I didn’t expect it to happen, but it did. The disquiet appeared out of nowhere, causing me to fidget uncomfortably in my seat. My eyes were focused on the silent cell phone resting on my lap. I picked it up, looked at the blank screen and put it down again. I’d been away from him for less than an hour and would be with him again in no more than five, but the need to hear his voice suddenly gripped my insides, twisting painfully as anxiety began to give way to panic. I was 30,000 feet in the air, and I was crashing.
‘Dropping’ means different things for different people. Some submissives experience a drop for a day or two after the euphoria of subspace dissipates. And then there are some Tops, Doms and Dommes who feel the effects of ‘Top-drop’ after a particularly powerful scene. But for me, ‘dropping’ means emotional vulnerability from disengagement, difficulty reacclimating back into the normalcy of everyday life, and exhaustion. In other words, I’m a fucking wreck.
Our time together is special, but we rarely have more than a night, sometimes two. This trip was different. Mr. Kink was attending a conference out of state and invited me to go with him. This meant we had unlimited time together for three nights and four days. The closeness and intimacy we shared ran deep, and I had the opportunity to see a side of him that is rarely visible to me.
I witnessed the transformation from kinkster to astute businessman as he introduced me to business associates and industry acquaintances. I shook hands and smiled, and I listened attentively from the front of the meeting hall as he gave his presentation. I confess that the sight of him on stage talking shop and making people laugh was incredibly sexy. The oohs and ahs that floated through the rows behind me made my juices flow and watching attendees crowd around him, hoping for a moment of his time was the ultimate mindfuck. I wanted to run back to the hotel, rip the business casual attire from his body and reward him properly. But I knew that business came first, because according to him, I’m the best girlfriend ever.
We seemed like an average couple on the outside as we attended meetings and business dinners, never giving any indication Mr. K was wearing my panties underneath his jeans and turtleneck sweater. The high of his willingness to please me aside, I wanted thoughts of what I would do to him later that night to be in the background, monopolizing his concentration over dinner and drinks. I wanted the anticipation to build and his mouth to salivate as he visualized himself gagging on my strap-on as I pinned him to the headboard. I wanted him to fight the urge to say, “Please, Mistress” as he conjured up the image of him on his knees, his brow knitting as I pushed the head of the plug into his tight ass. I needed him to imagine my hands gripping his hips as I thrust into him, hard and deep.
It wasn’t all business functions and exhibit halls, though. It was also another failed attempt to pee on him and more jokes about stage fright. Who would have guessed that me of all people would have a shy bladder? I am happy to report I can pee in front of him now. That’s a start, right? But for the time being, it seems our happy medium is me peeing in the bathroom and him licking me clean. Not exactly the same, but it works for now.
Last weekend was everything we expected and then some. We set out to mix business with pleasure and it was a wild success. Mr. K even remarked it was a little scary how easily I fit into his life. He also said it’s hard to separate without the security of knowing when we’ll be together again and he understands the challenges of reacclimation. It sucks hot, sweaty balls, but I’ve learned how to manage.
Later that night, though, I caught our reflection in the mirror as I sat on his face, his hands gripping my waist as if he couldn’t get enough of me. The sounds of his pleasure coupled with mine as he satiated himself with my body drowned out all of the anxieties I’d struggled with earlier in the day. They had disappeared to nothingness. And somehow I knew if they attempted to make themselves known again, the memory of that moment would overpower them and I would come out of it the way I always do. On top.
drowned out all of the anxieties I’d struggled with earlier in the day. They had disappeared to nothingness. And somehow I knew if they attempted to make themselves known again, the memory of that moment would overpower them and I would come out of it the way I always do. On top.”
I hope this is always the case for you. Just be prepared that sometimes, it might not be. Hope you talked to him about what you were feeling. Reassurance from your partner when you’re dropping can be a powerful antidote to the anxiety and blues.
I’ve bottomed out pretty hard in the past. It’s so odd that sometimes I drop and sometimes I don’t. There seems to be no rhyme or reason. It jumps up out of nowhere and bitch slaps me.
We spent some time talking about it our last night together and to be honest, I think putting it out there is the reason I was fine afterward. Hearing him say he understands what I go through goes a long way.