SAXMANIAC MUSINGS

It's been a while since I've been to this bar. The crowd seems to have gotten younger in my absence but while I have a few moments to myself I still enjoy people watching.
This place has nothing if not interesting people.

Like the gentleman who's been eyeing me for the past 2 or 3 minutes. He looks to be in his 50s and with a black suit, grey shirt, and black tie, he seems a little overdressed for 

this crowd. Although the suit is nice enough, the addition of a thick gold chain, WAY too obvious gold pinky ring, and gold stud earrings gives him more of a "pimp" vibe. Or that uncle 

who always shows up at the family reunion wearing shorts with his brand-new Stacy Adams. As I order my usual Fuzzy Navel from the bartender, I chuckle to myself thinking of the poor, unfortunate female he may decide to hit on.

It's me. I'm the poor, unfortunate female. 

I take a swig of my drink and hope, futilely, that he will walk past me, or at least not take the empty bar stool beside me. 

"Hello, young lady," he says while getting uncomfortably close. "Do you come here often?"

Really? I think to myself. That's your opening line?

"Not too often," I reply, hoping that if I keep things short and sweet he'll go away. 

"My name is David," he says, as if I asked. "I was admiring your necklace, Is it an heirloom?"

Sure. I say to myself. I always wear family heirlooms to a local bar. 

But before I can get my thoughts to my lips he reaches his hand and gently lifts my necklace as if to get a closer look. It's a sliver necklace with two hoops on the end that I got for $8

at Walmart 30 minutes before coming to the bar. There's not much to look at.

I'm taken aback by his boldness and reach out my hand to return my necklace to its rightful place on my chest.

"I'm new in town and I love to come to places like this to people watch. I'm pretty good at figuring people out after only a few minutes," he says confidently.  

“OK,” I reply, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

See that lady over there,” he says while pointing to a gorgeous, buxom blonde across the bar from us.
“She never goes anywhere without her girlfriends. She wants to be the prettiest girl in the group and she doesn’t really know how to hold her liquor.”

I laugh slightly as I look her over. I’m familiar with the type. It wouldn’t take any special people skills to figure her out.

“And that guy over there,” he says, pointing to a young black guy with dreds who looks like he’s been nursing the same beer for about an hour. “He lives in the suburbs, probably plays lacrosse, but wants to hang out with his friends and get some street cred amongst his white peers.”

I laugh in spite of myself, which, unfortunately, makes him turn his attention back to me.

“And YOU,” he continues, as he looks me up and down like I’m a juicy steak, licking his lips. I’m pretty sure he’s going to tell me I look like a woman just waiting for a guy like him to buy her a drink. “You are a quiet, obedient Sub.”

I put my hand to my mouth to keep from spitting out my drink. I stare wildly at him trying to determine if he really said what I thought he said.

“Oh yeah,” he continues, still looking me up and down. “I had you pegged as soon as I saw you. I’ve been in the lifestyle for over 10 years now. I take care of my Subs. And I intend to add you to my collection.”

I am both incredulous and tickled that this Discount Dom is making a play at me with such a weak approach. He’s certainly no Dom, and definitely does not have a collection of Subs anywhere, unless they are on the Internet. This creep needs to be taught a lesson. He needs to be around a real Dominant.

And, as if on cue, Sir appears. LITERALLY appears out of nowhere. He takes his seat on the empty bar stool next to me, drink in hand, and gives the baby Dom a serious look.

“Baby,” I say sweetly. “This is David. David, this is Sir.” I slide my hand up Sir’s thigh and gently caress his crotch, then lean over for a long, wet kiss. When I pull away he gives me a subtle nod, permission to continue.

“You’re right, David. I AM a sub. But I am HIS sub,” I said nodding to Sir. After a slight pause I ask, “Got it?”

All of the baby Dom’s confidence was erased from his face as he stammered out what sounded like an apology. For a very brief moment it looked like he would try to mount some sort of challenge, but Sir’s steady glare made him think better of it.

Breaking the long, awkward silence, Sir finally says, menacingly, “You should leave now.”

David seemed almost relieved to have a reason to leave, and he stumbled out the door and down the sidewalk.

“What the fuck was that,” Sir asks after a moment.

“That was a predator,” I say. “And not a very good one.”

Sir gave a slight smile and ordered another drink. Then he turns to me and says, “It doesn’t matter. You know who you belong to.”

Absolutely, Sir, I think to myself. Absolutely.

A lot of people have awkward first times; where they lose their virginity and are embarrassed, even mortified by how it happened. 

But even after looking at it through grown up eyes many decades later, my first time was sweet, and amazing, although I will acknowledge that I was WAY too young and it was probably illegal. LOL

We were both pretty young and in high school. He apparently had this all planned out. He wanted me to stay after school and go to his brother's apartment which was a short walk away. I didn't want to at first but eventually I relented. It was a nice walk and we talked, he kept telling me how much he loved me. When we got there I was so nervous. He got me some juice and we sat on the couch and talked some more until I felt more comfortable. I knew what I was there for, but I didn't know how it was going to go down.

We started kissing on the couch and for the first time he put his hands under my shirt and felt my breasts. That damn near sent me to the moon, but then he bent down and started sucking on my nipples. I'm in complete ecstasy at this point. His lips are everywhere, his hands are everywhere, and before I know it, I'm completely naked!

He stands me up, and then picks me up and carries me gently up the stairs into the bedroom. Once there he gently lays me on the bed and begins to take off his clothes. I watch in fascination as he deftly puts on a condom. He lays on the bed next to me, kissing and rubbing and sucking. Then he gets on top of me, gently spreads my legs with his knees and enters me, and it's the most incredible feeling in the world. I don't think I did anything other than lay there and allow him to pleasure me as he pumped his dick in and out of me, but I know I didn't want it to end. I felt something build up inside me and when it washed over me, I wrapped my legs around him, held him tightly and said "OH MY GOD!!" He continued pumping away, looking into my eyes until I felt his warm cum inside me, his body tensed, then relaxed.

We lay there for a few minutes, then he got a washcloth and cleaned me off. I went downstairs, put on my clothes and he walked me home kissing me tenderly before seeing me to my door. 

He was about 3 years older than me and obviously more experienced. But the gentle way he treated me, the obvious planning makes me so grateful that my first time wasn't in the back seat of someone's car or under some dirty bleachers (although I did eventually have sex in those places, too LOL).

Sounds like a good forum topic, doesn't it? 

After all these years, he still gives me butterflies.
I hear his voice on the phone and I close me eyes and he is with me. 
I love when we're together and he brushes my braids off my shoulders. 
I love when he says "Comply."

I love when he tells me he loves me. 
The tone of his voice when he's tired.

The feel of his breath on my neck.

His hands on my body. 

His dark brown eyes and the way he looks at me when he's about to have his way with me. 
I can never surrender enough. I just want to make him happy. I want him to be proud of me. 

We were attracted to each other by sex initially. But this isn't just about sex.
He is "home."
And I will never stop feeling those butterflies.

I'd been waiting to see him all day. We needed this little break to relax and unwind. I've been overseeing an important project at work, he's been working 16 days straight. At home we pass each other in the hallway and hope to get a glimpse of each other before heading off to our jobs. But we planned this night and it was going to be amazing.

Well, that was the plan at least.

We flirted shamelessly with each other at the bar, acting more like a couple of horny twenty-somethings than the two grown ass 50 year olds we are. I was looking fierce with my shimmering blue sweater with the cut out sleeves baring my arms, and my tight black jeans hugging my ample behind. My braids were fresh and my make-up fierce. He was looking at me as if he was going to devour me right there at the bar, constantly putting his hands on my thigh, my back, pushing my braids away from my face. 

"Let's go," he says without needing further explanation. I down my 4th shot of tequila, grab my purse and let him lead me out of the bar. Our hotel is a short walk away and we enjoy the night air that is actually doing NOTHING to dissipate my high. We hold hands as we make our way through the parking lot and the front door of the hotel. In the elevator he whispers in my ear, "You look beautiful." I blush. Then he says, "I'm going to fuck you now." I blush some more. 

We make our way into our room, kissing and removing each other's clothing simultaneously. In our haste to get to the bed I get tangled up in my own feet and trip, falling quite ungracefully to the floor. 

"Are you OK?" he asks, a genuine feeling of concern in his voice along with a genuine need to suppress a chuckle.  

"I'm FINE," I say, a little to bruskly. Since I'm down here I might as well have a little fun so I pull his already unbuckled pants and underwear down to his ankles, reach for his cock, and put it in my mouth. 

I hear him moan and he grabs the back of my head, slowly shoving his dick down my throat. I look up at him but he's in a zone, his head thrown back....causing him to lose his balance. Before I can do anything he's leaning WAY beyond center, but lands harmlessly on his back on the bed behind him. 

I'm on all fours on the floor, desperately trying not to laugh. 

"You better not be laughing," he says while still laying where he fell on the bed.

"No, Sir," I respond, but I can't hold back the chuckle. 
We both laugh. Whatever we thought was going to happen tonight is NOT going to happen. We finish undressing and climb into the bed and get under the covers. I revel in the feeling of his body against mine, the smell of his cologne, the beating of his heart. 

"I'm so tired," he says apologetically.

"I know, Baby," I say tenderly. "It's been a long week for both of us and you still have to work in the morning. I appreciate you making the effort to squeeze me into your busy schedule. It's been so long..."

I hear him breathing, look up at his face and realize he's fallen asleep.  I snuggle up next to him, my head on his chest as it rises and falls. 

"Maybe next time, my love," I whisper as I settle down to sleep. 

Telling your Dom to "Bring it" after he's spent weeks working on his sex dungeon when you're naked and cuffed to a sex bed is probably not a good idea. (Or it IS a good idea depending on how you look at it.)

Sir presses his body against me, his erection resting firmly against my ass. He reaches around and cups my breasts, tweaking my nipples between his fingers as he kisses me gently on my neck. My whole body tingles. 

"You like that?" he asks knowing damn well I do. 

"Yes, Sir," I reply as I close my eyes and tilt my head back towards him.

He reaches one hand down to test my wetness, then lifts his moistened fingers to my mouth. I suck on them instinctively reveling in the taste of my own juices. 

He moves away and I am left hanging there with just the memory of his touch, when suddenly....

WHACK!!

"AGGHH!!" Both the sound of the whip on my back and my verbal protest swirl around my head. Oh FUCK that stings!

Do it again. 

He reads my mind and obliges, each strike in a different place across my back and the sound of this sweet torture seems to be amplified to the point where I swear everyone in the neighborhood can hear me. And I don't give a DAMN!!

And then...nothing. I hear myself panting, the sting of the whip still fresh but I have no idea where he's gone. Then I feel his hands gently stroke my back, as if inspecting his work. He stands close to me, breathing on my neck. His hands so gentle and sensuous. So this is Sadistic Dom, who wants me to feel every sensation all at once - passion and pain, gentleness and harshness. 

I am dripping wet. 

He grabs my favorite dildo, a big, smooth purple phallic toy that glides inside me with ease. 

"Hold it," he tells me. 

DUDE!!! This thing is kinda heavy, I think to myself, but I clamp my vaginal muscles around the Purple Penis and hold on for dear life. Gravity fights against me though, and as it begins to slip I work my kegel muscles to draw it back up. 

Up, down, up, down....I am literally fucking myself right now. 

Then the sting of the whip across the back of my thighs contrasts sharply with the pleasure party going on between my thighs and I yell out...loudly. 

"OWW!!" I yell in protest. The back of my thighs are way more sensitive than my back and the pain has me reeling. Tears swell in my eyes and my breathing becomes labored. I start to cry a little, it's so damn good. 

"Oh GOD!" I exclaim as he continues to strike me.

"Sir will suffice," he replies and he presses against me again. He moves his fingers lightly, delicately, slowly up the back of my thighs, up my sides, in my armpits and up my arms. I am feeling pleasure, pain, anticipation...and now he's tickling me? REALLY? All the sensations are too much and I drop the Purple Penis. 

"Who do you belong to?" he whispers, his lips right next to my ear.

"I belong to you," I respond, fully aware of my error. 

He doesn't say a word, but just brings his hand to my neck.

I self correct. "I belong to you, Sir. Always." I say quietly. 

With that he kicks my legs apart, grabs my hips and enters me from behind...HARD. The sound of his hips pounding against me, the sound of my wetness reverberating with every thrust, my panting, his groaning, even the sound of the bed as we can't help but move it a little with all of our motion, all of it driving me crazy.

I hold on tightly to the bed posts as he lifts my legs off the floor and pounds into me with abandon, his hands in a vice grip on my hips. He grunts and groans more loudly now and the sounds and sensations are just too much...my pussy pulsates against his invading cock as I cum all over the place. Shortly after I feel his warm juices release deep inside of me as he cums.

We stand there quietly for a moment, then he releases my restraints, turns me around and kisses me deeply while I'm still basking in the after glow. I am so raw, still reveling in all the sensations that I barely feel him guiding me gently onto the bed. I lay on my stomach, spread eagle and taking up most of the space. I feel him gently kiss the back of my thighs, my back, my shoulders, then he strokes my hair. 

"Sleep," he says. 

"Yes, Sir," I reply as I drift off to sleep.

"What have I gotten myself into?" 

I ask myself this question when it is FAR too late for me to turn back now. I stand in front of the door, naked, as he has instructed. Sir has labeled it "The Dungeon" although it's just a basement that he has been working on for the past several weeks. Now he wants to christen it. We've had nothing but vanilla sex since he started on this project and my bratty attempts to bring out "The Dom" have been unsuccessful. I have a feeling all that pent up Dom-ness is about to be unleashed. 

"Open the door," he whispers in my ear. I smile slyly. During our scenes he is a man of few words but I can tell from his tone that he is excited for me to see what he's been working on. His erection that he has pressed against my ass is also a dead give away. 

I open the door, step inside, and gasp at the MASSIVE king-sized bed in the middle of the room which is bathed in red light. The bed is jet black with a metal frame and four very tall posts. One might consider it a normal piece of furniture if not for the straps and handcuffs hanging from it. On the table across from the bed is an assortment of Sir's favorite accoutrements, including several whips and a huge dildo. But he has also added a ball gag and  leather wrist restraints. 

I chuckle, then ask "Who's the gag for, me or you?" Invoking "the brat" while naked in the middle of a sex room when your Dom is just itching to flog you, AND your back is turned to him, is NOT a good idea. 

SMACK!!

He smacks my ass cheek so hard the sound reverberates throughout the room. I'm so surprised by it that I can only manage to gasp, the sound of which also seems to hang in the air longer than usual. And THAT is what he was working on...the acoustics. Anybody can buy a bed and equipment. But Sir, with his unique musician's ear, wants to be aurally surrounded by his sexual handiwork; a sort of audio porn.

"Do you have any more smart assed remarks, Sax?" he asks in his sexy, bedroom, don't-fuck-with-me voice. He's almost scary when he is this calm. I'm glad he loves me or this would be terrifying. 

"No," I answer, my butt cheek still stinging. If his hand hurts this much, how bad will the whips be? 

"No?" he asks.

"No, Sir" I say, my breathing heavier, my pussy already moist with anticipation.

He tells me to stand in front of the bed and I comply, my back still toward him. He raises my right hand and uses a leather cuff to tie me to the bed post. Then he moves to my other side, takes my left hand and puts it on his dick. 

"Stroke me," he commands.

I do as I'm told as he kisses me on my shoulder, his breathing getting heavier. He traces his finger down my spine. I moan and toss my head back feeling his erection grow in my hand. So, in spite of how intimidating the room is, and the fact that I'm partially bound, this is Sensuous Dom; the Dom who tortures me with soft kisses, and feathers, and makes me wait to climax.

I am wrong. 

"I'm going to fuck the shit out of you," he whispers in my ear, and I can almost hear the smile sneak across his face as he straps my other wrist to the bed post.

So, this is Pervert Dom; the Dom who uses different whips to see which one will make me cry out the loudest and who has never-ending stamina. 

I like Pervert Dom.

I look over my shoulder, stare him right in the eyes and say, "Bring, it."

I get home from the doctor's office. I sit in the car in the garage for a moment. Sir and I agreed not to bring our problems into the house. 

But surely this is an exception.

I steel myself and walk inside, the doctor's prediction still ringing in my ears, "You're going to need surgery." This doesn't really come as a surprise but it's still difficult to come to grips with the stunning reality. I need time to process this. I don't feel like answering a bunch of questions or running through all my options. I just need to decompress for a bit. But he's sitting on the couch when I walk in. If I can just put him off for a little while....

"Hey Baby," he says as I walk into the kitchen. 

"Hey...Baby. What's up?" Oh GOD!! That was WAY to cheery and phony. Alright, get it together. Maybe he didn't notice.

"You alright?" he asks. Of COURSE he noticed.

"Yep," I respond. That's it, keep it short and sweet. I grab a few strawberries from the fridge, and turn to the sink to rinse them off. I stare into the sink envisioning every worse case scenario. What if the surgery doesn't help? What if something goes wrong and I wind up even worse than before? What if he goes from being my Dom to being my nurse? Will he resent me? What if I DIE!?!? 

The strawberries are drowning at this point and once I stop fretting I realize that one of the strawberries has slipped from my hand and fallen into the sink. Naturally it heads straight for the drain and disappears before I can retrieve it. In my anger and frustration I just drop the other strawberries. I want to yell, throw something, kick something, but I remember I'm supposed to be playing it cool, and I look up and realize Sir is no longer on the couch. Without even moving, eyes still on the empty couch, I know where he is....standing behind me. He presses against me as he puts his hands on the counter flanking mine. 

"Talk to me," he says quietly. 

UGH!! I don't want to get into it right now. Oh fuck, just blurt it out and get it over with. 

"I'm going to need surgery," I say dispassionately. There was supposed to be some sort of follow up, but I'm mute. I don't know what else to say. I'm still staring into the sink, the gravity of it all weighing down on me. Tears start to well up and I futilely try to will them back into my eyeballs. I'm silent, trying to be strong.

He puts his arms around me and holds me close, tight.

"I got you" he says. 

As if he knew exactly EVERYTHING I was worrying about and knew EXACTLY what I needed to hear. I let go, put my head down and just bawl, tears landing on his arms, my arms, the sink, the stupid strawberries. Big, snotty, body shaking sobs. 

I let myself wallow in my pity party for a minute, grab a tissue and clean my face, then I turn toward him.

"I got you," he says again. 

"I know," I assure him. I should have ALWAYS known. 

I revel in the warmth of his embrace and then he looks down at me with a devilish grin and says, "But if it'll make you feel better, you can always suck my dick." 

His remark is so inappropriate for this moment I can't help but let out a huge laugh. We both have a macabre sense of humor, and his timing is oddly PERFECT. 

"Wow," I say in mock astonishment. "You're willing to do that for me?"

We stay there in the kitchen, wrapped in each other's arms, silent. I have a long road ahead of me, but for now, I just want to stay right where I am.

Safe. 
Home. 

Through a series of unfortunate events I find myself having to have my home renovated which means I'm staying in a hotel room....with my MOTHER!!!  LOL

No sexting.

No masturbating.

Absolutely NO chance my Dom will come over with the flogger!!

I can't even watch porn.

Hell, I'm writing this blog under the guise of "working."

Is it wrong that I'm fantasizing about being tied to the bed while my mother watches a church service on TV?

I'm looking at the hotel's king sized beds and thinking "Oh the fun Sir and I could have on these!" 

I'm having a LOT of sex....in my head. LOL

It's only for a few days, Saxmaniac, hang in there. 

Submitting myself to my Dom is both exhilarating and in some ways terrifying. I'm not afraid that he will harm me, but I am sometimes afraid of the emotions that come pouring out. Sometimes after we've finished my emotions are raw and at the surface, I'm feeling everything at once - the pain, the passion, the eroticism, relief and exhilaration. Past lovers weren't able to deal with the emotions even without the kink. Once I asked for the kink they really freaked out. 

My Dom is strong enough and secure enough to endure it all and I am free to release everything that I am feeling. Once I come down I know he will still be there, waiting for me, helping me recover. But I often wonder where these emotions will take me. I've been reserved and hidden my true emotions for so long, confronting them can be daunting. 

But confronting them, knowing that I will wind up in his arms in the end makes it well worth the journey. 

My Dom and I are new to BDSM. I was drawn to it because of "50 Shades of Grey." (Yes, I know)

We have been in a long-term relationship, off and on, for several decades now. We have grown children. But for some reason I never truly felt like I knew where I stood with him. I didn't feel safe or secure in our relationship. It's probably why we drifted apart so many times. But when I looked into BDSM and learned what it REALLY was, I knew I wanted to explore it. There was certainly passion there, but I believe both of us were trying to be what we THOUGHT the other wanted us to be instead of exploring our true natures. I am naturally quiet and reserved, he is more outgoing and outspoken. We were a Dom/sub couple before we knew what that meant. 

We had to learn how to truly trust each other, and I began to push my sexual boundaries with his guidance. We are so much closer now and I can't imagine that there is anything I wouldn't let him do to me. I know that my Sir loves and adores me and I feel like I know where I  stand with him. Like I know, for lack of a better phrase, "my place." Who knew that exploring the kinky side of me would be just what we needed to be closer? 

I look forward to more discoveries about myself with the help of this amazing, and patient, man.