My mouth waters, and I hunger
At the simple sight of you.
Seeing and knowing, what resides
Under your thin, cloth packaging.
It’s Christmas Eve. The tree twinkles with white lights. The stockings hang awaiting their bounty. Gifts are wrapped, cookies baked and the smells of Christmas waft through the rooms. Everyone is scurrying around doing last minute chores, shopping or wrapping, except me. I sit her at my computer, wanting to give thanks and put into words, how I’m feeling this Holiday.
Four years ago, on Christmas, I ran away from home. I felt lost, desperate, confused, and I hate to admit, but suicidal. I fled in the middle of the night, with nowhere to go, so I found myself checking into a hotel just down the road from my house, where my family slept. I can remember climbing into the bed in that room, and closing my eyes, hoping to never awaken. Thankfully, I did.
I awoke to the phone ringing in my room. It was the front desk telling me there was someone in the lobby, claiming to be my husband, that wanted to see me. I told them I’d be right down. Apparently, when he woke and found me gone, he had spent the night attempting to find me and finally tracked my credit card to the hotel. We talked. Can’t say we accomplished anything except he made it crystal clear that he would NOT leave me alone until I came home. So, I did, arriving before anyone else was awake and all still oblivious of my insanity flight the night before.
I tell this story because I have come out the other side of that and am feeling blessed and my heart is full again. It’s taken a Ton of work, even more tears and a willingness on everyone’s part to pick up, move forward and heal. Mostly, it’s been up to me to change the dialogue in my head.
It never mattered what anyone said to me or about me, I was instantly ready to give a list of the reasons that I was ugly, bad and unworthy. Some of that negative self-talk came from what others had said to me, but mostly it was about what I had told myself. While that nasty voice still rears its ugly head, I have learned things I can do to quiet its ass quickly now.
I have a husband I wouldn’t have survived without. My two kids are my entire world and I couldn’t be prouder of them. I am still a bit estranged from my mom, but I guess we are working on it, so that’s something. And I have a group of friends that will call me on my bullshit, give me their sleeve to wipe away my tears and hold my hair after a night out of nothing but fun and laughter. What more could anyone ask for?
So, I am going to enjoy the remainder of today and tomorrow, celebrating with my family. After that, I have no idea what will happen, but I do know that I am excited about the possibilities and look forward to the adventure. Merry Christmas to you and yours and may 2020 be your BEST YEAR Yet!!
WE DID IT!!!
I’m gonna start with some background. Anal sex was Completely OFF the table for both of us for years. Neither one of us was interested at all. When D/s and BDSM became part of our lives, suddenly we were discussing the possibilities. Maybe we would try? We might now be interested? Worth a try?
Three years ago, after beginning some play, experimentation and EPIC fails, we were finally successful at penetration. Unfortunately, due to a comedy of errors that were NOT funny at all, it became a disastrous memory. I wrote about my hurt afterwards. https://missameliaandsir.wordpress.com/2015/11/30/i-bared-my-soul/
For the past three years, we waffled between Never again, Maybe, I want to, No Way, Let’s try, Someday. The mental block was by far the Biggest Hurdle, but we had another HUGE problem too. Professor is Extremely Well Hung. We’ve had suggestions that we just stop trying because that thing will NEVER fit Anyone (LUCKY ME!!!). I must admit, I had almost given up any hope of ever having success.
Then came Friday night. Professor had planned an At Home Date night for us. It began with instructions on what to do, what to wear and inform him when I was ready. It proceeded to a private space where we talked, teased, spanked, sweated and fucked hard. It was a perfect evening. We were both tired and climbed into bed to snuggle and drift off to sleep. Being the constant perv he is, Professor began lightly rubbing the tip of his cock over my ass, telling me how much he enjoyed watching my plug move with every thrust. I was enjoying the sensation and asked if he wanted to try one more time. With lube applied, we weren’t sure his partially hard cock would even go in. Finally, with me relaxing and pushing back on his cock, Professor announced he was in. Tentatively, we began our familiar rhythm of thrust and pull. I could feel him growing inside me. It was SO TIGHT and burned, but I didn’t want it to stop. I could hear him reaching the edge of his cliff, so I began asking, “Fuck my ass Daddy. PLEASE Fuck my ass.” With skin tearing in his powerful grip, he climaxed and filled my ass with the first cum it had ever experienced.
I immediately burst into deep, sobbing tears. I couldn’t believe we had done it. Professor, fighting through his own emotions, clutched me tightly and claimed me, “MINE!” It was EXACTLY what I needed to hear. I wasn’t able to give him my virginity, it was gone before we ever met, but THIS was HIS, and HIS ALONE.
He began checking in on me, asking how I was feeling. I just wanted to lay in this connected space for a few more seconds and bask in the warmth. After we separated, and cleaned up, we couldn’t stop smiling and touching each other. It was a closeness I can’t even describe. We drifted off to sleep, laying close, with his hand resting on my ass cheek and him again declaring, “MINE!”
Epilogue: A couple days later, I’m still a bit sore, and LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT! XOXOXO
When I arrived at my car, after a LONG day of work, on my Birthday, I found this in a nice little envelope on my driver’s seat. It was written by Professor on actual white Birch bark. It left me breathless. I’m a VERY LUCKY girl!
Walk with me
Through the White Birch Woods
Lay for me on the moss-draped log
Remove your clothes for me, and lay touching the earth
Feel the sun strike your skin and your passion rise
Open yourself to me, and show me the sweet heaven
Where your sex resides
Gasp for me
As I plunge tongue to flesh and lap
Arch your back for me, as ecstasy unfolds in trembling body
And fists clench in cool, damp moss
Feel small for me, as you call forth the stream
Down your thigh and to the moss
Seeking its path to the winding river
Soar for me, beyond the limbs and white crowns
Free from the earthly tethers that hold you back and worry your mind
Until you reach the clouds above
Where I will grasp you, and pull you gently to me
Make you warm, and keep you safe
Walk with me
Through the White Birch Woods
Thus she found herself at the edge of a 6’x5’ hole, three feet deep, watching him dig, on the first Saturday in October. They had left early, in the dark, and arrived while the sun was still low, and the air decidedly chilly. He paused from his digging, thrusting the shovel handle-first toward her. “Rock bar, please” he said, and she grasped the shovel handle and leaned the rock bar toward him. He worked the hard ground on the bottom of the pit, prying loose another layer of rock, deepening the pit by another four inches. The sun had now risen above the trees, and the air was rapidly warming. He paused to remove his sweatshirt, tossed it across a downed log, and resumed plunging the rock bar into the stubborn bottom of the pit. Her core tingled ever so slightly as she began watching his arms move, as he raised and rapidly dropped the bar. It was solid steel and heavy, but he moved it with apparent ease. “Shovel please” he asked, and she took the rock bar from him and passed back the shovel. He was cleaning the last of the dirt from the corner of the pit, when the shovel gave a loud CLANK against a melon-sized rock under the dirt. Rather than ask for the rock bar again, he jammed the shovel under the corner of the rock and gave a hard downward tug. With a sharp CRACK, the shovel handle parted, a long, angled break forming mid-handle.
“Fuck” he swore, followed by a quick “sorry” as he glanced at her. Always the professional, she thought. “Well, that’s what I get for being impatient” he said, eying the two broken pieces in his hands.
“Can you fix it?” she asked.
“Oh, I could strap it back together with some fiberglass tape, make it work for cleaning out the hole, but really, we’re done”. As he spoke he was turning the upper part of the handle in his hands, eyeing it thoughtfully. “Hickory…..hard as nails, and polished by hundreds of hours of handling. I suppose I’ll find some use for this”. He laid the two broken pieces of the shovel next to the pit, and climbed out.
It was then that she noticed that he was looking intently at her, in a direct way he never had before. There was a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “You’re still wearing your sweatshirt, and here I am down to my T” he said.
“You’ve been digging. I’ve just been……..watching.” she said, smiling back at him slightly. He studied her for a moment, then reached down and took her hand. She tingled in response to his grasp, strong, confident, yet so unexpected.
“Do you know about the power of the October sun?” he asked. She stared directly into his eyes.
“No” she replied, and he pulled gently on her hand and said “Then let me show you”.
He led her just a few yards, through the tall yellow grass, to the edge of the ridge, where the slope dropped away sharply to the southeast. A large dead fir had fallen and lay in front of them, suspended 4 feet from the ground. He stopped her, stepped behind her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. His grip was firm, guiding her to within arm’s reach of the fallen fir. “Close your eyes” he said “and tilt your face up to the sun. Put your hands on the back of the log. Tell me what you feel”. She did as he instructed, and felt a slight shiver course through her. She did not know where he was going with this, but she knew she wanted to find out.
“The sun…..it feels good on my face. The log…..is still cold.”
“Now, slide your hands over the top of the log to the side away from you, slowly. Tell me what you feel now.” She moved her hands, gradually feeling the cold give way to warm, and then to nearly hot.
“North versus south aspect” she said smiling. “You taught us that in Forest Ecology.”
He laughed softly, still holding on to her shoulders. “Glad you remember something from then. Now, take off your sweatshirt.” It was not a demand. It was simply stated as if it were the next logical step. He dropped his hands from her shoulders as she peeled the heavy hooded sweatshirt over her head.
She glanced back at him and asked “what next?” He gently placed his hands on the side of her face and turned it back toward the sun.
To be continued….
Story Written by Professor
They sat by the glow of the campfire, him leaning against the trunk of a massive ponderosa, his knees parted slightly, she leaning against his chest, resting her arms on his legs. “Tell me a story” she said. He ran his hands over her shoulders, gripped the base of her neck firmly, and began massaging between her shoulder blades with his thumbs. And then he began…….
She stood at the edge of the hole, looking down watching him dig. She leaned on a heavy steel rock bar, handing it to him at his request. He stood down in the hole, shovel in hand, cleaning out the dirt and rocks with deft, hard strokes. Strangely, she found herself becoming slightly aroused watching him work. Even though he still wore his sweatshirt in the morning chill, there was something stimulating in watching him labor physically.
She had found herself on this mountain with him quite unexpectedly. She knew him from three years earlier, when she had taken classes from him at the community college where he was a professor. She had been attracted to him then but shyly, secretly, certainly not in a way she would voice to anyone. She was 24 at the time, he was…well, she didn’t know how old he was, but she thought he was probably older than he seemed. She wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was about him she found so appealing. His looks were fine, average was the word that came to mind. But it was his way, his being, that spoke to her. He was always quick to smile. His sense of humor showed often in class, and he was so damned smart. At least, he was good at making it seem that way. That’s what he had said when another student had jokingly asked f there was anything he didn’t know. He had smiled and laughed that laugh again, always looking down slightly, as if embarrassed. “It’s easy to look smart. I just have a head full of mostly useless party facts that are news to you guys”. Maybe the humility in the face of his own intelligence was part of the attraction. It didn’t matter. She just knew that by the time she was finishing her last class, she was wondering what he might be like in …….other ways.
But he gave no hint of any reciprocal attraction. Fun as he was in class, there was never a hint of unprofessionalism, no inkling of even the slimmest thought of impropriety.
So it came to her as a great surprise when 3 years later he had asked her if she’d like to accompany him to the mountains. She had stopped by his office, to say hello and ask if he had any leads on jobs. She had left the community college and finished a Bachelor’s degree at the university, but jobs were a little slow in coming. He’d given her a few announcements, a few phone numbers to try, and offered words of encouragement. And then the conversation had turned to what each had done with their summers. His eyebrow raised when she said she had taken up archery, and was considering going elk hunting with some friends the following year. “But I really don’t know a damned thing about it” she’d said.
“Well, then you should come with me this weekend” he offered. “I am headed to the Blues to put in my rifle camp. We hunt a road closure area there and bury all our non-perishable food and gear in a big pit before they lock the gate in mid-October. I’ve got extra people coming this year, and I need to make the dang pit bigger. None of those slackers can help with putting in camp, so you can come and be my assistant, and I can show you some of what I know about elk”. She found herself grinning and saying yes without much hesitation.
To be continued….
Story Written by Professor
Professor and I are traveling. We are out of state, spending some time with my Bestie and her family!! After dropping our daughter off at camp, we made our way to the airport, excited to have a few days of relaxation and fun.
Being summer, the airports are almost always busy, but we were very pleased when we arrived and were able to quickly get us, and our bag, checked in. We decided to go ahead and get through security and then have a bite to eat before our flight. We were again very pleased to find the lines through security to be fairly short, so we jumped in line, rapidly made our way through the cattle maze and advanced into the security screening.
Shoes off, pockets emptied and bags going down the conveyor belt, I enter the scanner and assume the position. I am quickly and easily waved on through and focus on getting to our belongings, sitting on the end of the belt.
I look back to see Professor emerging from the scanner, but he is being pulled to the side. I hear the agent asking him if he would like to go to a private area for a full pat down. Professor and I both look confused, but he says, “No, just get it over with here. May I ask what the problem is?” The security guard firmly answers that the scanner picked up something in his right pocket and pant leg. Professor quickly pulls his pocket out of his denim shorts and shows that it is completely empty. Security still insist that they must check because there was an object detected. Professor tells him fine and the agent begins patting him down.
Using the back of his hand, he begins felling around his waist, proceeds down his hips, up the inside of his thighs and ends with a surprised, “Oh!” as he runs up the right front of Professors pants.
At this moment, I come to the realization that the scanner had picked up the bulge of Professors ENORMOUS penis down his right leg! He no longer wears underwear, so his junk often creeps down his leg. I have to admit that I almost wet myself laughing at this moment. Professor couldn’t help but smile and let out his own laugh as security waved him on.
So, my friends, we now have national security proof that I am one VERY LUCKY GIRL!!
I DID IT!!
I CONQUERED THE ZIP LINE COURSE!!
For those who don’t know, this Bitch is TERRIFIED of heights. Always have been. Recently, since coming to terms with my own depression, and helping my daughter battle hers, I have decided to say “Fuck It” whenever possible, and practical. SO, this last weekend, when Professor and I went away for a much needed couple’s weekend, I planned a surprise. We went to a 5 line course near where we were staying. He couldn’t believe I was even going to attempt it, and actually, neither did I. This is where my new “Fuck It” attitude came into play.
As my knees knocked and my stomach tried desperately to purge itself of all contents, I suited up and did the first short zip. Our guides were AFUCKINGMAZING and helped me fly. It was easy and I was smiling when I reached the end.
We were informed that we had to have a Zip Call Name, so I quickly became Vixen. No surprise there.
The second zip wasn’t too bad either. A little higher and faster, but completely doable.
The third zip sent you even higher, further and ended up in a tree on a platform. I must admit I was beginning to shake even more, but I did it.
The fourth zip took you through the tree tops and was the longest yet. I had already come this far, so I flew again.
Now comes the fifth zip. That son of a bitch is 44 feet further than a quarter mile, and sails you way up over the tree tops. The picture above is actually of that run. I decided I wasn’t going to chicken out now, so I took a deep breath and jumped. My heart was racing even faster than I was whizzing along, but the views were spectacular, the wind in my face was glorious and as I arrived on the other side, Professor greeted me with a HUGE smile, hug, kiss and possibly a tear threatening to overflow. To see the pride on his face made every shaky moment TOTALLY worth it!
Would I do it again you ask? The answer is yes, but can’t say it’s something I plan on doing on any kind of regular basis. I conquered a fear that has held me back in the past. I still have fears, and probably always will, but from now on, sometimes, I’m just going to say “Fuck It” and Fly!!
A Submissive Journey
(Giggle) The title says it all really
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My Journey through total power exchange
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Blogging about life, love, sex, BDSM and the universe in general. NSFW 18+
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