My husband goes away often - weekly in fact. I rarely go away - a few times a year. His being gone is a non-event. He comes home like anyone coming home from work (which he is) - happy to see us, or tired, or frustrated, or ready to start the weekend, or missing me, or whatever. When i come home, it is definitely NOT a non-event.
It seems that when i'm gone - he dreams in kink.
Most recently, the instructions started even before i was on my way home, "Wear a skirt on the plane. If you didn't take one with you - buy one."
And continued at the departure gate, "Take your panties off before you board."
And again as soon as i'd texted that i'd landed, "Take your bra off before you get to arrivals where I'll be waiting."
I was very happy to be home, happy to see him, and looking forward to whatever he had planned. I was in that state of being aroused and a bit anxious and expectant, and listening, but still not deep enough to not have the wondering and the questions and an independent dialogue about it all running in my head at the same time.
Walking to the car, he casually asked about my trip, filled me in on what was going on at home, held my hand innocently.... But he had that smile underneath his smile, the one no one else would recognize, but i certainly do. And i found myself falling further in.
Of course I knew something was up, so the fact that he had parked far, far away from anyone else in the lot was not a surprise. Playing at anything at all like this in public, such as it was, is very much not part of what we do. Half of my brain was happily on it's way to lost in him; the other half was fighting very hard not to blurt out reasons this was a bad idea and how we should just stop and go home.
Once we were in the car, the pretences stopped and he wanted all of my attention. I was getting there but still had a voice in my head running a script that was not part of the program.
The nipple clamps, just strong enough to be tolerable for the 30 min drive home, helped. But they were at that maddening point that they hurt just enough to make me want them to hurt more, to drive out any other thoughts. But they weren't there - they were a tease.
I don't know how he knows, or why it has the effect it does - every time - but it does. He nodded towards the plug and watched me put it in place. I could barely manage to make my hands work properly, i couldn't look up and i couldn't look at him. As soon as it sunk home, i was there, I was beyond there. And i was entirely his.