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I held onto Anderson’s hips as I blinked hard, making sure I wouldn’t pass out from overwhelming pleasure. Once I came back to myself, and could see something besides fireworks, I turned my full attention back to my boy.
He was so beautiful with my marks all over his skin, and my cum deep inside him; I’d claimed him in every way. He was mine.
Anderson’s body was limp, and the straps of the cross were supporting his weight. I didn’t want him to lose circulation in his hands, so I had to move him while he was still conscious (ish). If he slipped totally under, I couldn’t carry him.
I unbuckled his ankles first, and then used my left hand to support his back while I unclasped each of his wrists. I draped his thick arm across my shoulders, and guided his wobbly legs over to the futon.
I tried to lay him gently on the cushion, but he sort of flopped ungracefully onto it. He was smiling though, so I didn’t worry about it. I climbed onto the mat beside him and took him in my arms. It was time for some serious aftercare and snuggles.
Anderson’s body was pink and warm; my own personal heater as I held him close to me, softly stroking his skin and supporting him as he came down from his heights of passion. I would rub some numbing cream on him to soothe his flesh once he was alert, but for now, I just needed to be close to him.
He looked so peaceful as he lay next to me. He wasn’t asleep, as his eyes were open and unfixed, but he wasn’t fully awake either. He’d told me before that our playtime put him in a different plane; a place devoid of thought or worry, only bliss. I was grateful to be able to give that to him.
He gave me peace as well. He satisfied my deep seated need to both dominate and care; something I only felt towards him. In most areas of my life, I was more than happy to take the backseat. But I loved stepping up and taking control of Anderson’s body, and I was thankful that he trusted me in that way - in every way.
Anderson rolled his head over to face me and gave me a breathtaking smile. His eyes were glassy but focused, and I knew that he’d come back to himself. “There you are,” I whispered, and cupped his furry cheek. “How do you feel?”
“Amazing,” he replied dreamily.
“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” Even though all signs pointed to bliss, it was our first time experimenting with this, and his care and comfort were paramount.
“You were perfect.”
“You were perfect,” I countered before kissing his lips. “You are perfect.”
“And that was the perfect anniversary gift,” he beamed.
Anderson and I had been married five years, and had been exploring the BDSM lifestyle for the past year or so. It brought us even closer together, allowing us to achieve balance in all aspects of our life together.
Outside of the bedroom, Anderson was in charge. He was the breadwinner, decision maker, and head of our house. But at the end of the day, he needed to let loose and hand the reins over to me; to let me make his body sing and his worries flutter away. I was his peace, and he was my anchor.
He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer in a subtle change of power. Playtime was over, and he was taking control once more. I smiled and snuggled up to him, happy to hand it over. I was ready to be pampered.
“Do you have a gift for me too?” I asked, batting my eyelashes sweetly and making him chuckle.
“My ass wasn’t enough?”
I snorted a laugh and had to keep myself from swatting his shoulder; I didn’t want to hurt his tender skin. “Baby, your ass is always enough.” I loved how we could flip the switch from intense flogging to light hearted teasing in an instant.
“I do have a surprise for you, though; we’ve got a late reservation at Mitchell’s.”
It was my favorite restaurant. I thanked him with a kiss and replied cheekily, “Good, because giving you that whipping really worked up an appetite.”
He smirked and teased, “I can’t wait to see what you have in store for my birthday next month. Ooh - maybe we could try fisting.”
Oh, hell yes. My poor, spent cock gave a valiant twitch at the idea. Of course, I couldn’t miss the opportunity for sass, so I propped my fist on my hip and asked, “You’re not trying to tell Master what to do, are you?”
A deep laugh rumbled in his chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
And he wouldn’t. He respected my authority in the bedroom (or playroom), just as I respected his in all other areas. Our relationship was a perfect balance of laughter, appreciation, loyalty, and most importantly, love.
Unable to hold the last one back, I looked in his pretty, dark eyes and told my husband, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
I took his lips in a deep kiss, grateful for every aspect of our relationship. I couldn’t wait to see what pleasures our future held.
