Wednesday, July 27 was a special morning.
The evening before had been very intense with some rope play, caning and flogging. Princess does enjoy the heavy flogger I bought a few weeks ago.
I gave the love of my life quite a few orgasms. Then we went to bed and we made love. I fucked Princess hard, long and rough.
We slept well.
Then came Wednesday, July 27 and a special morning.
It was finally Tax Freedom Day in Belgium. It was also Princesses’ last free Wednesday morning for at least a month. Due to new laws she had to apply again for her parental leave and if all goes well it will be granted, again, starting September.
We made love. Those whom follow this blog know that I can almost fuck forever as it has become very difficult for me to orgasm/ejaculate while making love. To be honest I don’t care anymore and I prefer it this way. Fucking and fucking for ages, manipulating Princess, is much more pleasant than my orgasm. Well, to be honest, I wish it did happen once in the blue moon. The physical and emotional experience is almost non-existent when masturbating.
So we started making love and then I felt it in my loins, lower belly, and balls. A warm glow started pleasantly increasing, taking over the lower part of my body.
Princess came, thanking me for her zillionth orgasm.
Focus Franco, I thought and I kept on moving.
Princess came again.
Then it came and an avalanche of emotions devastated my body and mind. Cold warps flowed back and forth over my back while I orgasmed.
For a millisecond it felt as if I was dying, as if I was leaving my body. Oh boy it felt so good. Then an emotional wave engulfed me and I could not help myself but cried as I buried my face in Princesses’ hair.
I had forgotten how good an orgasm could feel as it was the first time this year that I did come this way. Strange though that jerking off or orgasming through intercourse feel so differently.
Past Saturday Princess and I went to another dungeon called “Our Place” but then in French. It was our first visit.
We had heard different opinions about PDN, some positive, some negative so we finally decided to check it out.
PDN is in a luxurious villa surrounded by a wall and a royal looking entrance. There is also a parking on the grounds. In fact, it is a sumptuous and classy rendezvous hotel.
The owners decided to add a BDSM facility in a huge tent and it occupies about 150 sq. meters in the garden behind the villa.
The entrance is marked private and the interior of the villa, then entrance hall and the bar, filled with dark, sculptured wood, mirrors and dark red leather. It is so over the top, so kitsch it has become almost art.
Someone told me the villa originally used to be a champagne bar.
We were welcomed warmly and our names were checked on the guest list. They want to keep a low profile and the BDSM facility is only listed on Fetlife.
The showed us around. I must say I was rather skeptical about the idea of a dungeon in a huge tent but I was pleasantly surprised. There were quite some toys like a few Saint Andrew’s Crosses, two gynaecology chairs, a swing, 4 hoists (one had a Shibari ring) and other BDSM furniture.
The room was spacious and there were sitting chairs and so on. Candles and a plastic roll to cut off sheets to protect the floor and toys was freely available.
We felt the people sitting at the bar were more socially accessible than in Antwerp. It felt like a gathering of club members all talking cheerfully and passionate about the lifestyle.
The atmosphere in the bar was less kinky than in Antwerp but then again, it was our first time at PDN.
We had drinks and then went to the tent to play. There was room enough as it was seemingly a low evening. I watched two couples doing some intensive candle play and then concentrated on Princess.
Later on a couple, two young girls, played using a gym bok. Later on the sat on the bed, the sub lying down under a cover while her Owner read from a book to her. Nice and touching.
So we played, Princess and I.
I started slowly, caressing her with my leather gloves, then used a pin wheel on her shoulder blades followed by some biting. Then I switched to some intense spanking and flogging building everything up in a slow pace, intensifying the blows. Then she came, my Princess and I held her in my arms and we sat down on a comfortable sofa while I held her close to me. This would not be possible in the Antwerp Fetish Cafe except for in the noisy bar, not ideal to take care of somebody in subspace.
We then went to the bar and later on we chatted with a guy we had met previously in Antwerp. He told us much of this place existed through volunteers.
It was fun at PDN, I liked the play room very much. It has not the character of an old cellar like the Dungeon in Antwerp but it is spacious, well equipped and not that far from where we live.
The was only one downside and for me an important one. The bar is a private part of the house so not a regular bar meaning people can smoke. And boy they did and that I did not like. When we came home our hair and clothes smelled and I hate that.
I am sure Princess and I will be regular guests of PDN. And of course we are still curious to discover other places to play.
We had a swell evening, Princess and I and we felt very welcome and at easy with our peers.
Everything is fine over here. Princess and I are doing well.
Lately most of our Saturday and Tuesday evenings have been taken by other events or people. This means we haven’t been able to play much let alone go to the Club or discover new BDSM places.
We are though, looking for a day collar for Princess.
This means there has been little to write about and posting just for the sake of posting, well, it ain’t my style.
We visited Princesses’ family on two birthday occasions and to my great surprise her kids, except for Ar, were also present although they came with a different car. Except for The Boy they did as if I wasn’t there but hey, it is a start.
I have been proofreading a novel and it was the second time I did this. It is about finding typos and incoherent data.
For some reason I am good at it.
While people look at a bush in a garden and see the bush I immediately spot a tiny crab spider sitting on a leaf. I tend to notice anomalies very quickly. I found it awesome how a type just jumped at me even before I read the sentence.
I’ve also been working on my photography blog. Having made the choice to shoot on film makes my photography a craft and thus time-consuming. Developing, scanning and digital darkroom takes up quite some of my time.
In two weeks I’m following a workshop on street photography. I subscribed for this about 9 months ago and still don’t know why. In fact I feel awkward around people and feel that pushing a camera in their face is an intrusion of their personal space.
Yet I have been talking with Princess about a project about social documentary photography. Belgium (and Europa) has been inundated by refugees. That could be an angle but I am not really interested because it is way to easy. I would prefer to make a documentary about the poor or the underprivileged natives as I believe it is a forgotten problem.
A few days ago I saw a can of tuna in Stella’s apartment. It was white with blue lettering and clearly relief goods from Europe. I remember being struck as I imagined this stuff in a war zone, in a refugee camp but not in my country.
Then there was my The Kinky Cafe project. It did not flower and I shut it down a few months later.
Now The Kinky Cafe is officially dead. Today I purchased a new domain name for that account and I am starting a new personal photography project.
Tomorrow, Saturday 9, Princess and I are talking her sister for dinner, a late birthday present. We are going to an excellent Indian restaurant not far from Brussels.
So many mornings waking up next to Princess lay behind me already. I pray each and every day that I still have a zillion more mornings like these.
Feeling Princesses’ warmth, touching her soft skin. Her blonde hair exploding in golden fire, lit by an early morning sun.
Looking at Princess in awe, while she sleeps, or looks back at me, drowsy and smiling. Whispering a good morning just before our lips meet so our tongues can dance.
The kisses and the promises of intense lovemaking or a good and rough fuck.
I have written about these moments but only a few days ago I read a short story by Rachel de Vine and it touched me because it says almost exactly what I feel and think on these lazy mornings. She says it so much better than I ever could.
Rachel writes very fine erotica and I am a huge fan. Please visit her blog/personal web space by clicking HERE.
To the Stars and Back – Erotic fiction
by Rachel de Vine
He looked down at the woman sleeping beside him. Knees drawn up, arms tucked around her body, she lay almost in a foetal position, as though trying to protect herself from something. She must be dreaming, he thought, as she whimpered lightly in her sleep. Perhaps she was recalling the events of the previous evening. But were the whimpers from the echo of the pleasure or the pain? He smiled, reliving the memory of her moans and the way she had arched her back and begged him for more as he had tormented her with his tongue. For a few seconds the fleeting memories renewed the pleasure in his groin, before his thoughts once more returned to the present and to the woman at his side.
She’s so beautiful; she almost takes my breath away.
She had thrown off the sheet, the only bedcovering on this hot, steamy night, her naked body reflecting the light from the moon, hanging full and ripe in the night sky. Her body was slight, but curved in all the right places, with breasts that were just the right size for him to take one completely in each hand, squeezing in the way that he tested the ripeness of the fruit he bought at the market. Full of desire, he let his eyes slide over her velvet-smooth skin, unblemished except for the faint markings he had left on her breasts and wrists; markings like a signature that reminded him that he was hers.
He could take her now in her sleep, awakening her with his stiff cock that was already twitching at the thought, but decided to wait. Let her sleep a little longer. They had played hard the night before and he knew that he had exhausted her with his unquenchable need for her body. He must try and pace himself, he thought wryly, even as he knew that there was something about her expressive eyes, her slow, gentle smile and her alluring body that made it almost impossible to resist the primitive urge that welled up from deep within him. That urge made him want to take her, to possess her, to tease her, to control her, to show her the beauty in the pain that he inflicted and the joy and pleasure that followed as they reached the top of the mountain together, leaping off to soar into that place in the universe where great stars collide and explode.
I haven’t been writing much for this blog lately. Princess and I still enjoy playing, being together, the D/s and especially the BDSM.
How many posts can I write about a good fuck, an intense spanking, a zillionth orgasm before repeating myself?
Sure, every time we play, Princess and I, it is a different experience for us. Yet not necessarily one that is interesting enough to write about.
I believe Princess and I excel in the way we talk and have an open and honest communication. I value that very much. Once in a while though being truthful can lead to a certain degree of disappointment. This is not a bad thing; it simply indicates you are not in perfect phase with the other person. Talking about it puts everything back in perspective.
Decades ago, it feels like another life, I somewhat dabbled with the world of swingers and, as a single man, had a couple of experiences. They were with a couple who occasionally invited a few men at their home to enjoy the wife. More than the fucking itself I enjoyed watching the others do their thing. The sexual freedom, sex in “public”, the hotness of swapping were also aspects that at that time I found very appealing.
At that time, I wished for a girlfriend that was also into swinging and the idea of visiting a swinger’s club with her gave me an instant boner.
It never happened though, not the girlfriend, not the clubs.
My life then went in another direction and I got married. It was (sexually) very dull and soon I sank in an almost constant state of depression. The birth of my two daughters the only lights in those dark years. After recovering from a burnout my life started to take form again. It would take another 5 years before I finally found the strength to break free from the dungeons of my marriage.
When I broke the chains I also killed the dark beast of depression that had been lurking in my head for almost two decades.
I lived alone for some time, had a relation and then finally met Princess. The path that brought me to Princess had been a hard one, but it was more than worth it.
Over the years my short-lived swinging “experience” faded to a point I did not want to pick up the remainders.
I had moved on and embraced, with Princess, the BDSM part of our sexuality.
The only memory that remained unspoiled and still extremely strong was the image of that woman being fucked by her hubby and the other visitor. The thought still sends hot and tantalising shivers through my body.
Countless are the fantasies I had where Princess was under my control in the presence of another man, also under my control. I imagined a thousand scenarios, one even hotter than the other.
I never told any of them to Princess.
Somewhere in the last months of last year our friends, K. & J., contacted us to see if we were open for a woman/woman scenario. Princess is not even bi-curious but the idea kind of tickled her fancy.
Princess and I did our homework and talked about it, what it would mean. About the impact on our relation.
About limits. I somewhat surprised Princess when I told her that for me, in a woman/woman situation, she was free to explore as much as she wanted and the limits only set by her curiosity.
A few days later I came clean with Princess and told her I would not say no to a BDSM based scenario with an extra man albeit with hard limits like 100% safe sex. I guess she was flabbergasted by what I told her but I felt great as I finally was able to talk about my most well guarded desires and fantasies. I felt relieved and even closer to Princess.
I also told Princess that if it where my call I would prefer a man/Princess scenario over a woman/Princess scene.
Princess and I looked forward to the w/w moment very much. Sir K. and I met and discussed a scenario and then all was set.
Unfortunately, J. had an accident a week before the event so it was called off. J. is still revalidating but getting there.
I am still not sure but I think Princess was somewhat relieved we didn’t go trough with it.
It did not keep me from fantasising about what became “The Stranger”. In short I would take Princess to a hotel room or something. Before entering the room, she would be blindfolded and we would play. Princess would be unaware of his presence until the right moment where he would touch her and so forth.
Over the months I build this scenario based on Princess’s reactions on the dirty talk I often use when we fuck.
We talked about this scenario on other occasions and Princess told me she would be uneasy and nervous but liked the idea exploring her sexuality even deeper. Princess agreed when I said I was sure it would even bring us closer and deepen our relation.
A few weeks ago Sir K. told us J. was doing well and they were looking forward to a new attempt.
Recently I got an invitation for a Spring Party based on the tales of Boccaccio’s the Decameron. I talked about it and told Princess I was pretty sure it was not a BDSM party but a swinger’s party. I did not want to waste money on buying a dark costume or renting a tux for the occasion. On the other hand, I wanted to go, finally witness a swinger’s party and I told Princess I would be open for more if the situation would be favorable for a variation on my “The Stranger” scenario.
As a matter of a fact I had already started setting up a hot and thrilling BDSM variation of “The Stranger” scenario, working on an add ensuring me to find a perfect dick.
A few days ago we talked again about the party on the phone. It is a whole different way of communicating and it has its place depending on the subject being discussed.
We talked about the party and about expanding our sexuality. I told her I preferred by far ‘The Stranger’ of woman/woman scenario over a visit to a swinger’s party.
Then Princess told me again she felt no need for such ventures and was quite happy with how things are. The occasional visit to the club, the playing at home, maybe finding another BDSM club.
We talked some more, looked at it from different angles and it became very clear to me Princess indeed felt no need to explore that part of our sexuality.
I respect her point of view and I am happy she came clear on this after giving me the wrong signals (or was it me interpreting them the wrong way?) I would hate myself forever if Princess did things more to please me than for her own pleasure.
Princess was honest yet I feel slightly disappointed but I am sure that will fade soon.
Here are a few images I took after a very intense scene at our place. It was one of the first times I used only the cane and a few warming up slaps with my hand. The second is biting.
It finally happened. The private rope tuition I had organized for Princess’s birthday more than a month ago. It had been deferred because the teacher had sawed in his hand. He is better now but it will take almost another year before he knows if he his thumb will become sensitive again.
They arrived late and as a matter of a fact they phoned us because they where unable to get where I live. It is not the at the end of the world or a deserted colony on the moon but there are so many road works going on. They told me where the were and Princess and I jumped in the car and led them to our place.
We chitchatted for a while and then dove into the workshop. It was intense and the guy is simply a great tutor.
We did a takate-kote but a variation of the one I know and it is more beautiful and doing this tie I learned a few new ways of tying and laying knots.
After that there was a hip harness.
He did the ties on his girlfriend and I mimicked his movements on Princess who simply enjoyed herself.
I had booked him for 4 hours but after 2 I started for feel a little dizzy with all the information and trust me, doing this is very intense and wearing.
Then they left and I did the new version of the takate-kote (chest harness) and then Princess and I felt very exhausted.
We went to bed, I fucked her but not for long as getting both some sleep seemed a better option.
Stella is not doing well and before our visitor’s came Stella phoned her mother and that made Princess a little preoccupied.
We slept well. Princess and I always do when we share the same bed.
* * *
When we woke up it was still early. I fucked Princess as hard as I could and we made love for almost 2 hours before she begged for mercy.
The she grabbed her iPhone. There were more than 60 text messages waiting to be read. All of them by Stella and it started at about 03:00.
Princess read them aloud so I could follow. I am not going into any details but I can say it was written while Stella was suffering from an intense psychosis.
I can’t help it but while Princess was reading my mind started dwelling and H.P. Lovecraft and the less know Clark Ashton Smith. I discovered the latter through a small bookstore in Ludlow, England, while I was staying with an aunt.
Stella’s shift in reality is somewhat frightening and I guess that is horror too. There is one slight difference though. Stella’s horror is not something she imagines and writes down. It is what her world is when it is not regulated with medication.
So I dropped off a concerned Princess at her place. Every door was locked and I noticed a slight panic in Princess’s voice when she yelled “Stella” while knocking on the door.
Finally, there was some movement I then I left, before Stella could open the door. I knew it would be okay but hard for Princess.
Stella has an issue with trust/men and when she is suffering from psychosis it is even worse.
Sure enough, later on today, Princess phoned me, all emotional. It turned out Stella had not been taking her meds for a day or two. That explained a lot.
I am writing and it is dark outside, half-moon and 20:11. And even later when ready to post this.
I’m writing this while scanning a bunch of negatives. I am also chatting, something I don’t do very often. I was asked by a FB friend of me, a Dom, if I was open for mentoring a girl he had met in a BDSM-group.
There was a language problem though and I told him I would love to if she was okay with it. She was. And then I told Princess about it.
So now I am a mentor for a girl who loves BDSM but suffers from OCD.
We don’t ‘talk’ much anymore, but from what she tells me I made a difference. I am helping/guiding someone and that makes me feel so good.
This is an excerpt but you can read the whole article HERE.
Takeaway:Real dominants don’t all wear three-piece suits or leather. They don’t throw out orders to total strangers. But they have many traits in common – and none of them are sexual or about the clothes they wear.
Contrary to what the erotica burning up e-readers around the world will tell you, not all Dominants wear three-piece suits, own multi-billion dollar corporations, or turn their secretaries into their submissives from the first interview. Books like that are fun to read and certainly get me all steamed up, but trying to find a Dominant that fits that mold is nearly impossible.
Dominant people, because they can be male or female, cis or trans, come in every shape, size, color, sexual preference, income bracket, education level and career. There is no perfect picture of a Dominant. The men don’t all wear suits. The women don’t always wear leather or latex. Many Dominants I know are typically found in jeans and t-shirts.
So, what does a “real” Dominant look like? In my experience – as someone who loves a Dominant and is friends with others – they all have very similar traits. But here’s the surprising thing: Not one of those traits is physical.
Common Traits of a Real Dominants
A good Dominant doesn’t rush into giving you commands from the moment you meet. If they do, it’s likely a test. Master M, a friend of mine and Domme (yes, she’s female and yes, she uses the title “Master”), has said many times that if she’s giving a new potential submissive an order, it’s to see if they have a backbone and will stand up to her. Dominants are in no rush to have you bow and kneel before them. They want to get to know you as a person first. (Learn more in 5 Ways to Spot a Good Dominant.)
The best Dominants do what they say they’re going to do. They’re consistent in thought, speech and action. You know where you stand with them. The reality is that you might not always like what you hear, but you know you’re being told the truth as they see it or they’re doing what they think is best.
This is not about a people’s liberation organization or a political party.
It is what we, Princess and I, enjoy doing.
Pain, Love and Passion.
Princess and I are still growing and the way we play has changed over the course of the last few months. Mind you, I use the same ingredients, but the way I cook is different.
More than before Dominance has now an important part in the way I play with Princess. It makes our scenes more intense and Princesses’ body language, her response to my Dominance, both unmistakable passionate and very submissive.
I think this is why lately we get some very positive reactions in the Dungeon. I don’t just spank Princess or tie her or whatever it is I do. I think of it as a cat and mouse game. I take my time, observe, give pain, observe, give love, pleasure and Princess, my love, reacts in a way I cannot describe except that her emotions are pure.
What most Dominants do in the Dungeon is spank and that is it. I rarely see the interaction I have with Princess. They could as well be spanking a love doll.
I do not want to brag but we, Princess and I, give a genuine show, more than those whom choose to spank for the pleasure of spanking. Don’t get me wrong, I do not look down on these people. Hell, we live in an apartment too and noise travels far. It can be liberating to go for harsh impact plat knowing you are not disturbing anyone. Having the cops knocking on the door.
At home there are the ropes, the Shibari ring and a 3 anchor points I made in the walls surrounding the play space. One overhead, for the arms, and two for spreading Princesses’ legs.
So I can tie Princess in several ways. I can do floor suspension or full suspension or have her stand up, hands tied to a horizontal bamboo bar. Have her lying down and spread open, ready for use.
The cane has become my tool of preference when it comes to pain. I also use wooden clothes pins and they also deliver very intense local pain stimuli. Candle wax is something that does wonders too.
I am still amazed when I make Princess orgasm with only pain.
When I Dominate Princess sexually I feel so complete, so one with my love.
Once in a blue moon I flip and go berserk, turn into a raving madman. When it happens it is during a phone call with Princess. Something suddenly ignites me and there I go, in a long monologue where I say dreadful things I don’t mean. This can go on for as long a 2, 3 hours. Afterwards we both feel bad, exhausted and I feel anxious, afraid and insecure.
It is always about my anger about Princesses’ kids’ rejection and how I (think) see this having an impact on our relationship in the future. Will it always be if I show up they are not? What about situations like a baptism or a house-warming party… will it always be like “please mom, we don’t want him at your side”.
When will we be able to live together with Princess? What if one of them, after graduating, decides to stay home at Hotel Mama?
I am aware, deep down, that these are irrational thoughts but when I go off, fuck rational, emotional takes over completely.
I believe I have this somewhat under control. Unfortunately, when my negative lift-off occurs, rare lately, my emotions are more intense and I damage myself and Princess and our relation, over the phone.
Princess is not to blame but I have been overthinking or she says something that triggers something deep in me and bam, there we go.
We had such a quarrel a few weeks ago and the next day, at work, I experienced an extreme stress pike pushing my blood pressure way up and my heartbeat trough the roof.
Late that afternoon I saw my doctor and he carefully proposed a therapist. I have nothing against therapy and I don’t look down on people who can’t live without. When we need help we need it. Some stuff cannot be tackled without a professional.
I had my intake session two weeks ago. The lady thought I needed to reassess my relationship. Maybe this was not meant to be. She was also astonished by the way I care for Princess, for the people I am close with. How nurturing is almost a second nature.
I told her I needed tools to fight the stimuli that ignite me. I was not interested in hearing I needed to step away because that was and is NOT and option. Princess and I are made for each other.
It was interesting but when, this afternoon, I drove to my 2nd appointment I was thinking this would be the last one. She makes sense, she is in her seventies and wise. But I did not feel this was going somewhere.
The session was surprisingly intense and very confronting.
When my father died, I was 13, my mother told me I was the be the man of the house. There lies the origin of my nurturing nature. The fact that I, a boy, was not led into manhood (by my father) and the simple fact he left must have been for me something like being rejected.
Being rejected for whom I was happened before already, when I was seven, eight. We lived in a part of Brussels that was, in the late sixties, extremist and guided by a French-speaking major. The Flemish speaking people were seen as a minority not worth time and effort. Sometimes my mother would ask me to go to a store and get some stuff.
I do remember being verbally abused in some stores because at that time I did not speak French. Flemish speaking people, even kids, were considered less than nothing. My therapist thinks this is one of the things that make that I cannot stand intolerance.
That combination, rejection and intolerance has always been a trigger that makes me feel bad. And while the therapist was talking I could only nod as I suddenly understood many of my reactions to events.
I do understand why Princesses’ kids do not want me in their life. I should not be there in the first place. Their father should.
I am a constant reminder of their loss. It is not about me, it is about them and their lost. Grief. Anger.
But for me being rejected is an extremely important trigger.
So when my hour was over we checked our agenda’s and made two new appointments. I find it marvelous looking through a window to my inner self, even knowing it isn’t totally accurate.
I am learning about myself and that is something I value.
Yesterday, while updating the software for my film scanners, I picked randomly a few slides in order to test-drive my Epson V700. Slides my father made, over half a century ago.
They had turned magenta, typical for Agfa slide film. The Kodak slides and other types of Afga film have somewhat kept their colors.
By posting this image I want to honor my parents who gave me the precious gift of life. They where the foundation of whom I am today. The loved each other deeply with devotion and love. No drama, no bad words, just love and caring.
Not for the first time I wonder if my father was a Gentleman Dom and my mother a lovely submissive. I’ll never know.
The first 13 years of my life where magical and I have so many great childhood memories. Then my father passed away and life suddenly became a struggle, at that time mostly for my mother.
My mother was devastated, as if something had been ripped out of her body. She was so lost and she never even looked at another man.
My mother did her best for us, my sister and me, but the enchanted times had vanished. Forever I thought.
My mother passed away 10 years ago. I miss my mother but I do miss my father the most. Of course I am aware that the memories he still lives in have been polished by the steady flow of time.
There is a mental exercise that I sometimes make. Futile and stupid of course as it is an impossibility. But what if a gorgeous and sexy fairy would offer me 10′ with one of my parents?
Ah, the dream and an easy choice. I would without any shadow of a doubt choose for 10 minutes with him. My father.
No, I do not feel less for my mother, it is the way it is.
Indeed, there have been so many moments in my life that I was desperate because I could not find what I had lost when my father died.
I did not find it in the short of long relations. Certainly not in my marriage. My daughters came close but not close enough.
Deep in my heart though, I knew I would recognize it when it would ultimately show up. I knew that moment would come.
On the evening of September, 6th, 2011 it finally happened when I met Princess. She turned my world, my life and my heart upside down.
On this windy Sunday evening I now understand what it is I lost when my father died.
Yes, with him my childhood evaporated, true. And unhappy decades would follow.
Looking at this image yesterday and holding Princess in my arms this morning, I suddenly understood what I have been really looking for all these decades. And it was not what I had expected.
It is the deep, trusting, loving and absolute connection my father and mother had that I have been searching for.
I found it, over 4 years ago, with Princess and it is still growing and intensifying.
Princess and I have that extremely deep connection that will survive eternity.
Thank you, Princess, for being in my life, for being with me.