His /seXteen

photo © Ian Gothier

D'Ange also wrote of this night : "Sweet /seXteen"

***
A lover's dinner, a lover's kiss, bliss... I throw my arms around your neck as we kiss some more, moving up & up thru the sky, until we're at my door.
I pick up the mail, open the locks.
And then, nothing is the same, no putting the mail down or taking off my coat : you press me against the wall in the darkness, embracing me, kissing me, tightly.
My hand lets go of the letters, my hat, my purse, falling to the floor as I succumb to your charm. No, to your passion, as you remove my coat, throwing it down, positioning me against the door, panties and stockings pulled roughly down, back arched, ass offered.
You touch me, I can feel your breath on my neck as you bite me, claiming me as your prey.
I wait as I hear you take your instrument in hand. And then the sound of the martinet, its wind, its sting over my ass & my thighs, strong, unrelenting.
Somehow it feels a bit like punishment, I accept it : was it that I had spoken to you of someone else, of C. ??
Or, is this your emotion, the first time you're whipping me, and I'm loving it.
I feel your presence around me, as you stop to remove your coat. Listening, breathing, waiting.
And you caress me, before continuing, so sexy... and when you're done, holding me, kissing me...

"Make some tea", you say, and I take this as your first order.
I feel humble as I prepare it. I can see you sitting at the table in the dark, light streaming in from the windows. Something about the way you were sitting, erect, manly, one arm on the table, legs spread wide comfortably... looking at me...

I bring the tray to the table, and serve small red cups of tea.
And I kneel at your feet, one hand on your thigh, subdued. An expression of my emotion, because then I knew : you were my Master.