It’s been over for a while.

When we were together, many things happened between us. Most were extreme. Almost all were extremely enjoyable. Occasionally we shared only the banal conversation of longterm companions who are together for some reason other than intellectual compatibility. When I think about him, though, which is less often these days, this is the moment I recall with the most clarity.

There are two beds in the room. We’ve used both for our fucking, and I’ve left wet patches on both, over a number of hours. He hates resting in places where the moisture is cooling beneath us, so we keep moving. He has been relentless. Much of what we have done has been clearly leading to something big, substantial, probably painful, definitely intense. During this last round, he has done things to my body that are beyond what I’ve experienced before, not so much as individual events, but in combination. There is the physical discomfort of being bound and restrained. There is the psychological discomfort of being gagged. There is the ongoing pain of instruments of torture clipped onto various bits of me. There is the non-stop overstimulation of vibrating plastic inserted and wedged in place. And then there is unexpected pain inflicted by his hands, while his cock fills my ass, pounding me into the mattress. There is a final convulsing orgasm that almost sends me hurtling off the side of the bed. Then there is sudden release from my bonds and from my pain.

Now… the moment I remember most when I think of him… the minute I am free, as I am sobbing and coming down from my climax, I fold my body violently against him as he kneels beside me, and I grab onto his thigh, the bit of him I first reach. And he curls down and around me, his arms reaching to encompass me, his hands pulling me onto his lap. His head bends over mine, so that my face is pressed hard into his chest and his neck. He begins to rock me, and whispers soothing words in my ear, telling me how brave and strong I am, and how precious to him. We stay this way, swaying, for an endless time, while my trembling calms and finally ceases, and while my tears that were flowing against the strength of him gradually transform into a tiny smile.

I don’t remember how that evening ended. I am certain that when he remembers it, and I know he does, he thinks of the extreme heights we reached together. For me, it’s all about the recovery.