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DeeEll -> Space (10/25/2011 7:20:56 PM)
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We meet at a motel in a large country town – anonymous and convenient, half way between His home and mine. The motel we have chosen allows early check in. I get there as early as possible and He normally arrives about fifteen to twenty minutes later. It allows me to check in, get to the room, unpack, set things up and prepare myself. My position of greeting is on my knees, naked, with my legs spread and my hands on my thighs with my palms up.
I am always excited and full of anticipation in the lead up to our meeting but the actuality of the preparation heightens everything. I get more and more excited as I potter around the room, placing lube, getting out my collar, the extra towels, turning down the covers, putting His drinks in the small refrigerator, putting the toiletries in the bathroom, stripping my clothes. Oh God even writing about this now excites me.
So there I am on my knees, waiting as He approaches. I have left the door on the latch so that He can push it open without me getting up from my position of subservience, of submission. I am so excited when He comes and stares down at me and on a couple of occasions I have actually orgasmed just from that look combined with the anticipation and the situation. So He stares down at me and sometimes He puts His hands out and helps me up and other times He goes to the bathroom, the toilet, washes His hands, adjusts the heating, leaving me there, nearly panting, enjoying the sight of me, enjoying the control and the power. He helps me up, immediately or eventually, and I undress Him. We do not kiss in greeting as we have discovered that if we kiss at this point, there is no control, there is no measured play, no chance of any protocol. If we kiss in a very short space of time we are fucking, so we avoid that in the beginning.
So I undress him and I am not allowed to touch, only incidentally, only as I remove His shirt, His trousers, His socks and shoes and His boxers. Then when He is naked, I kneel before and take His cock in my mouth. This moment is precious, exciting, rewarding, satisfying. As I take His cock into my mouth, He often grasps my hair, and thrust into my mouth, sometimes He lets me take the lead, but always it is a fantastic moment. At this point He either decides this is the way He is going to come for the first time or He decides He will enjoy this for a while and then we will proceed to whatever He has decided is on the agenda. Often I will have an orgasm during my oral ministration. I love the feel of my Master, the smell, taking Him in my mouth. I love how He enjoys my mouth. Rough or gentle, hard or soft. Hair pulled or left alone. Whatever He wants, whatever He takes. All of it. Every bit of it is fabulous.
As I take Him into my mouth I focus solely on what I am doing. He is my total focus, His cock and His reaction to what I am doing is the entirety of my existence. Often I set up a mantra, especially if I have let my excitement my own arousal start to get the better of me. He will remind me with a tug of my hair and a word to slow down and focus on Him and not my own pleasure, my pending orgasm, His cock, His pleasure, they are to be my prime focal point. Nothing exists for me outside the sensations I feel, nothing beyond the immediacy of what I am doing. When the action moves to the spa, filled with warm soothing water and He directs me to suck Him again I focus totally on His cock. As I lower my head my face goes below the surface of the water and I have to breathe on the up stroke. I have just enough presence of mind to make sure I time the breath in so that I get air and not water. But as I try to take all of His cock right down to the base in my mouth I focus only on that, only on the cock, on the sucking, on the importance of getting all of it in my mouth. I give no regard at all to myself. My self isn’t there, it has no existence, all that exists in what little thought I am aware of is the cock and the sucking and the giving, the service, the need to do this for Him. Any sense of self preservation, of survival, of individuality is gone. All there is, all I have in my mind, is the task, the job, what I have to do, that is the all, there is nothing else. Master sees that I have no regard for my breathing and that I am not aware that I am actually close to drowning. He holds me head up, palm on my forehead. He gently lifts my head up, lifts my mouth off His cock. I struggle to put my face back down in the water so that I can retain His cock in my mouth, so that I can keep going, so that I can BE. He is speaking. Sounds penetrate my mind. No consciousness of the actual words. I start to come back, start to regain my thoughts, my ability to decipher, to think, to hear and understand the words. He tells me that He has to stop me or I would drown, that I would have keep my face under water and taken water into my lungs rather than air, all in an attempt to keep sucking Him and to take more and more of Him into my mouth. And I look at him in despair, I want to keep going, I want it in my mouth, the drowning, the breathing - that isn’t important compared to the touching, the giving, the serving.
We are on the bed and He is laying on His back, I kneel beside Him, my knees spread, He has His hand up inside, four fingers and a His thumb, up to the knuckles. I am too small, too shallow to allow Him to fist me, to get the knuckles and the meat of His hand up inside me. He gets me to put lube on His cock and on my hands. I start to jack Him off. It is so arousing, so stimulating for me to be touching Him, to be exciting Him. As He thrusts into me with His hand I get more and more excited. Aroused by the thrusting but just as aroused by His cock, by toughing, by jacking it. He stops and warns me to focus on Him, on His pleasure and not my own. I am not to orgasm. He will tell me when. I get so excited by the touch, the smell, the feel of Him in my hands. It is erotic, exciting, arousing to touch Him, to pull and tug and stroke. The only thing I can see or feel is His cock, His excitement, His scent. The world again reduces itself to this area of focus, His cock and my hands. Over and over I raise and lower, tighten and release, pull and push, jacking at a consistent rhythm. That is all I see, all I can see, all I notice, all there is. Slowly I become aware that He is saying words, talking to me. He raises His voice, speaks again, sharply. He has been telling me for several minutes to move, to adopt the doggy position. He is going to fuck my ass. During this time I have been orgasming constantly and I am only dimly aware that that is what has been happening. I have soaked the bed, the covers, His hand, His arm with my secretions. The orgasms have not been discreet, not individual but rather a continuous rolling sensation that has sent further and further into the trance that I occupy at such times.
He enters me from behind. I am a mass of sensations, I feel it, I think it. Everything is centred round Him. Everything. He comes with a roar and I collapse on the bed but I am unaware, unaware of His orgasm, unaware that He has ceased moving. He moves away from me and I slide slowly down and lay there on the bed. Completely out of it. Not unconscious but certainly not conscious, not conscious of who, what or where I am. Just floating in a haze, in glow. Happy to been there part of that intense, exciting and erotic session. Giving and receiving but most of all giving.
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