Space is the Place

I mentioned in a previous post that my magnificent k had sent me some pictures of her new house, and her room in it and all. I wanted to expand on my reaction to that a bit, as a means of unpacking some of the feelings it stirred up in me.

The first and most obvious thing is the D/s side of my reaction. I loved the openness and generosity in the gesture. She walked around snapping photos just for me, because she thought I'd like it and wanted to share it with me. There's really no way to overstate what a rush it is to know that not only would she feel perfectly comfortable showing me fairly intimate details of her daily life, but also that she'd actively set out to document it all as a project, purely self-motivated.

To that, I can add the extra power-surge that comes with "owning" the space she occupies in a small way. Besides seeing glimpses of things I've given her among her belongings, there's the knowledge that if I ever visited her there, I'd sort of know my way around already. A sense of familiarity. If I decided to stand under her window ("but soft!", etc.) one night, I'd know which window to stand under.

And then there's the angel in the details. Silly stuff, like the color of her sheets, the selection of books kept near the bedside, etc. They add texture to my imaginings. When I fantasize about being in that room (truly "owning" that space by being there and creating a memory there), there are rich details to draw on. When she's under the covers before turning out the light, calling me to say goodnight in her drowsy honeyed voice, I can see the pillow her head rests on. When she's at the computer typing sultry sexy words to me, I can see the chair her parted thighs sit on, the keyboard that her fingers flit to when not engaged beween those thighs.

It's really true that I'm not much of a visual person. All these things I've mentioned are wonderful and have opened up imaginative vistas I didn't dream of before, but they aren't the main thing that gets my imagination going. What does is a sense of the space surrounding my darling k.

I think it's some sort of remnant of back in the days when I used to study math seriously, and had to be able to picture manifolds in four-dimensional space and that sort of thing, but I'm very sensitive to surroundings that way. I'm indifferent about architecture when it comes to how buildings look, but I'm very focused on how they make you feel when you step inside. I also love art installations that are of the "environment" variety - something you step into and experience in a more physical way. Anyway, I always have a sense of my surroundings in terms of amounts of space in all three dimensions around my body, if that makes any sense.

The point is, in these pictures, there's enough to construct that sense of space, which gives me even more of a real feeling of inhabiting it as k does. That's what really shoots through my brainstem and activates all sorts of instinctual reactions, which bubble up as (naturally) lots of sexual fantasies. Though I may not remember the details of the surfaces of things, I know there's enough room to kick k's desk chair aside, sweep the keyboard out of the way, and bend her forward over that low desk, so that, propped on her hands, her luscious ass would be lifted to a delicious angle. I know that if I sat on the edge of her bed, she'd have to kneel and bridge her back to be able to take me in her mouth.

It's those details of physical space and spatial relationships, and especially how our bodies fit into them, that's been curling my toes lately. You are the most wonderful gal in the world to take those pictures for me, my sweet one.