Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Making it Better
This post finishes what I started two weeks ago now. I have to apologize for my lateness in finishing this story and in posting in general. I got caught up in my new work schedule, some family obligations, and a sudden attack from my sinuses (poorly timed along with a fresh sun burn to my nose), as well as moving in my new roommate and getting used to living with someone again. So amid the drugs and drama I've had to take a step back and rest. Honestly, it feels like it has been five or six weeks for me. Thanks for waiting it out with me.
I've been asked by readers why I don't just take on my boy full time and have him serve me 24/7. In the past I haven't had the ability to point to a specific incident and say, "This is an example of why I'm not ready to do that sort of thing." But if ever there was an example worth pointing to, this is the one. I had messed things up, misread the signals my boy was sending me, and let a lack of communication cause a rift between us.
Obviously it takes two people to flub up communications, but as the Dom I should have been able to notice that something was wrong. The fact that it took me until late the next morning to even realize something was wrong proves that I'm not ready to take on that sort of responsibility daily. In any sort of relationship you have to be aware of the other person, and in a Dom/sub relationship, you have to be able to care for the sub both bodily and emotionally, much like the sub cares for and serves the Dom. A lot of people don't think about how much work goes into a relationship like that when they fantasize about it. It isn't easy, and I am still young, and I am not ready at all to take care of another person.
So what do you do to make things better when your boy is feeling unloved? We talked to each other, of course. I reassured him that I would do better to recognize his feelings, and he promised me not to withhold his feelings from me again. I made it clear that there was no way for me to always know what he was feeling and that I wanted to do everything possible to avoid hurting him. I won't go into all the details of what was said between us, as it would likely be boring to read, and I'm not in any particular hurry to remember the sadness I felt in that moment. I will say, however, that we opened up to each other more than we ever had previously, exposing more than I think we knew there was. As much as it hurt to open up like that, I know it brought the two of us closer together, not just as Sir and boy, but as friends, as two people who care very deeply for each other.
When we had made up and my boy was smiling again, I held him close to my body, kissing him gently on his lips, his face, his eyes. I held him gently but firmly down to the bed as I began to unbuckle my belt and open my pants. While lying on top of him I started to bite and suck tenderly at any part of his skin I could get to with my mouth. I licked his neck, sniffed at the mixed smells of his scent and mine mingling there. I held his arms above his head, barely letting him touch me except for where I wanted him to touch me.
"I want to fuck you." My voice was a hoarse almost-whisper, but it was full of a real need. In that moment I needed to fuck him.
"I need some time to clean out," he said.
"I don't care. I'll deal. I want to fuck you. Right now." He knew I meant it.
In no time I was lubed up and pushing my way inside of him as he lay face down on the bed. I didn't wait very long for him to open up, but he was fairly open anyway. If he felt any pain at all, he also felt enough pleasure that the only sounds coming out of his mouth were sounds of joy. After testing the waters with a few slow strokes I let my pent up aggression come out. I started to pound him, pounding my frustrations at myself into him. I pumped my anger at failing in my half of our relationship as well as my anger at him for his part in our miscommunication. I fucked until I was lost in the feeling of his ass muscles and the sweat dripping down my back, until I was just a part of the fuck and all the emotions that had come from our talk and our blunder were gone. I was in the moment. I was my building orgasm, that came crashing onto both of us.
I was exhausted in multiple ways when I finished, but I noticed that my boy's hole was bleeding a bit. I felt a tinge of guilt at letting myself go so hard with little prep. But we both had needed that aggressive fuck. It didn't just get rid of the bad emotions, it reasserted my dominance in the relationship. And it cemented the openess we'd shared right before the fuck. Ever the caring Sir, I quickly wiped up the blood and cleaned my boy so that I could be sure I hadn't hurt him too badly. Once I was sure of that, however, I flopped on the bed. I was beat.
Lying together after, his head on my sweaty, furry chest, I felt closer to him that I had ever felt before. "I can hear your heart singing to me," he said.
I smiled. "What is it saying?"
"Myboy. Myboy. Myboy." He thumped out the rhythm on my chest.
I couldn't think of anything to reply with. It was one of the most beautiful things anyone has ever said to me after sex. One of the most joyful and completely innocent things. I loved hearing him say it. And I sighed contentedly and let him lay there, hearing my heart talk to him for a while. I was happy to shut my mouth and let the important things be said by other parts of my body.