In approximately fourteen hours I’ll be picking V up at the airport. It’s been a few months since we spent any time together, and it would be difficult to overstate how excited I am to see her. When separated for long periods, I don’t wear her collar, and she’s promised to lock it around my neck as soon as I’m within reach.
Knowing this makes me happy.
As usual, I’m nervous. Anticipation of seeing her always makes me nervous, but it’s not a bad feeling. It’s an excited and achy feeling that starts in the pit of my stomach accompanied by warmth and tingling in the head of my cock.
I’ll be a hard, wet mess by the time I pick her up and won’t feel ‘settled’ until I’m naked and collared under her thumb. Not that feeling settled will reduce the neediness or the anxious feelings. In fact, once we’re alone, these emotions become heightened to an almost ridiculous degree until I’m feverish with want.
She’s to blame for this.
I’m joking of course – mostly. But V certainly doesn’t discourage or try to stop this cycle. From the beginning, she encouraged this kind of dynamic and wants a more intense, albeit sustainable, version of it once we’re living together. She loves when my craving and need are at a fever pitch. Even when I can sense just how stupid and clingy I’m going to get and apologize in advance, she just stokes the fire.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything. That’s what I want from you. I want my needy, clingy, whiny boy.”
That’s exactly what she’ll get.
Part of the intensity stems from the fact we’ve been apart for so long. When we’ve only just reconnected, I’ll get all kinds of anxious when she leaves the room. This anxious feeling has no rational anchor. I don’t have any ‘real fears’ she’ll actually leave or disappear. Instead, the clingyness is me giving into that part of myself that adores feeling safe, claimed, and thoroughly owned when I’m curled up on her lap. The part that’s eager to do as he’s told and loves being cherished for being an obedient, masochistic slut.
That she’s likely to hurt, fuck, and use me certainly plays a part. That she expects the depraved begging and the desperate energy that comes with it most definitely feeds my inclinations. But most of what I’m describing is par for the course in BDSM.
However, V is NOT just any Domme.
I’ve had my fair share of Dominants. None of them have been as hungry to go to the darkest and most dangerous emotional places as V. None of them have had the patience or confidence to plumb those depths. And, frankly, I didn’t trust most of them to be my guide…
Okay, so I went off on a tangent there. Did I mention the Dominant I love and adore is flying in tomorrow?
Give this boy a break.