Satisfaction

mmm yesterday was a satisfying day. I'm still a bit delirious about it all, to tell you the truth. So blissed out 24 hours later that this post may not make a whole lot of sense.

It's been a long while since my scrumptious k and I have been able to spend a long day together, due to our new schedules (mostly changes in my work). But yesterday I decided I'd had enough. Called in sick and spent all my time with the gal I dominate and love.

There's a whole different dynamic when you're not watching the clock, knowing you have to leave soon, or worried that you're staying up too late and will be all bleary in the morning. Of course I'll always steal whatever hours I can with her, and never regret it. Of course we are always in touch with email and text messages throughout the day. Of course her beauty, her submission, her devotion, her wonderful k-ness, are with me in every breath.

But all the same, I've missed having days like we did yesterday. On IM together for hours on end, taking breaks to eat and such, hovering over that bewitching ground that encompasses light banter, sublime declarations of love, silly teasing, sensuous foreplay, serious discussion, literary criticism, heart-expanding acts of devotion, and hour upon hour of scorching, intense, imaginative D/s sex scenes.

I'd almost forgotten how easy and natural it all is. Not that there isn't plenty of effort expended in focus, mental and physical energy. But the connection k and I share is just there. Not sought after, not toiled for, not painstakingly achieved, not agonized over. Just ubiquitous, part of the fabric of each of us, and more instrinsically part of the fabric we have been weaving together.

To spend a full day like that, watching the sun rise and fall, feeling the temperature change, share ridiculous minutiae of what we are eating and wearing and thinking. This, I think, is what a day with my woman will be like when we meet in real life. And damned if the online approximation doesn't make me hunger for that more than ever now.

Except of course, when I meet her face-to-face, there will be her eyes. Her lips. Her scent. The arch of her back. The tilt of her shoulder. The turn of her ankle. The rush of her breath against me. The taste of her neck. The curve and swivel of her hips against mine. The supple texture of her forearm under my hand. The slick spicy nectar that my tongue draws out. The tightening of muscles. The clutched coiling gasps of her passion. There will be the utterly incomprehensible transcendence of seeing her kneel by me.

And still there will be her eyes.

Eyes I've spent days and nights dreaming of. Eyes I will watch squint and flutter and widen. Eyes whose lids I will kiss, whose lashes I will feel brush against Me. Eyes I will focus deeply on, and deeply through. Eyes that say everything words can't. Eyes that bring forth and offer the undeniable and irresistible and bone-deep truth of her submission, her devotion, her love.

Those are the eyes my long day's journey into k has left me craving.