I return to Amanda this afternoon.
Kevin is at the office this morning for a couple hours while I do my laundry and pack, but he will be back around eleven to say goodbye, and I imagine, have his pleasure with me one last time.
By the end of every Kevin visit, I am aware that I could never live with him. This isn’t because he has bad living habits, but simply because if he had me any longer or more frequently, I would become common.
He once said, sort of as a wondered musing, that it would be interesting if I lived next door. He brought it up because the house around the bend had come up for sale, but I don’’t think Kevin meant that literally. He was just imagining me as the girl next door — with benefits — and playing out in his mind what it would be like to have me all the time, yet at an arm’s length.
He’s an arm’s length kind of guy.
He said nothing more about that, so perhaps he realized the same thing: I am more exciting to him because I am rare and time-limited. Every six weeks we each enter this alternate life together, and it’s somewhat dreamy, fully sex-infused. But it’s intense and orgasmic precisely because it’s not ordinary or frequent or everyday.
So we get to the end these days together, and we both know it’s time to say goodbye and return to real life.
Amanda has her reasons for putting me in this life of alternative pinball. I bounce between her and Kevin and Master McKenna. They each have me in their way. I don’t mind.
I don’t understand all of what’s in her head, but it occurs to me she sees me as having a unique “sexuality of special needs” — my desire for her as a woman and domme, my longing for a man, and my need for constant training and dominance at the hand of another. She has directed my life into this ping-pong arrangement, which allows me to be used and had and possessed while at the same time satisfying me in a kind of pinball rhythm of life.
She’s rather clever, that Amanda.
Later I will return home, take a shower, and have time to “wash that man right out of my hair,” as the song goes — which in my case is more literal than “South Pacific” intended it to be. But it won’t be because I wish to rid myself of him. It will simply be part of my transition back to Amanda and my normal life as her slave.
Most would think that to be a contradiction of terms. But I know these moments with Kevin are “other-world,” a vacation from my normal place as submissive and slave. This, with him, is my role-play; my submissive life is my normal.
All the same, this is always lovely: a short wrinkle in time when I’m just a woman with a man.