Journal 64
Dominique 34
Fencing coach
- Life
- A rented room near the salle. The piste stays work until the door locks.
- Temper
- Disciplined and clear. She does not blur the job into the man she dates.
Kinks
- Two adult coaches, the door locked, weapons racked
- A plain white jacket with no lettering
- She directs him, and he can put it down
I coach adults. That is the job and the boundary. I am thirty-four, the salle is for people old enough to sign their own waivers, and none of them are invited into my bed. Alain is thirty-nine and he is the other coach. We date. We lock the door when the last adult student has gone, and what happens after that is two people who teach for a living choosing something else. I like the jacket, plain white, nothing written on it, the ritual of it, and I like taking it off when I decide. I like telling him what to do and hearing him agree because he wants to, not because I grade him. The weapons stay on the rack. The mask stays off once we are kissing, so I can see his face and he can see mine. If either of us needs to end it we say halt, and the bout is over, full stop, no extra touch. Control, for me, is only interesting when he can put it down.
The blog
2 entries, newest first.
The piste
The piste was empty and the door was locked. I sat on the bench in the jacket unzipped over a black shirt, mask beside me, hair stuck to my neck. Alain stood where I pointed, thirty-nine and patient, another coach with his own keys. He is not a student. He has never been my student. He asked me what I wanted. I wanted his mouth on my cunt and then…
Read full postThe jacket
The piste was empty. Adults only in my salle, and even they had gone home. Weapons racked. I did not want a blade anywhere near the next hour. I stood in the plain white jacket, no lettering, no patch with a word on it, mask under my arm, and I waited for Alain. He is the other coach. He is not my student. He has never been my student. I…
Read full post