Happy 24th Anniversary and Happy Valentine’s Day to my Husband ~ my Dominant. This is my love letter to you.
The first time I heard his voice was December 26, 1986. I was 21 and living in New York. He was 28 and living in Virginia on a one year assignment. I knew of him through the most unlikely source, my mother, and she gave me his number because she could not handle my anguish and her guilt. I called him in a desperate cry for help already having reached out to anyone and everyone who would lend an ear. I had just spent the last two months in absolute anguish because the man I married and thought I loved left me suddenly and without explanation. All I could think about was finding a way to get him back. He took all our money and I had to live in an unfurnished run-down apartment. I was working two jobs to afford living in New York because I knew if I left I would never see him again.
The arrangement was that I would call him on a specific day and at a specific time to make sure that he would be home and that he had privacy so he could speak freely. I woke up that morning with butterflies and had no idea why I was so nervous. My mother met him at church and he had a reputation as someone who could help. Would I finally get the answers I needed? Why did he leave me? What did I do wrong? What’s wrong with me?
His voice was deep and rich; the kind of voice that should sing a slow, sexy R&B love song, and as he spoke I found myself mesmerized and surprisingly seduced. He listened…really listened…as I poured my heart out telling him things I’d never told anyone. I could not believe my own level of honesty, but I was sure it was because I would never meet him. He told me I was worthy of love and he told me that I did nothing so wrong as to warrant such cruel intent. My ex-husband didn’t just say he was leaving and find a way to gracefully exit the marriage, no; we had sex all night long, with him telling me how much he loved me, and then in the morning stood naked over me and ordered me to get out.
A couple of months passed as I tried to reconcile with my ex-husband only to feel the sting of rejection again and again. I knew I was fighting a lost cause. During those months my phone calls continued with him and we discussed anything and everything. He was always there for me, no matter what time of day or night and he was the only one I could count on for support. Friends and family had grown tired of me. I finally reached the end and knew I needed to leave New York for good. On the day I told him we would finally meet I received notice that my apartment building was going condo and that I could get out of my lease, which at that point was the only thing keeping me in New York. Within a few days I made all my arrangements to leave, packed my car with anything I could fit, and headed off to Virginia…to him.
He had already planned a casual evening get-together at his house that first Saturday I moved to town and naturally I was invited. I figured he was curious about meeting me, but surely meeting me was due to his good manners and his pity for the lost girl who kept calling him. Was I nervous? No. Was I scared out of my wits? Absolutely. I almost didn’t make it out the door. Would he find me even remotely attractive considering that he had been modeling professionally? Would my body turn him on? He was a star athlete in high school and college and would have played professional football had it not been for an injury. He was currently coaching and I was told that he was in amazing shape. Would I show up and some gorgeous, leggy model get introduced to me as his fiancée?
I entered the cramped living room of his bungalow house and greeted his guests as I made my way toward the other side, while my eyes darted back and forth searching for him. Just as I turned around our eyes caught and there he stood in front of me. He was tall with smooth brown skin that reflected gold specks and he was wearing a tight t-shirt so I could see his strong muscled arms, his broad shoulders and even the chisel of his chest and abs. He had large almond eyes that were as dark brown as mine. His face was oval with high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and full kissable lips. He raised his right eye brow up with surprise and then a wide glowing smile filled his face and lit the room. I couldn’t move…I couldn’t breathe…I couldn’t think. My heart started to beat rapidly and my legs began to buckle. He made his way over and greeted me with a warm embrace. I could feel the solid muscles of his arms. He kissed me lightly on the cheek and his warm breath caressed my earlobe. Shivers went down my spine and I felt a deep fire ignite. I’m dreaming, I must be dreaming.
We spent a lot of time getting to know one another throughout the spring and into the early summer. The subject of my possible soon-to-be ex would come up and I still believed that we would get back together because he just needed time, but no attempts were ever made to get in touch with me. I was scared to be alone and I didn’t know if he had any real feelings for me or even thought about me romantically. He’s just being a good friend, I tried to convince myself.
He invited me to a few work events and we would go jogging and to the gym to workout. Sometimes he would pick me up early and take me out to breakfast. He would always open every door, lead me through a room with his hand on the small of my back, and take the time to make sure I had everything I needed, but not once did he hold my hand or attempt to kiss me. He was a complete gentleman at all times. We would talk about his future plans and I tried to figure out what I was going to do with my life. He helped me get a job teaching children’s theater since it was the only thing I was trained to do. I had attended a prestigious theater school in New York for two years, but trying to make it as an actress now seemed nothing short of impossible. He told me he could introduce me to an agent back home in Chicago if I wanted to make the attempt. I thought he wanted to send me away and it made me very sad.
We never planned a formal date, but on June 19th, one week exactly before his 29th birthday, I invited him over for dinner and a movie. I was living with my mother temporarily and she had gone away for the weekend so I had the house to myself. I made pasta primavera for dinner and decided on a simple strawberry shortcake for dessert. I paired our meal with a nice bottle of pinot grigio. It was already hot and humid in Virginia. Unfortunately, the air conditioning broke down that week so we had to eat outside on the screened-in wrap-around porch, which was reasonably comfortable since that part of the house had been kept cool during the day with the shade of mature chestnut and dogwood trees. As I prepared for the evening I told myself this was just two friends getting together, but I knew if I had the opportunity to seduce him, I would. I wore a pair of almost-too-short black shorts and a tight white tank top that showed the right amount of cleavage. My skin had gotten sun-kissed from a day at Virginia Beach the weekend before and I felt good exposing a little skin. I paired my outfit with a pair of red lace-up wedge healed sandals and wore my long, dark brown hair in loose waves so it would cascade across my shoulders and down my back.
He didn’t come over until nearly 7’oclock, and although it was still warm and a little humid a breeze lightly blew through the screens. We lingered over dinner and dessert talking about nothing and everything. I laughed at his silly jokes not because they were particularly good, but more so because he thought they were funny. A couple of times we both reached for the bottle of wine and our fingers brushed against each other sending my heart racing. He told me dinner was wonderful, and as the sun set, he helped me clean up the kitchen. We moved to the living room to watch 9½ Weeks. Neither one of us had seen it and I wasn’t entirely sure of what it was about, but the selection was limited at the video store on that Friday so it seemed like a good choice. We sat fairly close to each other on the couch and as the movie progressed and revealed its’ plot we both started to squirm. We caught each other giving side-ward glances and the electricity between us was fueling a deep desire and need in me.
He abruptly got up and said we should go for a walk to get some air and I was devastated. I choked on the thought that he didn’t want me. All the chemistry that seemed to exist between us was just in my head; the imaginations of a lost and lonely girl. It was already after midnight and we walked the quiet tree-lined street in relative silence. There wasn’t any noise with the exception of our breathing, but I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. The last quarter moon gave just enough light to make the walk romantic by any standard. I remembered reading that the last quarter moon symbolized letting go and releasing.
I knew if I did not make a move he probably wouldn’t and I had to know right then and there if there would ever be anything between us. I stopped and turned to face him. I took his hands and placed them on my breasts and asked him when he was going to kiss me. He moved his hands down and placed them around my waist and then breathed what seemed like an anguished sigh. He looked at me squarely and asked point-blank if I was truly over my ex-husband because he said he would not start anything with me if I was still in love with him. I said clearly and firmly that I wanted no other but him. With that one statement he pulled me tight against him and kissed me hard and deep; our tongues assaulting each other’s mouths. I clung to him and he continued to hold me like he would never let me go.
He swept me up in his arms and walked swiftly into the house and set me down on the porch by the daybed. We stood there frozen for a moment looking deeply into each other’s eyes. I then dropped to my knees in front of him and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans so I could release his cock. He was already hard and I started to slowly lick and kiss him as he fisted his fingers through my hair and he let out a deep guttural moan. I took him in my mouth and began to suck like I couldn’t get enough, and I couldn’t. I wanted him to know that I was his.
He pulled me up to my feet and told me to take off my clothes and then he took off his. He smiled as his eyes looked up and down my body and he turned me all the way around to look at me from every angle. I was so wet and my pussy ached to have him inside. He then lifted me up in his arms and lowered me slowly down onto his cock as I wrapped my legs tightly around him. He stretched and filled me completely and it was the most satisfying feeling I’ve ever felt. Our mouths found each other again, but this time he kissed me sweetly and gently; lightly biting my lower lip as his hands supported me under my ass and I moved my hips up and down delighting in my carnal ride. A breeze blew through the windows and caressed our hot, sweaty bodies.
He stepped forward to the daybed, lifted me off him, and laid me out so he could run his hands all over me. He took his time caressing and massaging, pinching and biting, and licking, kissing and sucking everywhere. He was delighting in me and watching my reactions to every sensation he created. He searched out all those special places that had me begging for more. Everywhere he touched was like being touched for the first time and my skin was burning. He began to gently circle his thumb over and over my clit as he slid two fingers inside and massaged just the right spot. I had a body shattering orgasm almost immediately and I screamed in ecstatic release. He kept up his assault on my dripping wet cunt wringing out every ounce of pleasure from me.
He handed me a condom packet and I tore it open and rolled it down over him while I locked my eyes on to his so I could see his reaction to feeling my fingers slide down his shaft. He then flipped me over and pulled my hips in the air so my ass was at just the right angle. Without hesitation he thrust deeply inside me making me gasp for air. He pushed harder and deeper; ramming inside me over and over like his life depended on it. And then he let out a primal growl as he came hard and long. Our bodies collapsed on the daybed in a feeling of completeness. We lay there panting and sweating and knowing that we could never go back to the way things had been. We knew that we had to have each other and I knew there was no other man for me. He was the only man who would ever have me. I was his. We spent the rest of night into the early morning making love slowly and taking our time to enjoy every touch and every kiss. We finally drifted off to sleep exhausted and spent from our night of passion.
The porch was bright and bathed in late morning sun as we slowly opened our eyes. He rolled onto his side and pulled me into his arms. He brushed my hair from my face, looked deeply into my eyes and whispered, “I’ve got you now; you’re all mine. I love you, my little kippy. Marry me.”