We all have fears and insecurities. My fears are trauma-related. My insecurities could fill a stadium. Sexually, my fears lie with consent. My insecurities run the gamut-my looks, my ability to please, the list goes on.
I seek security, acceptance. I need to know, gently if possible, what I could work on. I love to be praised.
I love being spoken to in my escapades. Unfortunately, even without a gag to enforce it, I am silent. I dare not speak. God, do I want to, though!
I crave roughness, but like the gentlemen that he is, my loving husband remains reserved. My past trauma worries him. He never wants me to associate his lovemaking with torture. So, I've waited on myself to be ready. I need to come out of my shell, to show him I can handle it. Can I? I hungered for it, not really knowing the answer.
My hubby came home, wrapped his arm around my waist, and kissed my neck from behind. "Hey, Baby." he said warmly.
I smiled brightly. I had another idea for this journey.
"Hi, Hun." Without any preface, I jump right in. "I think I know what we could do next."
"Oh yeah? Does it have to do with winning the lottery?" he joked.
I smirked, "No."
I turn to face him, wrap my arms around his waist, and press my hips to his. "I want you to get firm with me."
"I get firm FOR you" he joked again. "You know how I feel about that, though." He kissed my forehead and went to the fridge for a soda.
"Yeah, I know. I was hoping we could ease into it. No, not into me, though that is the likely result."
"Hmm...how?" he asked.
"Let's get the kids down and we can begin." I grinned. I was giddy and nervous.
He gave me a bemused look. "Ok, but I could just eat you for dessert..."
That evening, I did my due diligence. I waited for our dear monsters to be asleep for at least an hour. I wanted no interruptions.
In our room, I found my husband fresh from a shower. He was toweling off his delicious body. I nearly began to drool.
"So...what are we doing tonight?"
I took his towel away and placed it to dry as I begun to get wet. "You are going to tell me what to do. Nothing outright forceful, no restraints, no spanking or cat o' nine tails. You are going to tell me anything and everything that you want me to do. You will tell me firmly, but sweetly. You will coax sexual perfection from me. If I displease you in the slightest, I want to be corrected. If I please you, I want to know it. This will build my confidence while helping me to accept criticism in my most vulnerable state-naked before you."
"Well, ok. What are the boundaries? What won't you do?" he asked, mulling over my words.
"My only wish is your ultimate pleasure. I am at your mercy. I submit to your will in totality."
He grinned and let out a deep breath.
His demeanor changed like the chameleon he is. "Let's begin." The words were heated with desire, but flat, insistent.
He didn't bother with clothes, though it was obvious that he wanted mine to fall from my form to the floor.
