Russ should be home any time now. He's been out snowboarding with his best friends again. I love when he does that. It makes him hot. I don't know what he fantasizes about out there on the snow; maybe someday he'll trust me enough to tell me, but just thinking about his hard body sliding freely down the slopes is enough to make me quiver deep in my belly, wanting him, waiting for him.
He tells me it's a spiritual thing, the wildness of the mountain, the crisp air, the sky, the trees, maneuvering, out-maneuvering the landscape. I believe him. He does everything like that. Everything – from fixing a salad to playing guitar to . . . to . . . his mastery of me, my heart, my soul like a window that opens at his touch, only for him.
There's something about a man who has that much mastery of his body. I don't know what it is, but he's inspired me to get back to work overcoming my fears and trauma to improve my own fitness a bit. I've always needed that kind of inspiration for this to really work. I decided to start with resuming my Qi Gong practice. I've committed to formal training, which means I undertake to abstain from sex for 100 days. Last time I managed to abstain from orgasm for 40 days. It was a profound healing experience for me. This time promises to be even more so. A little yoga wouldn't hurt me none, either.
I try to imagine what it must be like to snowboard. It's something I don't think I'll ever trust my body to do, but I do crave that kind of freedom. Of course, it could turn out to be like lid-less cars and motorcycles. I hate having my hair blown or mussed in any way, but once I drove a Z3 all the way up Trail Ridge. The freedom of driving in the open air was a totally unexpected thrill. Now, I'll do that any chance I get. Motorcycles pretty much the same. It took Amanda to get me on her Harley before I dared try that one at all. Amanda is a safety freak and I knew that every possible precaution was being taken, so I let her give me a ride for a few block. That did it. I was hooked.
Snowboarding would put my body in much closer contact with . . . well, with Creation, I think. I'm sure I'd get totally high on it. And when I get that high, an orgasm can be just a breath away. Flying would be even more freeing, but for the moment flying with my feet on the ground would do it for me. God, what if I could (and this is a total fantasy), but what if I could lie naked at the base of a (very soft) tree with my legs spread. I can imagine Russ flying naked across the snow toward me with his thick hard cock aiming right for my wet pussy.
God, how I'd arch my back and scream into that thrust!
He has so much power . . . and so much control.
Until Russ, I let no one, I mean I let nobody tease me the way he does. Strictly 4/4, you guys. Wait was a 4-letter word. Oh, they could tease me some, but I had little patience for it. All I wanted was fast, hard, steady thrusts. That's still pretty much the best way to get me to come. I have to focus to get over that edge. It takes a lot of trust and letting go. I didn't think I could ever make it over the edge on a drawn out syncopated stop and go rhythm. Until him.
I was wrong.
Sometimes it's so nice to be so wrong.
Russ's thrusts are like Miles Davis on his best day. Think "Sketches of Spain." Lazy lilts, la-dee-da. Oh, you like that, little girl? Well, I'm going to . . . stop and suddenly, I'm empty, back arched, my pussy sucking the air for more.
Damn!
I am so wet.
He can read me. His hands pull my hair away from my face. His eyes search mine. I can feel his motor idling while he drinks me into him. When I least expect it he slams his cock all the way back into me, burying himself to the hilt.
Jesus! More! PLEEEEAAASE!!!
"Oh, sorry," says he. "Did I hurt you?" He's mocking me. He knows that when I'm surrendered to his body there is no pain. Even his most brutal contact is ecstacy.
A guttural animal sound is all I can manage. I thrash and pound my fists against the bed. He's got me pinned on my back so I can't move - his enormous and very sexy hands holding my wrists, his feet somehow binding mine to the bed.
"RUSS, PLEASE!!!"
