Sex, Alchemy and Craigslist
Have I got a story to tell! You have time? Grab a chair!
I am a healer. Sometimes, I get called on an assignment which involves me to heal someone on a cellular level. I met him today. I was on assignment. I told no one. I never expect to be in danger. I always trust my instincts. I trust the universe and what it wants me to do.
I have been looking for him. You know, the guy who will set me on fire. I met him yesterday. We met on Plenty of Fish, of all places. Where we met, and how we met is irrelevant. It happened. We were chatting on Kik. The conversation went well. Towards the end of the conversation, I found myself wanting to baby him. My mommy Domme instinct went off. I texted the following day, and told him, I wanted to baby him. I wanted to kiss and snuggle with him. I apologized if it was too forward. He responded with, "I crave it."
I asked him if he could host because I wanted to come over. I wasn't planning on coming over until after 4. He sent me a text, " I guess you're not coming over." He was feeling insecure. I apologized for not communicating. I picked up war wonton soup, kung pao chicken and some veggie egg rolls from my favourite Chinese place. On my way there, he texted that he was nervous. He asked what he should wear. Wear sweats or pajamas--be comfortable. He was freshly showered, hair messy and sitting in the corner of his couch. The conversation flowed, and he revealed that not only was this out of comfort zone, but that he liked to frighten the ladies. He was a dominant man who likes to get his way. He was a courteous man trying hard to fight his instinct of taking control. He was in physical pain when I massaged his hands. He didn't like being touched, he didn't like feeling that uncomfortable, yet, he allowed me to do my thing. I acknowledged his discomfort and thanked him for allowing me the privilege of doing this for him.
He noted that I was not the first to say he needed to be nurtured. I asked how I ended up being the lucky one. I asked. No, I heard the call, and followed my instinct. In the normal world, this could lead to someone's death. In my world, it leads to unexpected surprises.
Before I went over, I prepared for my session. I knew I was going to massage him, I knew I was going to feed him, I knew I was going to enjoy him orally. And then, the voice asked, " What about receiving?" I was not prepared for that, but they were telling me to prepare for that, too. At one point he sucked my breasts. They calmed the beast. He laid in my arms, nipple in mouth and was at complete peace. We stayed in the bubble for about twenty minutes. I kept asking myself, what the hell do I do? The response: be his safe space.
As the evening drew to an end, I told him there was one more thing I wanted, but I wanted to experience it on his bed. He got up and walked to his bed, I trailed behind. He was not the typical man. He can't come by felattio. I didn't care, this was my buffet. He laid back and enjoyed. He turned the tables on me, and he ended up inside. While I enjoyed it, I was definitely not prepared to enjoy being on the receiving end.
Its been on my mind all day. I've been trying to figure it out. I was in the car when Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones explained it all. "If I don't get me some shelter, I gonna fade away." I needed him... maybe as much as he needed me. This was about me...all my broken pieces needed to vent, needed a willing soul to satisfy something so deep, it could only be divinely given. There are many ways to reach satisfaction. I can make you dinner, and that would feed your hunger. I could buy you flowers, and that would feed your sadness. I could buy you diamonds, and that may feed your ego. But, feeding the soul.... how the fuck do you do that? That poor man didn't stand a chance. As much as he repressed himself to experience my "love," this was all about me. I had the chance to be different, to slip into a different perspective, but I didn't. Neither one of us orgasmed last night. That was my fault. I knew what turned him on. I knew if I went deep, deep like a cheap ho, it would have made his night. I couldn't get over being a ho. I'm disappointed in myself for that.
Will I ever see him again? No clue. He was gentlemanly, he set the mood, he made it possible for me to be comfortable. I know one thing, he's been processing the evening just like I've been. I saw my best gf afterwards. He asked if he would be the topic of conversation. I said no. Well... that was a lie, because Gigi and her intuition knew she was a cover for my liason. She was so funny. She straigh up asked, " Ok, who's the dude? Tell me all about it. Are you cheating?" What could I say ? I got dicked down by a man who has a great ass and needed some nurturing. He's a great kisser, and his cock could fucked me 7 ways from Sunday. The funny thing, we're both Mexican and we both date out of our race.
He did say he'd make dinner next time. We'll see.