his chest

My body wakes me from my slumber earlier than my alarm would.  I groan, knowing the alarm will sound soon.  Already, I grow restless and hate that my work day begins once more. Too soon.

 I hear Sylvanus stir. I need comfort. I reach my hand out and lay it on his chest. Just touching his chest with my fingertips brings me great comfort. Instantly my body calms. It has so much more meaning now.

Yesterday, during our post coital bliss, I ran my fingertips lovingly over his chest. He moans and sighs and tells me, “I love it when you touch my chest like that. It makes me feel like a strong man. Like I am your protector and no harm can come to you.” 

I never knew this and suddenly running my fingertips lazily over his chest holds so much more meaning for me. 

It holds so much more comfort and protection. It calms me, just like when he runs his fingers along the back of my neck. I feel loved and protected. Funny how that works… I am touching him, and that’s how I feel loved and cherished. I find myself wanting to be his submissive more and more in so many more ways than we have been. When he tells me I am to do what he asks, whether it be take a bath while he washes me, or take the lashes from his belt, I feel loved and more in place. I feel peace. 

This morning, I watched his chest muscles bulge and move as he stroked himself, lying there on the bed. I felt the peace and comfort that is him in my heart.  I am finding my place… my peace.