Shimmer

I wake up in the cocoon of his comforter, the well-washed softness of the sheets caressing my naked body, the heat from my bottom like a warming brick in the bed.

I remember how it started, when I was placed over his lap and he began the slow beat against my bared cheeks; I remember kicking my feet as he increased the heat with the paddle.

And then I remember...intangibles. Everything was at a distance. My body and mind surrendered to him as he took me to El Dorado, the Lost City of Gold. His voice, soothing and faraway, recalled as a kiss to the forehead -- reassuring and kind, as if he wanted to tell me something.


Look at what I can show you. Look where I can take you if you permit me.
Look at the golden magnificence, shining its offering, laid at your feet.
Listen to the thunder; smell the washed air, crisp and impossibly alive with electricity.

Inhale.
Exhale.

Be.

There is no need to measure time, but it feels as though I was gone for hours before I feel his lips press against my nose, his hand cupping my face, his breath tickling my ear and neck.

Prompting me to open my eyes, he whispers for me to see our world as it really is: the dim quiet of his bedroom; the glowing sunlight of early evening fighting through the blinds; and my gold dust-covered King shimmering beside me, my souvenir from El Dorado.