Our Last Two Years

Lord knows I’ve told this story a few times.  Even to a large like-minded group of D/s couples in Vegas last year and on various websites.   And when Curvey tells the story, tears will form in the eye, even the toughest alpha male has difficulty keeping his eyes dry.

May 19th will forever be the most special day of the year for me.   Let me create a picture for you with my meager wordsmithing abilities…

A husband and wife are driving to the airport.  They’ve been married 25 years.  They raised two kids and now the wife was flying across the country to visit the couples’ grandsons.  The last few years had really taken their toll on this marriage.  Empty nest. Demanding jobs.  There was increased bickering turned to full out verbal assaults.  It was a civil war.   No one was winning.

And for the first time in those 25 years, the D-word had finally been tossed out into the middle of the room like a hand grenade with the pin pulled.  It was a rational conversation because each was just so tired of the bullshit.   And yet, neither truly wanted it.   There was still love there somewhere in the deep dark corner of that battlefield.  It was hiding.  It wanted to come out but no one would grab it by its hand and pull it into the light.

So each floundered and searched everywhere from bottles to books to Doctors and medicines and counselors, yet no answers came.

So the couple is headed to the airport   The husband gladly seeing her off, anticipating a long needed rest and some alone time   The wife was looking forward to a change in scenery and the non jundgmental and always unconditional love of grandchildren.   And yet she had been praying about some particular bit of research and decided to share her discovery in one final attempt to find some happiness with a man she never stopped loving

“I want to share something with you,” she said.   The husband was thinking here it is, divorce.  We are finally going to use this trip as a formal separation.

“I’ve been reading things on a Christian women’s site about submission.  I think that I’m a submissive.   Do you understand what that means?”  The husband’s mind was racing.  He had read 50 shades   But sadly, he read it thinking to himself that he was about to be single and was trying to figure out why millions of women were masturbating to this book.

“I think we need to try something different,” she confided.  “I want you to be my Dominant and make the decisions for our family.   I’m so tired.   Do you think you could try that with me?”

The man was always a strong decision maker.  And that was the biggest problem in the marriage.  Both were always trying to wear the pants in the family.  Two cannot both lead.  Only one can drive the bus.

For anyone that has taken the backroad shortcuts to the Houston airport, it is a two lane little road, not even a highway. There are deep ditches on either side of the road, dangerous to any distracted vehicle.  And now factor in just enough rain to loosen up the oil and grime; a slippery curvy road…

The husband is shocked by this sudden twist of the imagined divorce plot.  He really had no idea what a Dominant was but by God, he would find out and instantly agreed wholeheartedly that her suggestion sounded agreeable, trying to remain calm.

When the drowning man is tossed a life ring in a raging sea, he will grab it as if his life depends on it because it truly does.     He will not question who is throwing it nor their motivation.  He simply agrees to the idea of his life spared and will deal with any fallout later.

At this point, the shocked and desperate husband decides to attempt to put his truck into the dangerous and waterfilled  ditch.  Literally he almost lost all control and slid down the embankment.  Yet, once again, luck steadied his hand and he recovered.  (To all Littles out there: No Trucks were injured in the telling of this tale.)

And they talked. And they talked more but the airport was looming.   The driver had slowed down like a teenager trying to extend his date with the prettiest girl in town for a few extra minutes.  Her father would surely be on the porch and the Magic would end.

At the airport, no one was dropped off.   However, the wife and her bags were escorted into the terminal.  The baggage agent joked that the husband just wanted to make sure the wife got on her plane.    Far from it   The drowning man didn’t want to let loose the line that tenuously offered some slight glimmer of hope.

So they sat outside security and talked more over coffee until the flight would most surely be missed.    They kissed deeply and longingly for the first time in what seemed forever.  Tears in both their eyes, she departed for ten long days.

Those ten days we’re truly Heaven-sent.  They were both researching feverishly.   At the end of that time, they reunited at the grandchildrens home.   They had been talking and texting the entire time.  The excitement they both felt led to some rather racy and naughty exchanges.  There was a spark again.  That first night back together, they loved each other in a slow and deeply connected way.  The goal wasn’t to orgasm, although both eventually exploded!  There was no goal.  The ache of the last few years was healing as only two souls truly heal when their bodies unite.

The day the truck almost drove into the ditch was May 19th.   I consider that the day our lives began anew.  That was two years ago   There have been ups and downs.  Most of them have been situations the world has thrown at us, testing our resolve.

And yet, through it all, we maintained our love, our respect, our trust and our communication.   No matter what, there was always love and where there is love, hope will always be its constant companion.  Never lose hope.

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