Reverse

I’ve decided to talk more about my life these last few months. After all, its juicy details you want, yes?

Not long after I started, I met a client named C. I think I wrote about him because he gave the best oral I’d had in a LONG long time. Until I met Alan of course….and you’ve heard some about Alan, havent you? The last one who broke my heart. Hopefully the last. C. and I met on about 2-3 occasions, always in a darkened hotel room. He didnt speak much, he had this mysterious quietude to him. He didnt need to speak tho…he know what to do and how to do it. He was all about pleasing me, and he did. Oh, did he. Afterwards we’d sit on the bed…he in an indian-style and I’d have my head resting on his lap while we talked.

He told me initially that he was a quiet man so I knew what to expect but from the starting point of our conversations there was no silence. He was in the military, he said. But he was out and had a computer type job working with servers. His intelligence was obvious and I liked every second we spoke. He told me about his military experiences but he could only take it so far…I am assuming from what he did and didnt tell me is that it had something to do with highly sensitive subjects. His secretiveness made him that much more appealing to me.

We made plans to see each other again…and then….silence. Nothing for over a month. Silently, sadly, I shrugged it off. I am used to men coming and going, literally and figuratively.

Then I met Alan. Didnt see that coming by a long shot. He blew my mind in so many ways. When I met him, I could tell he hadnt been with many women. My thoughts were confirmed when this amazingly gorgeous 39 year old man told me he had only been with 5 others in his life, including me. He wanted to please me. He told me what ever I wanted, he would do even if it meant pain for him. I told him that I liked it rough and surely and slowly he did things the way I loved. Everytime we experienced each other we would reach this heightened sense of desire and wanting to please the other. He knew I liked to be filmed so we could watch ourselves or he could watch it when we were not together….so he bought a new video camera and tripod. He brought along his digital camera also, taking the most erotic pictures of me and us…the image so perfectly frozen in time.

About the same time, he learned I liked to be restrained and suffocated…a practice better known as erotic axphixia. I had dabbled a little it in with Eddie…but never to the extent that Alan took me. But I trusted him. I loved him so much, I would allow him to tie me up and literally cut off my air while violating me in the most delicious ways. I can only explain the sensation of flying and trust and wanting more.

He’d bring along his waterskiing rope. He’d tie it to the headboard…then begin at my wrists…the tieing would be well-thought out…the contentration on his face..oh how I’d watch it. One time I asked…what are you going to do to me (he was smiling evilily) and he answered…Oh don’t you worry about what I’m gonna do, you will find out soon enough.

He’d circle it around my large breasts, until the colour would change. The pain was wonderful and I knew it pleased him. At times he would tie it in other ways that it went between my legs…or I’d be on my stomach, hands behind my back and then the rope went between my legs. How can I describe it? I dont know that I can. It was amazing..he was amazing and everytime we did this, he’d improve his craft.

The times he’d block my air he would do it in many ways. He’d pinch my nose and give me a wonderful long deep french kiss. He would let go when HE wanted to let go. At times we used the rope around my throat. That always left a ligature mark. Then came the duct tape..on my mouth…on my nose…and I would come and come and my eyes would beg him to let me breathe but he knew when to let it off and then kiss me.

If he spanked me…the more we became familiar lovers the harder he would do it. If I tried to interfere by putting my hand back to stop the pain I’d get it worse. Oh but then he’d give me the sweetest kisses where it burned. I always came home with telling marks on my breasts…on my neck….I didnt seem to care. Its not that John looked anyway. And it was such a delicious reminder of being taken so roughly.

I think I awakened something in him he didnt know existed or never expanded on with another. I know his churchy wife didnt let him.

I miss him. I miss all of this so much at times it aches. I wonder if he misses me too?