SILVER POLISH

There is a moment in time where it all bubbles up. The desire and the need you considered insignificant suddenly becomes a blinding light. Now, it is too harsh and bright to ignore.

All it took was a text. It is funny, how our most intense memories never dim. They just lie in wait for us to use the Dewey Decimal system to find them again. What an efficient catalog are brains are.

And all it took was one text. He was there, in the now and also 10 years ago.

The Now But Ten Years Ago…

This man was probably my most favorite Top. Simply known as “Silver,” his ability to work with rope is pure art. There are others that are skilled, even great, but he understood power exchange in a different way. I felt so free being in bondage and suspended. The accouterments of kink still carry with them a mental aspect. Silver does that so well.

We met at kinky conference in D.C. I was ready to fly under his tutelage – literally and figuratively. The preparation builds anticipation. The familiar tingle between my legs. I felt the silky rope between my thighs, rubbing up against my clit. His fingers playfully lingered there as he adjusted the ropes, got close and whispered in my ear. Then, he stepped back to admire his work. I hung there, in the air, feeling like a butterfly. Being suspended makes you a spectacle as people looked on, admiring the art of a submissive in bondage, mid-air.

Then There Was the Time…

Silver told me he was coming into the city. He wanted me ready for him. An off-Broadway show and dinner was the agenda. It sounded innocent, a typical night in the city, but I knew it wasn’t.

I was hungry, wet and ready for him. After the show, he put me in a chest harness; this is what a Master of rope does. Like at the conference, Silver was keen to show off his work. On our way to the restaurant, I walked behind him. Only in NYC, would the waiter not find it weird to see some girl tied up, incapable of using her hands. If I needed to eat, I had to ask permission. If I took a sip, well, at least I had a straw.

Sitting across from one another, we read each others minds. I knew what was going to be next. The walk back to his place. What was he going to do? Would he tease me relentlessly? How long would it be before my mouth was on his cock? The answer came quickly…

Beautiful Dick, Dark Corners.

I sucked his dick like it was the most beautiful thing I had ever tasted. The feel of it against my skin, warm, soft and hard all at the same time. It didn’t matter that I was on my knees in a darkened lobby of a downtown loft. My knees didn’t need a pillow, even as they pushed into the concrete. This is how entranced and desirous I was to show him pleasure. He deserved this pleasure I was giving him.

A submissive knows when to give and a Dominant knows he never has to ask.