The Overstimulated Student…
I feel a small smile form on my face as he rounds the corner. He’s taller than I remember, but handsome as always in a fitted three-piece suit. I hesitate for just a moment before walking toward him, taking in his perfectly groomed beard, fresh lineup, subtle waves. We’ve only met once before, but we embrace like old friends - intimate, warm, and comforting.
“It’s good to see you. Come with me,” he says. And, I’m happy to obey.
The small apartment is balmy; almost tropical. The lights are low and moody like a jazz lounge, one blue and one red bulb glowing over the kitchen island. There is a massage table in the middle of the small room flanked by two additional tables laden with toys and accessories organized into neat rows. I try to take it all in, but there are almost too many things to pay attention to at once and propriety dictates that I stay attentive to my host.
He hands me a bottle of water and asks if I’m comfortable as he sits beside me on the small couch. “Yes, Sir,” I assure him and am rewarded with a brief smile. He starts to explain the negotiation process, the importance of our combined comfort and safety, and asks establishing questions to gauge my state of mind. He’s confident and smooth in his delivery - he’s done this plenty of times before. He remembers that I have a consent checklist to share as was recommended by my sensuality coach and gives me permission to bring it to him. For the first time I feel nervous - a student turning in her homework to an accomplished professor hoping for approval.
“I identify as a sub and I’m supposed to be learning to advocate for my needs,” I say by way of excuse.
“This is good. I’ve seen documents like this online before, but this is a good list,” he assures me.
He takes the time to read through each boundary and request, pausing to clarify my concerns around my no’s while making it clear he’s looking forward to fully engaging all of my yes’s. He’s starting to get slightly antsy, he’s ready to get started, but won’t rush this important part of the process.
“I would like to demonstrate the items I’ll be using on you today and show you around. There are a few toys you’ve noted that you’re hesitant to use, but I think you’ll find you like the way I use them. Are you comfortable with me demonstrating those on you now?” he asks.
“Yes, Sir,” I respond quickly and quietly.
“Good. Take my hand.”
The rest of our evening is an ocean of sensations, deep, unrelenting, and awe inspiring. I feel at once overwhelmed and singularly focused on all of the places he touches me. I smell the oils he has anointed me with and the deep scent of my overheating body. I hear the playlist he’s curated in the background and his deep growls in my ear. I feel the warmth of his hands, his oils, and his fire. My body responds to him in ways I didn’t realize it was capable of. He sends my mind out of the room entirely, taking me to a space deeper inside of me than I’ve ever been. I hear unfettered screams of ecstasy coming from somewhere far away and realize those sounds are coming from me. And, just as I start to think this is impossible, that I can’t possibly take any more, he pulls my spent body into his arms allowing me to rest on his solid form as I come back to myself.
I can tell that I'm changed, but in this moment I allow myself to be comforted as my thoughts drift. He’s taken me on a journey and I feel privileged to have seen this place that so many people never get to discover. I’m grateful for his guidance and eager for the next voyage.
