This semi-autobiographical short is dedicated to my Master, best friend, lover and partner in honour of one of our special songs. While not exactly accurate, it parallels a real-life Sunday morning spent in His arms, except my humble words never do those moments with Him justice.
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Frejya watched the gentle rise and fall of His chest. The sound of His snores were the sweetest music to her ears. Her lips turned softly up in a Mona Lisa smile as her fingers slipped through the springy hairs that covered His chest. She had from that first night nicknamed it her 'fuzzy pillow.' He just shook His head indulgently at her creative license.
She was exhausted too. They had spent much of the night making love. Her eyes caught on the dark blue and purple oval bruise rising on her upper arm that was draped across His chest. Yes, making love was the correct term, she thought. It might include more than its fair share of pain, biting, spanking and anything else that His sadistic mind could cogitate.
Equally, it abounded with pleasure that not even she would have thought possible. It transcended the multiple orgasms that He gave her. Those were common enough for a woman, whose favourite actress had once been Marilyn Chambers in Insatiable. Oh yes, that young women, who had watched in awe at her orgasmic abilities, had grown up to be just like her heroine. An idiot could make her come and more than a couple had. But with Him, the multiple orgasm were more like one very long one. She smiled as she looked across the room at the clock. Twenty-five hours and counting of orgasmic bliss.
He stirred slightly in her arms, burrowing His face into the softness of her breast. She inhaled sharply as His lips brushed a soft kiss to the fading yellowish-green mark. It would be gone in a couple of days, but that was all right. He had left a couple dozen more as sweet reminders of His love to tide her over until they could meet again. She stroked His head softly as she pressed a soft kiss to His closed eye lids.
The fingers of her other hand traced the road map of soft lines around His eyes and across His forehead. They were a gentle reminder that time was not in their favour. She had spent half a lifetime searching for this man, this perfect love. A man worthy of her all.
She caressed His temples. The brain that lay just beneath its surface enthralled her. He was a fountain of information, seemingly useless facts, but they fed her thirst for knowledge, for mental stimulation, for conversation. As a sapiosexual, this one quality was more important than all others. And she loved the fact that He challenged her, stretched her and made her strive just a bit harder than she ever had, not to disappoint Him.
Disappointing Him was the one thing that scared her the most. The one thing that she hated doing above all others. It was what drove her to new mental heights. It was what gave her the strength to face whatever challenges arose in her life when they were not together. It was what allowed her to endure pain that He inflicted well past her masochistic threshold. The simple truth was that she wanted to make this man proud. She wanted to be all that He ever needed or wanted.
Just as He was more than she had ever dreamt possible. She sighed as she pressed another kiss to His temples. Her throat constricted and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. His strength humbled her. He faced so fucking much. More than anyone should. Struggles that would break most men, turn them bitter. But not Him. No, each day, each obstacle, every hurdle only made Him stronger and wiser. Nothing got Him down for long. It was His indomitable spirit that had first spoken to her, attracted her to His writings and ultimately the man Himself.
She jumped as the pain arched through her breast. The neurons in her addled brain struggled to register all the sensations. Pain, yes, most definitely. But it was laced with pleasure too as it fed her masochist. Her legs automatically fell open for her Master as she felt His hand caress up her thigh, seeking His cunt. His eyes were still closed, but she saw that mischievous smile upon His lips as they stretched across the expanse of her breast. She smiled too, noting that there would be a fresh bruise to cover the fading one.
