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01 Temmuz 2022, 15:48
For some it's the desert, for others it's the ocean. Myself, I find solace at the end of my weekly hikes. My destination is always the same; a waterfall. I'm blessed to live in the Pacific Northwest where there are no shortages of hikes or waterfalls. Alone with my dog, I can take in the sight, sound, smell, and even the taste of the air as water crashes off the rocks around me. It's here I can clear my head and breathe deep. Most days I allow myself to linger just a short time before turning around for the hike home. Today I find myself getting lost in thought and settle up against an old tree; I'm cushioned by the soft ground cover. It is truly my "happy place," which is why the year before I had a black ink waterfall tattooed on the side of my right leg from, knee to ankle. *** His words echo in my head, "It's time to move on." I know Robert's words are true. It is time. For the past year, Robert has been my friend, and my Dom. He's been my guide and mentor as I've finally allowed myself to explore my most deep and hidden submissive desires. He also lives across the country and we've never met in person. We found each other online, at a time when both of us were recently divorced but not yet ready to jump into dating. We were both in our early forties, active, with a love of the outdoors. Jobs and children kept us both in our respective cities. He was an experienced Dom, who had the patience and strength to put up with a novice such as myself. Emails and phone calls have been the limit of our relationship, as we set up from the beginning. almanbahis şikayet (http://almanaffiliates.com/) We both agreed that if either of us became seriously involved in a new relationship close to home, then we would need to end our sessions. It was he who found new love first, and I'm happy for him. I knew I had clung to our phone sessions as a reason to avoid dating, and he knew it too. We had discovered over the year that not only was I submissive, but that moderate erotic pain and verbal humiliation amplified my orgasms greatly. Names such as 'cunt' and 'freak' simultaneously embarrassed me and made my nipples tight and cunt leak. However, when he felt the need to really get into my head, to eliminate any question I might have of his dominance over me, he would call my cunt, ass, and mouth his 'holes'. He once elaborated that a hole is nothing but a void. Something that is not complete until it's filled. That imagery hit me to the core and allowed me to let go like nothing else could. We also learned that nothing pushed me harder than orgasm denial, and that making him cum was my favorite reward of all. It had surprised me how satisfied and proud I would feel after sessions that I made him come multiple times while my own release was denied. My thoughts take me back to our last session one week ago. On that particular night, we started the evening as we usually did. I was to wait for his call sitting naked on the side of my bed, legs together, feet flat on the floor, back straight, chin up. My toys were arranged and waiting on the bedside table. Per almanbahis canlı casino (http://almanaffiliates.com/) Robert's order, a mirror was set up directly across from my bed. I was to look at myself until his call. A year ago, this was a struggle. Through his insistence, I've come to appreciate my reflection. The small lines at the corners of my brown eyes, the grey beginning at the temples of my dark brown hair, the slight sag of my once firm B-cup breasts, and the small roll at my belly. I once felt betrayed by all of these traits; now I recognize myself as a strong, attractive and sexy woman. At five feet five, I am neither petite nor tall. Some men look right through me, while others find me desirable. The phone rang and I answered. "Hello pet," his warm voice called through the phone. How it is those words could still make my core warm and my cunt wet after so much time made me smile. "Hello Sir," I replied, knowing no other words were allowed from this point on unless requested by him. Sometimes he would launch immediately in to a session, while at other times he was more playful or inquisitive and we'd chat about our days, our work, and our struggles adjusting to life as singles. At those times his voice would be soft and his laugh open and infectious. I'd find myself leaning back on my bed relaxing in to the phone call as if talking to an old friend. More often than not, I would be caught off guard when I'd hear the almost imperceptible change in the tone of his voice, along with the return of his command over me. On this night there were almanbahis casino (http://almanaffiliates.com/) no questions. No idle conversation. We both knew this was to be our last session, and perhaps our last conversation altogether. It was bittersweet for us both, but we knew our friendship was too entwined with our desire for each other to reasonably continue without him feeling unfaithful to his new girlfriend. "Is my cunt wet for me?" he asked softly. "Yes Sir." In fact, I'd been wet and anxious since coming home from work. The bed sheet was undoubtedly soaked where I sat. "Good girl... but that's enough words for now." He went on, "Medium vibrator in your mouth, now." His deep voice sent a chill down my spine. Robert knew what I needed. As a news reporter for the local public radio station, my voice is my power. I have a smooth easy cadence, which can turn from professional to lighthearted to sexy at my whim. It is the voice of a grown, intelligent woman. The first time he took my voice from me, I don't think either of us realized how profound the effect would be. I felt more raw, naked and vulnerable than I ever had. It became for us the most effective means of bondage he could offer over the telephone. "Clothespins... get two. One on each nipple, quick." I released the springs of the clips on to my tender nipples, feeling the tight pinch squeeze the sensitive flesh waking them up and causing my cunt to squeeze involuntarily. At first the pain was so acute that I caught my breath, but then it transformed to a warm flush over my breasts and torso and I began to breathe in small pants. "Two fingers in your cunt. Slowly work them in and out. Stop at times to rub your clit a little then back to your cunt." I almost slipped off the edge of the bed when I slid my legs open and scooted forward to get easier access to my cunt.