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| Blogs > rm_SensualSapio > Well Crafted Words Turn Me On |
Moving On
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Moving On Her gut sense has been right. They had gone to a B&B for the weekend, mostly because there was a park close to it with several outstanding waterfalls. It was late September. The change to fall color was in full swing. They planned to work on photographing the reflections of the leaf color in the swirling water around the waterfalls. After a long day outside, focusing hard on making images, they went for supper to a small restaurant recommended by the B&B host. It was quiet, and almost empty. The food was great, a mixture of Italian and Greek. They both skipped their usual bottle of red wine, asking for a simple beer to drink with their meal instead. By the end of supper, her energy had come back. She decided it was time to have the conversation with him, the one in which she laid out what she was feeling and wanting about their sexual interaction. He listened carefully, but as some point, when she started to talk about sometimes wanting to be the one in control of their bedroom sessions together, she felt him tune out. His body was still there, but his mind was no longer there for her. She kept on trying to explain what she was feeling and wanting from him. But it was clear that all she was getting back was the appearance of listening, not real tuned in taking her in. That night was the first time in their weekend trips away that they did not engage in some form of sex. He said that he was tired, and not feeling well after tramping through the park all day. He wondered aloud if maybe he was coming down with something – perhaps an early fall flu. She could not sleep. From his breathing, she knew that he was in fact gone and not pretending. She had always enjoyed watching him sleep beside her, and knew all of his sleep patterns well. But she could not stay beside him. She got up carefully, put her thick, long B&B be proper robe over her nakedness. Then she carefully left their room. She ended up in the B&B’s sitting room, wrapped in a blanket, legs tucked up under her in a big comfortable arm chair, reflecting on the last months with him. She realized that she had a choice. She could bring her needs, wants and feelings up again. But she wondered if he would react differently. The thought that rather than coming down with something, he was coming down from her started in the far reaches of her mind, and moved front and centre. She no longer was the enthusiastic follower of his erotic lead. Now she wanted more. Now at times, she wanted to be one in control. She wanted to top him from time to time, as much as she wanted to be bottom to his top at others. She felt that this was fair, and a great way to continue to explore her sexuality, a trip on which he had started her. She drowsed a bit, and then woke up with a start to the ideas that he was hiding who he really was behind his “leader of her” role. Or maybe that was all he was, someone who comfortable relating to her as long as he was the designated sexual leader. At times, he felt like some of the men who came across like sensitive doms she had been reading about on Fet Life. They seemed sensitive to the needs of their submissive partners, but were really only so as long as the sub stayed within the man’s comfort boundaries. To her, these men seemed like most of the men that she knew, users of a women’s sexuality, rather than a partner dedicated to exploring both his and her needs. They were perfectly comfortable being sensitive, as long as the sexual interaction did not require them to fact their own limits or ask them to explore news ways of personally responding to a woman’s sexually. She reflected back through their weekends together. There had been a lot of great sex. She had enjoyed it, and the opportunity to engage in her love of photography. But sitting here, in the middle of the night by her self in a strange B&B siting room, she came to an insight about him. She was the better photographer. Her technical skill exceeded his. Her sense of image and composition was more creative and more graceful than his. Whenever she has made suggestions to him about how he do things with his camera and lenses, or frame a composition, he ignored her ideas. She could not remember a single time when he had acted on what she had suggested. She could not bring back a single thank you for something he had found useful. He was never not polite, or annoyed for more than a brief moment. He just simply ignored what she had said, except for the brief flash of surliness that ran across his face when she first made a suggestion about how he could take a better picture. She wondered if the way he responded to her ideas when they were photographing together would be the way he responded when she made suggestions about their future sexual exchange. Eventually, she fell asleep in the chair. The sound of someone moving around in the kitchen beside the sitting room woke her up early, before the sun. Her legs were cramped under her. She got up and walked to the dark sitting room window, keeping the blanket up over her shoulders. She stretched up and left the feeling of crampiness in her legs behind her. “Morning, want to come in for an early coffee. It just ready. Or if you want privacy, I can bring it in here. You take it black if I remember correctly, “said the B&B host had poked her head in through the kitchen -sitting room door “I’s like to come into the kitchen, as long as you don’t mind un-talkative guests in an unattractive robe cluttering up your morning kitchen.” “No problem. I have lots to do. We are catering a dinner for a party of 22 this afternoon, and I am earlier than usual when all I have to do is make breakfast for my B&B guests. I have lots of food prep to keep me busy.” Installed in the kitchen’s east facing window seat, with a pot of coffee and breakfast cake, cream cheese, fresh fruit and jams on a small table beside her, she watched the sun come up, announcing the beginning of what will be a glorious sun filled early fall day. As she sat there, quietly sipping her coffee, she recalled her dreams. In them, she had clearly been going down on someone other than him. She had delighted in her sexual lead of a man whose face and body who shifted between one of the better looking married hunks at her office and one of her favorite male movie stars. As her recollections came to an end, she could have sex with whom ever she wanted. She had not committed to him in any forever or long term way. There had been what she took to be an exclusivity agreement between him and her as long as they were seeing one another. But she now realized that this was something she had made up in her mind. She had never directly asked him not to see other women, or men for that matter. They had had the necessary conversation about disease and safe sex. He had agreed that he would do nothing to expose her to the possibility of sexually transmitted disease. Condoms and some thoughtfulness would take care of that. But she now knew that he had never explicitly agreed to see her only. She started her second cup of coffee, then ate some of the fruit, and a piece of the breakfast cake with cream cheese. She was having breakfast without him, for the first time on any of their weekends together. It felt freeing. In that moment, she decided. She has been putting off a number of business trips to out-of-town for months. She could easily arrange this work travel so that she would be tied up for the next 3 or 4 weekends. She wanted space and time to work through all of her feelings: about what she was experiencing, about the new longings she was having, and about what she really thought and felt about him. Based on their conversation last night, she guessed that he would not be upset about this. She went back up to their room. He was still asleep. They always slept together naked, skin to skin. She dropped her robe on the floor, and carefully slide down the sheets as she crept onto the bed beside him. She placed herself so she could take his soft penis into her mouth. With a great deal of affection and thankfulness, as well as joy in her ability to give, she brought him to erection, then to orgasm and ejaculation. She swallowed his semen with a new sense of pride in her skill as an orchestrator of male sexual satisfaction. She told him about her need to travel for business in the next weeks as they were driving back to her home. She was right. He calmly accepted what she had to say, only saying o.k. He turned the car radio to the jazz station they normally listened to while driving as soon as she had finished talking. He said nothing more on the drive back. He smiled at her and said “Goodbye”, when she left his car with her bag at her apartment building door. Thanks for visiting Hope that my words Left you with a stirring or a thought or two Leave a comment please even it is only a word or two ... |
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