(Molly, Mick and the two surly teens are now parked at DFW airport, cooling our heals. We still have a flight to ABQ and a 3 hour drive to our mountain hideaway to look forward to. But presuming we make it, we look forward to waking up to the beautiful mountain, the sun rising and lighting up our bedroom. When that happens the long trip will have been worthwhile. Of course, Slave won't be in a state of mind for posting in the a.m. There will be a Mistress to please, and then wrestling all that ski paraphenalia up the mountain for a day on the slopes. So, I asked our Senior Correspondent to pitch in.... and like the hard working over achiever that she is, she delivered.... have a good Saturday, all. And thank you, Donna.)
I tutored football players as a means of making ends meet while in college and one player, in particular, I dated more than a few times. He was a good looking hulk of a guy. One evening we went to a movie house and watched some dull and desperate film required for his humanities class. We shared a few brews followed by some kissy face and some hand wandering and, since I was still living in the dorm and had a prude as a roommate, a trip to his apartment. I was so jazzed, so anxious to experience this sexy looking man that I worked extra hard to ignore the stench from his dirty gym clothes strewn here and there and the stained jock strap on the kitchen counter. With firm resolve to scrub my entire body with Comet upon returning to my dorm, I leaned into Mr. Football and we began the dance of…something.
Have you ever seen birds copulate? If you blink, you’ll miss it. And, bless his heart, Rocco was the same way. I tried to get him to slow down, to let me help him a bit in this endeavor as I did in his academic subjects, but he only knew and wanted missionary position and as fast as he was on his feet on the football field, he was also that fast to the goal line in the bedroom. I was left with that old Peggy Lee song running through my head, Is That All There Is? Tilt! We tried again, repeatedly in fact, but the poor guy only knew that one pattern and wasn’t interested in trying anything new or even hearing about anything different. He passed his classes and I admit that I was not terribly saddened by his move to another city.
Now before you write me off as a monster, let me assure you that if he had given me any inkling that he might be willing to let lovemaking be a team sport (for the two of us not the entire football team…although that might have had some merit, too) I would have been happy to continue dating him. But I knew I needed something that a sprinter couldn’t offer. And I couldn’t have been too cruel because he continued to call me from time to time hoping we could get back together, even the morning that Bill and I were married.
Bill and I have been friends since we were kids. My brother was his best friend so we were around one another a great deal as teenagers. Initially, of course, not together in a sexual way but as found we had a teasing streak in common and that we understood the undercurrents to one another’s jokes, things heated up. Even as young people Bill and I were good lovers. With plenty of foreplay and a bit of bondage we would begin building the mood and then shifting gears, we would kick it up and over into reckless abandon. Adding in a few spanks and a bite or two from Bill and we were both headed over the edge! We didn’t know what it was really called (the kinky part) but we knew we both liked it and knew that is wasn’t all that common. Then, as often happens, we went our separate ways after high school, Bill toward the land of Hurricanes and me toward Gatorland.
By the time we found one another again a few years after college, we had both had enough sexual experiences to recognize that together we had something special not shared by many. Bill had developed his Dom nature and, while a tough cookie outside our home, my need to be submissive in the bedroom was clear to us both. We didn’t have much club experience, and the internet wasn’t available the way it is now, but for us it has always been about BDSM and love. I firmly believe that to leave out either component would have left both of us wanting and incomplete.
Every once in a while someone will ask me whether it has been boring being with the same man all these years. My answer is “Hell , No! When Bill mounts me from behind like the wild stallion that he is, it feels powerful and animalistic and it is a wonderful thing! As he reaches around to twist my nipples and pinch and swat my clit, I scream with that mix of pain and delight known only to the kinky.”
Of course, by that point whoever asked me that question is usually backward away…very slowly.
