This beautiful man completes me. It’s been a very rough and long month for both of us. While he has been struggling with his primary trying to settle things, I have felt neglected and lonely. No communication is the worst thing for me. Realizing we can’t touch has been a learned skill, but like most things you don’t like to accept, it is what I must do. Totally disconnected from Daddy has me filled with doubt and insecurities. It’s been a month, maybe more since we have had any time. Our usual alone time has been corrupted. Is it worse to have the expected taken away then have nothing to look forward to? I am still working on that one.
Last night I was expecting a half hour, maybe 45 minutes of his time. We caught up with each other in a haphazard disorganized manner. We were polite to each other. It felt more like old friends catching up having bumped into each other at the grocery. He looked tired. Exhausted. He wore an orange bandana to hold back his hair, a white T-shirt, shorts, and the socks I love. (Yes, I know, it’s socks, but this man makes everything sexy). We talked about his struggles with the primary and how things have been. I let him know what I have done to try and help. She had told him nothing of my actions. He thanks me, but I see in his face he doesn’t hold hope that it will help.
I am about to leave. Standing at the door, leaning up against the wall. I find the courage to vent to him about how I have been feeling. I hold back because I know my place, but also because I see the struggle in his. It breaks my heart to see him feeling this way. In the middle of my rant, he steps towards me, grabs my ponytail and pulls me upstairs to the bedroom. It was dark, I was tripping and stumbling trying to manage the heels and the stairs. Then it starts. He instructs. I respond. After I undress, I go to my knees. We spend the next hour in multiple forms of release. I land in his arms and a month of sadness, worry, insecurities, fear, and the unknown leave my body. I break into tears. “I’m sorry Baby, was that too much for you?” He asks.
“No Daddy, it was perfect. This is the first time I have felt complete in a month.”
This man has no concept of his ability to manipulate me. My body, my mind, my soul, all become his to mold as he wishes. Yes, he makes me sad and makes me doubt myself when he ebbs… but when he flows, toward me, he makes me feel like the only woman in the world. He makes me feel like the only woman in his world.
I spent the night but I didn’t sleep. I felt his body relax as he held me. His beard on my face, his breathing, his quiet little snore, his heartbeat. If I slept I was afraid I would miss something. If I slept I wouldn’t be able to remember every time he moved, every time he pulled me closer to him, every time he cupped my breast in his hand, every time he whispered, “I love holding you.” It was hot, we were sweaty, even with the air conditioner blowing cold air over us our body heat was combined to make our skin slippery. I didn’t care. I would drown in our sweat before pulling away from him and miss an opportunity to be in his arms for even a second.
I am his. I will always be his. This beautiful man completes me.