I was sitting on the patio crying when I heard him approach.
“Great”, I thought. “I’m sure I look fabulous at the moment.” Some women look beautiful when they cry. I just look sad and red-faced.
He sat down beside me and took my hand. He said nothing, just held my hand. Funny, but that made me cry harder. I guess maybe I’d been holding more inside the last few months than I realized.
When the tears finally stopped falling he asked, “Want to tell me about it?”
I shook my head and he stood. “Right. No talking. I would guess it’s time to make dinner.” At my nod, he stood, held open the door, and continued. “Lead the way. May I help?”
Just like that. No more questions, not even about the things we talked about this past week. His willingness to let me lead always surprises me. I don’t really expect that from a friend, but I certainly won’t knock it. Besides – a man working away in the kitchen – how could I say no to that?
He actually seemed to know his away around in a kitchen. I love it when men can cook. There’s something really sexy about watching them and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s knowing they’re quietly confident in their masculinity.
After dinner was ready he took off his apron, touched my hand for a moment, then turned to leave.
“Don’t go. Stay and have dinner,” I urged.
He smiled. “I can’t.”
“You just came in to help and then leave?” My puzzled look coaxed an even bigger smile.
“I just stopped by to drop off the book you loaned me. I stayed longer than I’d planned because you seemed to need cheering up. That’s not the only reason I wanted to help you, though. I’m trying to understand more about the feelings you say some men have when doing something unselfish to please a woman they admire.”
I smiled back. “I’m sure you do things for women all the time.”
“True, but I don’t think we’re talking about the kind of feelings, are we?”
“No, I don’t suppose we are. And… do you have a little bit more insight into what we’ve been talking about?”
He paused. “Do you really want me to answer that?” At my nod, he continued. “Let me put it like this. Cooking and cleaning up the kitchen never felt like this before.”
I couldn’t help myself. I had to smile. “That’s a good boy.”
He flashed another smile and walked out the door.
No related posts.
Some women look beautiful when they cry. I just look sad and red-faced.
If it makes you feel any better, we just say that. You all look red, puffy-faced – and sad – when you cry.
While we’re on it, though, I have long suspected that Mrs. Edge married me because I could cook better than she could.
I think I’m going to start a cooking school for men in which the uniform is apron-only. I wonder how many would sign up for lessons? :)
I know I would sign up!
Thank you for sharing from the beginning about this journey of discovery. I hope someday David will write from his perspective or at least tell you more about how he feels so that you can write about it.
Lady Julia,
I’ll sit with you as you cry,
and hold you as you sigh,
as so be it day, or night,
then I’ll whisper :
It’ll be okay, My Lady.
It’ll be okay.
And I’ll hold you as cry,
and kneel as you sigh,
and then, —I’d cry with you.
respectfully,
willie
TQE, I’ll add your name to the list ;)
I’m not sure what I plan with regard to continuing to share the story about my friendship with David. If he would like to post some of his thoughts, I would welcome that.
That said, I have decided to resurrect a project that I had a few years ago – “Submissives’ Thoughts”. It was an ongoing series of posts written by submissive men who didn’t personally have blogs but who wanted to share their feelings about a variety of submissive issues. I think you will all enjoy this as I know I enjoy reading the things they write to me privately.
Should anyone reading this be interested in “Guest Blogging” here, I am certainly open to hearing from you.
Willie, how lovely. Thank you.
Count me in for the cooking school.