It’s the intimacy between us-once again-that is so welcome.

I’d been distant-busy running our life, and forcing time to write; when I’m in that zone I inhabit a different planet.

He asked some questions.  I was prickly.

I didn’t want to show Him this blog,either. I was embarrassed.

“Who am I?” He demanded.

He had a point.  I emailed a link.

Later, at night, we lay curled towards each other.  I would have liked sex.  He’d spanked me earlier-just because he can-and no one was home-and then taken me.  It had been good, very good, but I hadn’t had an orgasm.

So I would have enjoyed  play- but I knew it wasn’t

going to happen.  He was exhausted.

Instead I tucked my hand between the mattress and his cheek. I  told him how soft I feel, and the warm, glow floating around my heart and into my throat.

He told me, yes, he felt that too. Along with an incredible sense of power, strength, responsibility.

“We have to go very slow.” He murmured this against the shell of my ear, and then brushed my eyelid with his lips.

“There is such power in me when I see you like that (He refers to the earlier session-my pants around my knees).

His large palm cups my face. “And then I see the gentle look in your eyes throughout the rest of the day.  I could crush you. I have to go slow, and be very careful.  There is such power in this thing we do.”

He kissed a cheekbone.

“I welcome your power.”  I whisper.