He's quiet now. Still shivering, not from being cold but from the adrenalin and sensations still rushing through his body. I have his head against my breast, his body across my lap curled around me. Pressed into me. A blanket covers him, my fingers run softly through his hair. There are no words now, only the sound of his breathing and sighing as he goes through the process of joining me consciously. I give him all the time he needs to come back to me. I want him to relish the journey. I want him to greet whatever feelings he encounters and let them speak to him. I want him to acknowledge whatever fears may have arisen and meet them face to face. I pull him closer. Pressing the side of his face into my breasts, feeling his lips moving along their softness. His eyes are closed...drifting in the safety of my comfort. His body periodically twitching as he unwinds.
My mind wanders over the scene that just finished. His body responsive to every touch, swat, lash and sting that came his way. I remember when we first started to play together how he was reserved and acted tough to show me he could take a lot. It took time to convince him I was more interested in breaking his shell not hardening it. I already knew he was a man, a good man and a strong man. When the cracks in his armor started to appear the intensity of our scenes increased. His body started to reach toward me for more. Every sigh, whimper, moan and yell became music to my soul and fuel to my swing. It was his invitation to dig deeper, to claw at the exterior of his shell until his soul was laid bare before us both. Finally the tears started to flow and I knew we hit hidden treasures. It was always his goal...to learn to cry again.
Now, months later he lays in my arms, armor voluntarily left at the door. His words are softer, richer and full of his humanity. He eyes look deeper into my soul and recognize who we are together in this journey. His flesh beaten, tired and abused. His face stained with dry tears. The strength in his surrender to lower his guard, to trust me with the unknown that lives within him; priceless. His soul and spirit revived. He's more beautiful to me now than when we first met.
He carries my marks.
His unfolding beauty shatters my soul.
