Remembering in Springtime...

It was just about four years ago that I got on a plane from Denver to Cincinnati to spend a week with Master and T. It was spring break for me, and it was approximately three months before my eventual relocation to Cincinnati to live. Until that time, we'd visited for the occasional weekend now and then, but we'd never had extended time to spend together. Too, this trip, I was traveling alone, without my husband. Our spring vacations from our different teaching assignments did not match, and so he was not able to travel with me -- I was on my own.

To say that I was excited and anticipating the time would be a vast understatement. Master and I had gotten into spending long stretches of time on the phone in the late evenings by this time, and the agony of being apart was growing with each passing day. A whole week together seemed an unimaginable luxury.

I know it might seem odd, but I was a terrible innocent as I stepped on that plane. I had no real sense of what it was that I was flying into. I knew the hunger that had grown between us across the miles that separated us. I knew that we would surely indulge in the kind of SM play that, until now, we'd only talked about. I knew that we'd discussed the possibility of a switching, although I surely was not at all certain about the reality of that as an actual fact. I had no inkling at all, at that juncture, of the depth to which He and I would eventually go with that aspect of our relating. I only knew that He quite naturally answered something in me that had long sought a response. And, if I was naive from the SM side of things, I was even more so from the sexual side of things. We'd had so little chance, before this to experiment, to connect, to actually find our way together as a couple sexually. I wondered what we would come to be with one another, given time to explore that part of our relationship. Then, too, I had no idea how all of that would work out between the three of us. We'd talked about the idea of polyamory. We'd agreed to that as path. As a concept, it made sense, but it was all new. Actually doing it, however, was a little daunting. How exactly was I going to walk into the home of my dear friends, and my deepest loves, and simply be as I hoped I would be -- loving but not getting stuck in the patterns of thinking and feeling that I'd been taught all my life. I was breathless, scared, and amazed with the vistas that were open before me... It was a very long plane ride.

That week became, for us, a honeymoon of sorts. Thanks to the wonderful giving heart of T, Master and I loved the week away, played voraciously, walked and talked and explored like the starving lovers that we were. I cooked in T's kitchen each evening, we took lunches to her each day at work, she and I shopped for goodies that I could take back to my kids at school, and about Wednesday, He and I started to mourn the approach of the end of the week. It was an amazing, sensual, hot, fabulous whirl. It laid groundwork for our eventual coming together. It gave us some patterning for our future. It gave us much needed sustenance for the three months that were yet ahead of us before we could truly come together to live as family. It remains as treasured memory of a shining time that will forever be held as a precious beginning. Whenever we get to feeling tired, stressed, pressed to the limit, and bored with the realities of our sometimes oh-so-daily feeling routines, we pull out the remembrance of that fleeting week when we came together for the first time as lovers and dwelt magically together in a gossamer web of innocence and wonderment and pure joyful abandonment.

swan