Sunday, 2 November 2014

Leaving the Real World Behind



I close the outer door behind me and check my watch. Two minutes to go - perfect. Not too early, and never, ever late. I take the opportunity for some deep breaths, watching the second hand sweep, and then press the button. With a jarring buzz, the inner door unlocks and I make my way upstairs, my heart rate increasing with each step. As ever, the front door opens as I reach it and I am welcomed. In seconds, I begin the journey into the mindspace that I reserve entirely for her.

We chat about innocuous subjects, and then she brings the discussion around to now. We always have this conversation, yet for a long time it has felt superfluous, unnecessary. She has my complete trust, and my body and mind are blank canvasses for her artistry. She knows this, I know that she knows this, and still we talk.

We move to the next element of the choreography, separately preparing for the physicality, knowing that it is but one manifestation of the connection between us. Kneeling naked, awaiting her entrance, I can feel and hear my heartbeat. She enters, and I breathe deeply, taking the next step into my zone. There is nothing and no one else in the world. Nothing else matters.

The physical journey begins, slowly and gradually. She probes and I respond. She effortlessly reads my reactions: my breathing, my expressions, my body language. I have learned to not artificially magnify any of my responses – it is utterly unnecessary, a falsehood with no place here. Our eye contact alone exchanges encyclopaedic levels of information between us.

The intensity grows as we explore further, absorbing each other’s’ energy. Her precision and perfection are absolute, as she utilises her palette of physical and emotional instruments with me. She conducts an orchestra with my senses, playing a symphony with my entire body, touching deep into my mind and reaching into my soul. I give her my all. I can, and will, do nothing less. 


Afterwards, over the minutes, hours and sometimes days, the physical effects slowly fade. The memory, however, remains indelible.

Lady Annisa

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