me, between my folds, making small hurdles of taught skin below. A tiny pool forms beneath the crevasse of my ass. You and I, as much here as anywhere. Euphoria rises from our bodies, twists and turns high above our post orgasmic coma. Like smoke and air, we entangle, we drift into a weightless bliss. Our smell, small particles waltzing partnered in the air. The sweet aroma of You and me, dispersed into the room as pollen from the bloom. In this moment You and I are three physical states of matter; we are solid, we are liquid, we are air.
My diamonds are at home. He cleverly hid them from me as punishment for leaving the house sans wedding rings yesterday. Yet, my collar graces my neck in a way more personal than a wedding band surrounds the finger…
People put so much stock in marriage – the crux of commitment, intimacy and trust; yet, so many marriages are without all three. I have never cared for marriage much, finding little connection to the union. Being married never made me feel committed. In fact, I have only been able to commit to one man, no matter what my marital status had suggested.
I feel my marriage is an afterthought by comparison to the commitment I have to serve and obey my King, who is also my husband. My marriage has been reinforced by our lifestyle. Our marriage enhanced by my servitude and his personal conviction to cherish what is His. His because we choose, regardless of the piece of paper between us.
Society recognizes the rings on my finger as a symbol for marriage. The same metal and stone combination that grace the finger of the vast majority of women. Only a few people would recognize my collar as my commitment to serve. Both bring me great pride to wear. Both are a symbol of my devotion, eternally.
However, I prefer the “weight” of my collar.
His version of a love letter; a written gift from my King.
In your acceptance I find myself. My hidden truth. You, who sees me for who and what I really am; you love and nurture me. You encourage me and permit me to live and love you as I desire to. A true love that has been felt by no one else; a pure love I’ve shared with only you. You claw and pull out the side of me that I have been taught to abolish. I have been socially trained to fight the spirit within me that beckons to something deep inside of you. You release me with your own selfless desire to know my truest love. We relish in the beauty that is our life, the often deemed “unacceptable” displays of intimacy shared between us two. I will impose my will and consume you. I will love, protect, and cherish you, my beloved. I will nurture your desires as you satisfy mine. We will push the boundaries to explore the love and intimacy shared between us, unlike any other. I will command of you, and you will obey. My rule comes from a place of the greatest respect, for you are my Goddess, my beloved Queen. You will be worshipped and loved as such, by me. You are, have always been, my greatest desire; I will be completely fulfilled. I will indulge in your gifts like a gluttonous beast. I have savored my meal and become starved in your absence. I no longer hold myself back. I tear away the shields before my desires, grasp tightly of my wants, and bestow every manifestation of my passion upon you.
Take a moment and think about what is to come. Think about the feeling of completeness as I enter you. The rush as I claim and mark you, mine. The warmth of my cum filling you, overflowing, leaving you marked with my scent. Owning you; your heart, body, mind in its entirety is what I desire. To protect and cherish the beloved gift you are. A gift that belongs to me, of which I refuse to share or surrender. As I own you, you have taken my heart, my love. Without you, I am incomplete. I give you my love and bid yours. I possess you with care and respect. With the greatest of love, I mark you, I indulge in you. We fulfill fantasies, bring to life repressed thoughts, bathe in the dark rivers of our hearts. I give you all of me, and take all that you have to give. I never just fuck you, never simply love you; I consume you. You are and will always be mine, endlessly. My wife, my Queen, my love, my desire, my toy. MY everything.