Sunday, February 22, 2015

A blogging friend asked that if I had seen 50 Shades of Grey, I hadn't and told her that my own Christian Grey was visiting Paris, Joseph was here. He wanted to see me, and I, with trepidation, him. After dinner we returned to the Pullman, where his room had a view of the Eiffel Tower off a small balcony. Despite the cold night air I went on to the terrace and stared at the lights of the tower while gripping the railing. Joseph came up behind me, his hands were warm on my bare shoulders, he nuzzled my neck and asked if I wanted to make love. "Of course," I quickly replied, "that is why I'm here.

Making love, is a relative term for Joseph, a euphemism for something darker. His second question got to the point, "Do you want it rough?" I appreciated his asking, rather than assuming, but it took longer to give him my answer, as I knew what would follow. "Yes," I told him in as soft, reluctant voice and he asked to repeat my answer and I told him yes again this time with affirmation. He slipped my dress off and I was naked in the night air, his hands caressing me till I began to forget what was coming, but it came. When it was over he gathered me into his arms and comforted me till I cried myself to sleep.

Joseph has returned to Columbia and he has asked that I join him. Though tempted, I won't as I have a desire for self preservation. But now that the bruises and black eye have faded along with the marks from the whipping, I've wakened in the night missing him.



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