Nearly two and half years ago, we stayed there, at hotel Palomar, on 4th and Market. It was a very early stage of our relationship. I had no expectation of it, I remembered walking from Embarcadero, I was late from my therapy, he greeted me in his business suit and we started the evening with a lot of rope, and that evening he took photos of me like that was how it was going to be, me spread eagle. The next morning he was looking at them on his computer, and I was thinking about how this man was kinky and crazy, yet I liked it, because I was not a "normal" woman. I liked kinks and craziness.
In that precise moment I also realized that I was going for a ride, a ride I had no idea where I'd end up.
Where have I gone and where have I ended up? I took a stock and had a look back. Via a book I had pulled together stories of the past, I realized perhaps I loved him because he made me feel good.
He told me a story, about his prior relationship. He was with a woman, for some time. she broke up with him. He thought that he loved her. When they got back together, he realized that his feeling was no longer true. Was it because he was rejected, that he loved her, or was it because he truly loved her but he later changed his mind? He could no longer trust his own feelings. Since then he was unable to commit, each year he averaged dating 3 women, until he had a child, with a woman he dated, and then he had to put a stop to dating. He chose time more carefully, when he had so little spare time, and he chose me. "You are special to me." He told me while fucked me in the shower. My make up was smeared and I was drenched in his liquid. We took shower together after.
He told me that in his out of town relationships, some could also escalate, like when they wanted to move to San Francisco to be with him, and how he had to end them in a way. Women liked him. I could tell.
He told me that he had to end a relationship with a girl because he let her use his computer, and she found picture of other women in sheer underwear and wigs. He was cheating even though he never met up with the ex girlfriend who sent the suggestive photos. He liked and encouraged the photos. He knew that in essence he was cheating, so he did not pursue the relationship and repair the damage.
I put myself in that woman's shoes, I thought, what if I knew that he was doing that with other women, what then? I then realized that it would not bother me at all. I was always strange that way. I rarely felt the jealousy, I needed to only to know, that he loved me.
He asked me if anything needed to change. If I wanted anything to change. I told him that after what he had told me, perhaps I needed no change. Perhaps I was content with the way things were, because what if what I felt was just an illusion?
The only thing that was true was that my happiness was hinged on him wanting me. His desire of me made me feel loved. I desired him because he desired me. It's the classic sub vs. dom stuff. It took me a while to figure out, but the dynamic was clear to me. He likes to be in control. I liked him controlling me.
Earlier in the evening, he pounded me and then told me to be quiet, to lie just the side way so that he could fuck me. He made those noises when he fucked me, as if I was a rag doll as he stuck his penis inside of me, like I was the flex doll, it was a video clip he sent me, a live woman was made into a doll where a man used her like no one's business. He then pressed hard on me with this body parts exposed to my face, squeezed down hard as I could barely breathe, then he pinched my nipples so hard that it hurt, I must remain quiet. I must be so still so that he could do what he wanted with me.
And while I was in pain, I loved it. I realized deep down that was what bounded us, it was his desire to dominate me and treat me like an experiment, like he was trying to duplicate what he saw on porn, that made me excited. I was no longer a person, I was an object to him, that made him feel strong and manly, and that made me feel weak and feminine.
We spoke some more though after sex he wanted to sleep. I washed the rope, and hang them to dry. He left his clothes on the floor, I picked them up. I massaged his back, his shoulders, and he was falling asleep. He appeared far and away and I slept in my quarter. I told him that I liked that he traveled a lot for work, that he was not around much, and that he was left handed like me and he was emotionally distant. I couldn't figure out why for so long but I managed to understand in the end.
I did not and could not deal with heavy emotional discussions. I liked men who were emotionally distant like my father. I liked when they were often away, I liked my space, my girlfriends, my thoughts in my own head when they had left me.
I pushed men away when they tried to become too close to me too fast. I wanted that distance, he gave me the space I needed to breathe.
He said that sleeping with me, being with me, made him happy. I felt the same way. Sleeping with him made me happy too. Being with him made me whole. I thought that I was super attracted to his looks, then I realized it was not his face that attracted me the most, it was the way he smelled. The way he carried himself, the way he used me in bed. It all boiled to down to that. The way he regarded me. I was his toy. I did exactly what he wanted, and I liked it.
He desired my body. I wanted to be his.
The world made sense when I felt that I belonged somewhere. It was just like the movie Secretary. I needed him to rescue me so that I could be used in a way he wanted to use me. I needed someone who treated me like a machine, to give sexual pleasure, but that person must adore and love me, even though he may treat me like a subject.
In the end we did have the talk that I was thinking to have. I did not expect him to change or make me leave my family. I did not expect him to give more than what he's given me, today. But I did feel that he changed his ways. He told met hat he no longer saw others. "In the summer we tried to see other people but that did not work." He'd say. I tried. I knew he tried. But it did not work. Somehow when you loved someone so much so, you just couldn't continue having sexual relations with others. It won't work.
At the middle of the night he finally told me that I could go down on him. So I did, and he was hard again and he fucked me until he came. He made louder noise than when we were at his place. He was always so quiet at his place. Here in a hotel room he made normal amount of noise.
I liked that he enjoyed sex with me. I liked that he desired me. I liked that he told me what to do to make him come. I liked pleasing him. I fantasized living with him. He was away a lot. When he got back, he just used me for sex. I liked that image. I wanted to be used by him.
Early in the morning, we exchanged gifts. I bought him wine. And I made a book. He got me things. A T-shirt that says "Indoorsy". A wallet and a bag. Only he would do that. He's the only person who bought me jewelry and purses. He's the only one who would do something like that, something small yet impactful. Only a boyfriend would do that. Not husband but a thoughtful boyfriend. He told me that he liked the book. The book that I compiled - combing through four live blogs to get the stories that were most representative of my feelings of him.
He was not that concerned that I was married. He knew that was just a pure fact of mine. He was not interested in me leaving my family, or my marriage. He was not interested in making any changes. Perhaps when we did not have children we could make a change. He suggested. I think that would be at least 12 - 15 years away.
I was worried that he'd suggest a change, a life event change where I'd be leaving my life behind to start anew with him.
I was worried because it would be too much of a change. I knew virtually nothing about him. I knew that he would like to see me more, but I also knew that he may not be able to see me more. I knew that this was going to be my last chance to love, and I was worried that it would end too prematurely.
Where do we go from here? I did not think he knew the answer, I had no answer myself.
But I knew one thing I did not know before. I knew that I was brought back into his life to knew how I was at the core of my being. I was to provide pleasure to him. I wanted to please him, and that was the most profound discovery. If he no longer needed me, if I could no longer please him, I would be sad for a little bit, but I would move on, because he no longer needed me. But for as long as I'm needed, as long as I could provide pleasure to him, I would be around and I would be waiting for him. Because my role was defined and that's how I obtain pleasure.
So that was what I learned that evening at the hotel.
I could find solace in learning that about me, at last.
He left the hotel before I was up around 7:20. He was gone. He showered, he sang in the shower. He put on his clothes, took all of the stuff away, including the ropes, and he kissed me goodbye and he left. He found the do not disturb sign to hang outside of the hotel room, he went to check out.
I slept for a little longer and then I started my day also.
He left his watch at the desk. I picked it up. I needed to return to him but then work got busy.
I thought about the ways he could have existed in my life.
I never thought he'd exist as if he was new, every time I saw him, he seemed new.
I wanted to see him more.
I wanted some sort of future.
I just did not know what that future looked like. But he was going to be in it. I knew that for sure.
In that precise moment I also realized that I was going for a ride, a ride I had no idea where I'd end up.
Where have I gone and where have I ended up? I took a stock and had a look back. Via a book I had pulled together stories of the past, I realized perhaps I loved him because he made me feel good.
He told me a story, about his prior relationship. He was with a woman, for some time. she broke up with him. He thought that he loved her. When they got back together, he realized that his feeling was no longer true. Was it because he was rejected, that he loved her, or was it because he truly loved her but he later changed his mind? He could no longer trust his own feelings. Since then he was unable to commit, each year he averaged dating 3 women, until he had a child, with a woman he dated, and then he had to put a stop to dating. He chose time more carefully, when he had so little spare time, and he chose me. "You are special to me." He told me while fucked me in the shower. My make up was smeared and I was drenched in his liquid. We took shower together after.
He told me that in his out of town relationships, some could also escalate, like when they wanted to move to San Francisco to be with him, and how he had to end them in a way. Women liked him. I could tell.
He told me that he had to end a relationship with a girl because he let her use his computer, and she found picture of other women in sheer underwear and wigs. He was cheating even though he never met up with the ex girlfriend who sent the suggestive photos. He liked and encouraged the photos. He knew that in essence he was cheating, so he did not pursue the relationship and repair the damage.
I put myself in that woman's shoes, I thought, what if I knew that he was doing that with other women, what then? I then realized that it would not bother me at all. I was always strange that way. I rarely felt the jealousy, I needed to only to know, that he loved me.
He asked me if anything needed to change. If I wanted anything to change. I told him that after what he had told me, perhaps I needed no change. Perhaps I was content with the way things were, because what if what I felt was just an illusion?
The only thing that was true was that my happiness was hinged on him wanting me. His desire of me made me feel loved. I desired him because he desired me. It's the classic sub vs. dom stuff. It took me a while to figure out, but the dynamic was clear to me. He likes to be in control. I liked him controlling me.
Earlier in the evening, he pounded me and then told me to be quiet, to lie just the side way so that he could fuck me. He made those noises when he fucked me, as if I was a rag doll as he stuck his penis inside of me, like I was the flex doll, it was a video clip he sent me, a live woman was made into a doll where a man used her like no one's business. He then pressed hard on me with this body parts exposed to my face, squeezed down hard as I could barely breathe, then he pinched my nipples so hard that it hurt, I must remain quiet. I must be so still so that he could do what he wanted with me.
And while I was in pain, I loved it. I realized deep down that was what bounded us, it was his desire to dominate me and treat me like an experiment, like he was trying to duplicate what he saw on porn, that made me excited. I was no longer a person, I was an object to him, that made him feel strong and manly, and that made me feel weak and feminine.
We spoke some more though after sex he wanted to sleep. I washed the rope, and hang them to dry. He left his clothes on the floor, I picked them up. I massaged his back, his shoulders, and he was falling asleep. He appeared far and away and I slept in my quarter. I told him that I liked that he traveled a lot for work, that he was not around much, and that he was left handed like me and he was emotionally distant. I couldn't figure out why for so long but I managed to understand in the end.
I did not and could not deal with heavy emotional discussions. I liked men who were emotionally distant like my father. I liked when they were often away, I liked my space, my girlfriends, my thoughts in my own head when they had left me.
I pushed men away when they tried to become too close to me too fast. I wanted that distance, he gave me the space I needed to breathe.
He said that sleeping with me, being with me, made him happy. I felt the same way. Sleeping with him made me happy too. Being with him made me whole. I thought that I was super attracted to his looks, then I realized it was not his face that attracted me the most, it was the way he smelled. The way he carried himself, the way he used me in bed. It all boiled to down to that. The way he regarded me. I was his toy. I did exactly what he wanted, and I liked it.
He desired my body. I wanted to be his.
The world made sense when I felt that I belonged somewhere. It was just like the movie Secretary. I needed him to rescue me so that I could be used in a way he wanted to use me. I needed someone who treated me like a machine, to give sexual pleasure, but that person must adore and love me, even though he may treat me like a subject.
In the end we did have the talk that I was thinking to have. I did not expect him to change or make me leave my family. I did not expect him to give more than what he's given me, today. But I did feel that he changed his ways. He told met hat he no longer saw others. "In the summer we tried to see other people but that did not work." He'd say. I tried. I knew he tried. But it did not work. Somehow when you loved someone so much so, you just couldn't continue having sexual relations with others. It won't work.
At the middle of the night he finally told me that I could go down on him. So I did, and he was hard again and he fucked me until he came. He made louder noise than when we were at his place. He was always so quiet at his place. Here in a hotel room he made normal amount of noise.
I liked that he enjoyed sex with me. I liked that he desired me. I liked that he told me what to do to make him come. I liked pleasing him. I fantasized living with him. He was away a lot. When he got back, he just used me for sex. I liked that image. I wanted to be used by him.
Early in the morning, we exchanged gifts. I bought him wine. And I made a book. He got me things. A T-shirt that says "Indoorsy". A wallet and a bag. Only he would do that. He's the only person who bought me jewelry and purses. He's the only one who would do something like that, something small yet impactful. Only a boyfriend would do that. Not husband but a thoughtful boyfriend. He told me that he liked the book. The book that I compiled - combing through four live blogs to get the stories that were most representative of my feelings of him.
He was not that concerned that I was married. He knew that was just a pure fact of mine. He was not interested in me leaving my family, or my marriage. He was not interested in making any changes. Perhaps when we did not have children we could make a change. He suggested. I think that would be at least 12 - 15 years away.
I was worried that he'd suggest a change, a life event change where I'd be leaving my life behind to start anew with him.
I was worried because it would be too much of a change. I knew virtually nothing about him. I knew that he would like to see me more, but I also knew that he may not be able to see me more. I knew that this was going to be my last chance to love, and I was worried that it would end too prematurely.
Where do we go from here? I did not think he knew the answer, I had no answer myself.
But I knew one thing I did not know before. I knew that I was brought back into his life to knew how I was at the core of my being. I was to provide pleasure to him. I wanted to please him, and that was the most profound discovery. If he no longer needed me, if I could no longer please him, I would be sad for a little bit, but I would move on, because he no longer needed me. But for as long as I'm needed, as long as I could provide pleasure to him, I would be around and I would be waiting for him. Because my role was defined and that's how I obtain pleasure.
So that was what I learned that evening at the hotel.
I could find solace in learning that about me, at last.
He left the hotel before I was up around 7:20. He was gone. He showered, he sang in the shower. He put on his clothes, took all of the stuff away, including the ropes, and he kissed me goodbye and he left. He found the do not disturb sign to hang outside of the hotel room, he went to check out.
I slept for a little longer and then I started my day also.
He left his watch at the desk. I picked it up. I needed to return to him but then work got busy.
I thought about the ways he could have existed in my life.
I never thought he'd exist as if he was new, every time I saw him, he seemed new.
I wanted to see him more.
I wanted some sort of future.
I just did not know what that future looked like. But he was going to be in it. I knew that for sure.
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