HOME | DD

Description
It was dark.  I remember that.

Have you ever stood in the dark, wearing nothing but your underwear?  Feeling like a piece of pray, because you know someone else is in the room, watching your every move, because you can hear them breathing in the deep recess of the corner.

I was 19, and I was standing in the dark in black silk and lace, face painted; a mask against my unknown audience. My heart was beating in my throat, and there was buzzing.  My hands were shaking and the damn Minuet in G wouldn’t get out of my head.

No one told me it would be like this.

Minutes passed, the longest moments of my life, as I waited for him to make a move.  I was just a rag-doll, in this scenario.  Someone to do whatever he wished, whatever he wanted me to.  Lie still, strip slow, bite me harder, fuck me faster.  Lord only knows there isn’t much I haven’t heard.

But I remember, standing there with my nineteen-year-old nerves and small town girl fright, how he touched me for the first time.  His skin was rough, but his touch was soft.  Pulling me to his body, he let his worker’s fingers run over the silk at my shoulder; tour the light dip of my waist.  His breath was a hot breeze against my neck: calming, constant.

I felt better, then.

Soon his hands were everywhere, and I was turned in his arms like a prize to be adored.  The straps were slipped down, the laces undone.  I was de-robed, but not yet unveiled.  His hands, his mouth was on me.  This wasn’t new, but it was so strange.

Then there was a pause.  He stopped, looked up, as if remembering himself.  And in an action never again repeated in all my years, he cupped my chin, leaned in, and kissed me on the mouth.  After, he took my hands, and held them to his chest.  I started to undo the buttons, but he held them still.

At first I did not hear the words, for his eyes were to the ceiling I was shielded at his chest.  Only with the dipping of his chin, and the end of his pleading did I truly understand.  Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

So with a kiss to the forehead and tears in his eyes, he led me to bed, and I became just another lost soul.  In tangled sheets, in sweat drenched dreams while I choked back cries to God and anyone else who was listening, I thought just one thing.

No one told me it would be like this.

Description
It was dark.  I remember that.

Have you ever stood in the dark, wearing nothing but your underwear?  Feeling like a piece of pray, because you know someone else is in the room, watching your every move, because you can hear them breathing in the deep recess of the corner.

I was 19, and I was standing in the dark in black silk and lace, face painted; a mask against my unknown audience. My heart was beating in my throat, and there was buzzing.  My hands were shaking and the damn Minuet in G wouldn’t get out of my head.

No one told me it would be like this.

Minutes passed, the longest moments of my life, as I waited for him to make a move.  I was just a rag-doll, in this scenario.  Someone to do whatever he wished, whatever he wanted me to.  Lie still, strip slow, bite me harder, fuck me faster.  Lord only knows there isn’t much I haven’t heard.

But I remember, standing there with my nineteen-year-old nerves and small town girl fright, how he touched me for the first time.  His skin was rough, but his touch was soft.  Pulling me to his body, he let his worker’s fingers run over the silk at my shoulder; tour the light dip of my waist.  His breath was a hot breeze against my neck: calming, constant.

I felt better, then.

Soon his hands were everywhere, and I was turned in his arms like a prize to be adored.  The straps were slipped down, the laces undone.  I was de-robed, but not yet unveiled.  His hands, his mouth was on me.  This wasn’t new, but it was so strange.

Then there was a pause.  He stopped, looked up, as if remembering himself.  And in an action never again repeated in all my years, he cupped my chin, leaned in, and kissed me on the mouth.  After, he took my hands, and held them to his chest.  I started to undo the buttons, but he held them still.

At first I did not hear the words, for his eyes were to the ceiling I was shielded at his chest.  Only with the dipping of his chin, and the end of his pleading did I truly understand.  Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

So with a kiss to the forehead and tears in his eyes, he led me to bed, and I became just another lost soul.  In tangled sheets, in sweat drenched dreams while I choked back cries to God and anyone else who was listening, I thought just one thing.

No one told me it would be like this.