opaque-scales: Do you have the remotest idea of how fucking good it feels to have you lying on top of me?
The weight of you against my chest, your soft against my hard, your smooth against my hair, feels like the metaphor of my responsibility made flesh. I’m finally supporting you mind and body, and to have it all there, in your beautiful, tight little package, is just about as satisfying as things get.
It’s where you feel most safe. I understand that much. You’re Crusoe on his island, supported by it and kept away from the deadly sea. On my chest you’re away from the world, your feet not touching the lava of the floor, the choppy waters of the bed. You may as well be in a vacuum, cut off from the world. Just me. Me and you.
And I never feel more powerful. More in control. Of you, of me, of the world. And somehow, that manages to get me in a state where I can truly, comfortably relax.
Having you laying on top of me makes me feel more Dominant than just about anything else.