Insecurities

Insecurities, January 20, 2024 I share the following, not to dishonor, but as a true testimony of my own insecurities and shortcomings. In years to come, I hope to look back on this chronicle and recognize how far I have come and the sensitive lover I have blossomed into. Until such a day, here is my account. One tends to think that with the passing of time our bodies become less controllable. Yet, as I reflect, it appears that no matter the age, our bodies do not always respond according to the will of our minds. Our chubby, tottering legs can barely keep us upright as a toddler. As teenagers, our bodies churn with rampant hormones. In adulthood, our bodies do not always rise to the occasion our salacious inner beings wish to experience. We are reminded daily of how little control we hold in this world. On this particular evening, Mars had brought an offering of dinner, but it was quickly abandoned in the heat of impassioned hello-kisses. Pulling back, I gazed into his crystal eyes, noting a myriad of emotions. There was the expected feelings of lust, need, and dominance. Nevertheless, if I peered a bit deeper, there was more, so much more. Pain, discouragement, lack of sleep, and a lonely heart echoed, hiding behind the twinkling eyes and boyish smile. This would never do. Concern wrinkled the sacred place between my brows. I bit my lip and gripped his broad hand in my own as I guided the lofty god to my bedroom. Traditionally, control was part of Mars's jurisdiction, but not tonight. Arranged prior to his arrival, the god was to be putty in my hands. Recalling this agreement, and what actually happened, has me shaking my head. My inner god snorts. I should have known better. When has the great Mars ever, ever surrendered sovereignty? My sanctuary was prepared for us. The intention was to treat Mars to a soothing massage. Seal-gray bedding lay pulled back and neatly folded at the foot, while a Persian purple blanket lay protectively over the surface. At the sight, the weary god gave an audible sigh. In the war on behalf of humanity, Mars had injured his left shoulder, prohibiting him from lifting it and limiting his mobility. Meekly following my instructions, Mars removed his slate-gray hoodie and then loose-fitting jeans. I admit, I unashamedly ogled him the entire time. Some days, it was good to be me. In contrast, I chose to remain in my carefully selected fuzzy pajamas. Tonight was about the god, not my inner goddess. I gave her a stern look and reminder, which she flippantly ignored. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Wincing, the spent god spread himself over my bed. The golden hue of the sanctuary immediately enveloped him, bathing the swell of his mighty calves, his oak-like thighs, rotund buttocks and muscular torso, chiseled deltoid and arms in charmed illuminance. I hardly wished I could transform into light and join the illumination in its intimate worship of the god's physique. My inner goddess appreciatively fainted. The sons of Olympus certainly know how to steal away a girl's breath. Resolute in my mission of mercy, I warmed the sweet almond oil in my hands, rubbing them together fervently. Squelching noises of my hands made my freshly revived inner goddess wish the sounds were coming from somewhere in my southern-most region. I gave her a chastening glare. Now was not the time. For the next half hour, I dedicated my mind and body to Mars's relief, fixating my massaging hands on his shoulders, trapezius and deltoids, especially his wounded left side. I spoke soothingly, apologizing when the pressure became too intense and the god growled, wincing in pain and toes curling. I kept my conversation light and engaging to distract him as I enlisted my knuckles and fists on the stubborn knots and worked a cruel kink out of overly strained muscles and tendons. His flesh turned red under my ministrations. Poor god. Nevertheless, the tautness began to wane. Mars jerked less when my fingers passed across sensitive knots and his breathing steadied with every stroke. In my focused efforts, my flesh became overheated despite the window open to the night's wintry embrace. My sapphire curls were damp on my temples. I was compelled to shed my bulky, fuzzy leggings. A bit later, finding myself only slightly revived, my top joined its partner on the floor. I was now revealed to be clad in a trim noir tank top and cheeky crisscross panties of a deep rose persuasion. Because of my petite frame and the earnestness of my aid, I chose to kneel on the bed or as necessary straddle the god's superb frame. Professionally, of course. This course of action allowed me to commission my full weight down my arms and into my hands without causing injury to my body as I worked. My inner goddess was delighted in the whispering touch of Mars's roving fingertips as they tickled my outer thigh and around back to my plump derriere. Several times, his fingertips sought their way through the silky fabric of my moistening slit, but each attempt was thwarted as I administered pressure to a tender muscle. With a manly whimper, his fingers would fall away, his attention diverted away from me and back on his own body. It seemed my inner goddess was not the only one needing restraint and self-control. To his incredulity, the anguish eased, and he began to experimentally roll his shoulder to and fro. I rolled my eyes. While far from qualified, I had carefully cultivated my skills and knowledge, aspiring to be an accomplished and adroit paramour. Mars knows this, yet the severity of his injury had him doubting my skills on this occasion. I tutted at his lack of faith in my healing magic. Seeking further relief, I ran my hands down his lower back. This was purely for professional reasons, and certainly not for the lascivious excuse of admiring his upper glutes up close. Very close. I had worked my way back up the ladder of his back, fingers circling acutely into his neck muscles, when I abruptly found myself staring at the laxibasical spinning phalates hanging from the eggshell ceiling. Wait! Wait! Just a blithering moment. I was in charge. An impish smile caught the corner of my burgundy lips. My inner goddess wondered how long Mars had planned to commandeer my objective. I tried not to humpf as Mars's weight came crashing down on me, lips demanding my embrace. Oh, well. I suppose he had been obedient for a full half an hour. I do believe that is a record for him. With a chuckle, I relinquished the reins and matched his kisses, arms and legs tangling around him. The dominating Mars put me through the paces with rigorous dexterity. My body trembled and shook at the command of his fingers. I felt my mind drift to its happy place of orgasmic euphoria. I had nothing to do, no responsibilities, and no control over my situation. Well, within reason. You understand my meaning. Cunning fingers released my floodgates with such fury that I would later wring my tank top out before placing it in the washer. My nectar had thoroughly saturated the thin cotton fabric. Stripping off my soggy garment, I was flipped onto my abdomen, knees bent under me. Mars hooked his hands in the crease of my hips and barbarically yanked me backward into the concave of his hips. I gasped at the force, but had little to fear. I intergot a squeal in anticipation of the impending attack. The slickness between my thighs increased, and I imagined my slit glistening like a thousand priceless diamonds in the flickering light of my sanctuary. I quickly gathered the covers beneath me, a bolster to lean against before my insides were atrociously rearranged. His thick, protected glory plunged mercilessly within me. I endured my cocoon, screaming at the sudden pain while, simultaneously, eagerly stretching, not only to accommodate, but to tease and pulse for his pleasure as well as my own. It all laid out just as my inner goddess envisioned. Mars laid siege, and I screamed in unison with my body as Mars groaned, his hips and thighs a murderous blur behind me. The sounds of our pounding bodies challenged my screams for the spotlight, filling the room and threatening to disturb the neighbors. Of course, that thought was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment. My reasoning powers were too concerned about maintaining the link between body and soul. Gradually, I noticed a progressive change. The covetable length that was orchestrating so many orgasms began to abate. The tenacious head reverberating against my inner gate began to withdraw. Nothing unconventional. My inner goddess courted a smile. I pulled away. Time for his pleasure. I did blush a bit, abashed. My forehead wrinkled. Mars was to have been my captive for the evening. Yet, the intrusion of his familiar, hypnotic fingers, I had caved and melted at his touch. Like a puppy, I had rolled over, exposing my undersides and submitted to his whim, with my tongue rolling to the side. I was so weak. Darn my inner goddess. By now, Mars had stretched his long form over the bed, head sinking into my plush pillows. Surreptitiously, I reached for a microfiber towel to dab the hot nectar trailing down my inner thigh. My inner goddess did a silly little dance. Gods of Olympus, Mars knew how to please a woman. My knees were still wobbly from the vehemence Mars had wrought on me, as I crawled between his massive thighs to his glory, waiting for my lips. It was there I first noticed something I'd never witnessed mid-session. The exceptional glory, a prestigious obelisk with thick veins that ran from a manicured base to a rotund head, lay slack and subsided against his loins. Curious. Mars chuckled, a little baffled at his state of rest. No matter. My inner goddess was positive she could rouse the waning member into full pomp and prestige. With my nectar still running and cooling down my thighs, I bent my head with keen alacrity. I've been reluctant to share a secret with the illustrious Mars. Were I to openly admit that his pre-nectar was the most ambrosial of all the gods and deities to grace my bed, it might lead Mars to think I was a fibber, intent on stroking his ego with exaggerated tails for some nefarious personal goals. Akin to a sommelier, I savor, or appreciate, the range of notable masculine nectars who titillate my taste buds. However, there is a crucial distinction with Mars, an almost irresistible saccharine flavor that causes my inner goddess to crave his release with every fiber. With sapphire curls restrained against my head by his tremendous hand, throat reverberating with my sloppy moans and toes curling, I lost myself in my assiduity. To my slight mystification, nothing happened. Oh, his glory appreciated the attention, but nothing more. For the first time in our long-standing history, his entire length and girth fit within my throat, face buried down to the tiny hairs tickling my nose. I employed a few last-ever tricks with my tongue and lips, but to no avail. From the tense state of his body and limbs elongated in its forced endeavor, I surmised his muscles must be aching under the strain. Fearing he would further exasperate the already incensed shoulder, I thought a course of action that would bar any feelings of chagrin or discomposure from entering the situation and spoiling a wondrous evening. That was delightful. I emphasized each word with truthful sincerity, rising from his thighs and licking my lips. Thank you. I sat back on my heels, allowing my petite frame to grow limp. Mars made a few baffled comments concerning the state of his typically demanding and ostentatious member. I cooed, assuring Mars he had nothing to worry about as I rested my head on his sculpted pectoral. All was well. Besides, there was a most logical explanation. The pressures of his day and the significance of his injured shoulder would have depleted every ounce of his energy. I cuddled closer encouragingly. Stubborn to his core, Mars rose and straddled my recumbent form. Gripping his nonchalant glory and his eyes desperately affixed on my breasts, Mars stroked with the fury of a madman. The enterprise proved futile. With a sigh, Mars eventually abandoned the attempt and pulled me close to his chest, laying with eyes closed. I willed every bit of healing, soothing cerulean energy to engulf and penetrate every weary muscle. Quiet moments, suffused with casual whispered words, filled the moments until our stomachs rumbled, cluing us to the jilted dinner so recklessly discarded on the coffee table. Rising, I divested the mattress of the sopping linens and impermeable covering, slumping them in the wash before producing fresh bedding. Meanwhile, Mars availed himself of the shower, allowing the hot water to relieve his now aching shoulder. Dinner was a light affair. Nevertheless, I was deeply grateful for the reviving sustenance as we swapped stories and relayed work updates. I also undertook to hydrate. With an adorable crooked smile, Mars departed my abode with the firm promise to ice his shoulder and go straight to bed. I watched his descent with arms folded across my chest. Once out of sight, I turned my gaze heavenward, entreating the moon goddess to bring him the one meant to console and lighten his steps. It seemed that the action of fastening the door invited all manner of troubling thoughts and concerns that were in direct conflict with my feelings and verbal assurances only moments before to assail me. Had I done something wrong? I knew I had obtained a couple of unwanted pounds around my midriff. Was that it? Surely the weight was not that noticeable? Had my brazen moans or oral ministrations been off-putting and chased away his pleasure? Despite my utmost care and preparation, did I carry an unpleasant aroma? Panicked, I performed a thorough investigation. No, I did not think that was the issue. After months and countless hours spent together, had the fated day arrived? Had the Olympian grown wary of the mortal, yet was too chivalrous to broach the subject? A milestone birthday was hovering on my horizon. Regardless of my energetic spirit, had it grown too old? A legion of fears encamped in my mind, giving rise to genuine consternation, as these thoughts, and dozens more, rapidly became entrenched in the quiet spaces of my heart. What did this mean for my love? Would he, too, detect my advancing days, and his body seek comfort and gratification elsewhere? Was I failing at all points of my life? I could feel my blood pressure rise as my focus turned inward, and I selfishly made the situation about myself. Unable to help myself, I turned to my precious confidant. Listening with his heart to my halting and cautiously revealed account, I spilled my accumulating worries into the keen ears of my love. Finding a trusting, devoted soulmate who gifts wings and is sagacious, wise, and shrewd is rare and astonishing. In remarkably short order, the volcanic lava broiling within my esophagus was mollified by my love's perceptive discernment and astute experience. For the span of two hours, earbuds tightly implanted on either side of my head, my love's words cheered and lightened my heart. Though miles apart, his assuaging words whispered in my ears. My love fought back the demons with his steady voice, until I quite forgot my anxiety and alarm and was able to laugh about this and that. The only thing lacking was my love's physical form. Even my inner goddess marveled at how we yearned for his intimate presence. Do not misunderstand my sentiments. I had thoroughly enjoyed my evening with Mars, and thanks to my love, I anticipated the lighting in a future evening spent in his company. Nevertheless, the salacious dalliances were akin to sculling across a crystal lake to a nearby island, enjoying its tantalizing offerings before paddling back to the mainland, back to my home. But that was it. My soul had found its home, and now, the hour approaching midnight, it yearned for the treasured security of home. I reached for my phone. Its bright light was obtrusive and overpowering in the darkness of my sanctuary. Eighteen hours until I was due at my love's abode. I suppose the quickest way to enjoy the hours apart was to sleep for as long as possible. Bidding my love's sweetest dreams, I snuggled into my pillow nest, willing the hours to fly by until I was in the arms of the one my heart adored. Until next time, XO, I'll see.