Release
His cruelest commands were always those that touched her most deeply.
When he had placed the chair in front of the open window, her heart leapt at what he would have her do.
When he sat her down and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, she could feel the heat race to her face just as the sunlight warmed the skin he exposed.
Her head swam as he told her to slip her fingers inside, she tried to remain as composed as possible, hoping what was visible of her above the windowsill would provide some image of normality and restraint.
She knew she was lost as he told her to push deeper and not to hold back, that she would be punished if he felt she was being restrained in any way.
Her head flared back as her orgasm began to build, her gasp loud as he told her to wait for his command.
But her final release came not from inside her, not from anything he asked her to do. It came instead from a phone call.
As she sat there body poised, full breasts alert and magnificent, she heard him dial a number. The name he gave the receptionist sent a shock through her, fear and confusion mixing with her need to come.
And then the reality dawned on her, why he had chosen this old run down hotel on the edge of the business district. She knew without looking up what she would see if she glanced across the road.
But despite that, she remained in place, she was his and would do as he wanted. He told her to begin again, the play and caress and not to stop until she came.
And as she plunged her fingers inside her already dripping hot core, she heard him speak again but not to her.
Her only recollection of those final moments was his quiet clear direction to her ex-husband to turn and look across the road.
To watch the woman he had thought cold and listless, the woman he had belittled for so long, abandoned to a life of drudgery and servitude.
To watch that same woman roar with passion, to watch her body shake with desire. To watch her shudder in a release he had neglected to create in 20 years of marriage.
And then he is beside her, one hand in her hair, one around her throat and his words in her ear. She is fully exposed, to him, to the eyes looking in across the window. And with that she finds the release she has waited for all her life.
Released from herself, her history, who she had become. There is no pretence here, not with him, no requirement to be anything other than who she really always was.
And she finally lets go.
Words by The Dirty Romantic
