Spooner

I entered the house around three in the morning, my legs still wobbly from the night’s activities. It had been everything I remembered and more, and for that I was completely grateful to Aaron. We hadn’t connected in well over a year, after life took us in different directions. Our impromptu evening made me realize just how much I’d missed his salacious energy, and the way he uniquely nurtured that part of me.

Now my bleary eyes look at the clock, recognizing that I had to pick up my husband Julian at the airport in seven hours. I instinctively wanted to take a shower before bed, knowing that I’d sleep soundly after Aaron had drained every ounce of energy I had in me, and as he often did, plus one drop more. It was those traits that made me loyal to him.

If I didn’t shower, then the sweat and sex coating my body would infuse themselves into the sheets. Julian would normally want that. He’d want the heady aroma to permeate the air as I recounted my escapades in delicious detail, fueling his fire so intently that I may not get any work done for a day or so, depending on how much reconnection he felt was appropriate, and of what nature.

But that, as noted, was normally, and where the conundrum lay. Tonight’s meeting with the best dom I’d ever come to know had been an aberration, and beyond the boundaries that Julian and I had agreed on...