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MBarkerr

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About MBarkerr

About eight years ago, I met a woman who lit the flame of curiosity in me. Immediately, she had a hold, everything about her was more than the sum of her paspecial. She walked through the restaurant and everyone in there watched her. It was her confidence and certainty.

We began a relationship that was unlike anything I’d experienced before and since. I was mesmerised. I found her beautiful, though it wasn’t lust it was something deeper: desire, power, a directed energy, an insatiable desire to find more and to be the best I could be for her.

She’d humiliate me in front of a crowd of strangers, treat me with kindness in front of her friends, have me carry her bags into the flat and then take off her heels to rub her feet, run her a bath, spend hours massaging her and have me use my mouth to please her, leaving me frustrated. Our relationship was what she wanted our relationship to be. It always seemed to be right. My heart would pound as she ascended the stairs to the flat, as I listening to the echoed sound of her heels clacking on the steps, unsure what would follow as she came to the door, longing to be allowed to touch her, to watch her lips move as she spoke; to hear her voice. The longing for her to touch me gently, to show me kindness, to be sweet to me, was overwhelming. Whatever I had to take, I'd take in order to receive it.

Pleasing her became everything. Never has anything topped that feeling of confused, certain, beautiful, curious unpredictability, the overwhelming intensity of that submission. I don’t wish to rediscover something lost. I hope for the opportunity to add to it and develop it, through being open, willing and sensitive.
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