When Christen arrived from China almost three years ago, her box arrived midweek. I had already booked a hotel room for the weekend, but first we had to get through several days at White Rose Cottage. Wonderful things happened in that short span of time, but because of the proximity of my parents there was a lot of anxiety on my part, too. It wasn’t until I spirited her away to the hotel, closing the door and sealing the two of us into a completely private world, that I was able to relax and really begin to get to know her. I’ve wanted to bring her back to that hotel for years, and – now that I’m no longer spending half my monthly income on an apartment I don’t even live in – I’m finally able to afford it.
Just like our first visit, the only way to the elevator was to wheel her between the two lower-level party rooms. Both were in full swing, with people absolutely everywhere, and disguising a small person on a luggage cart is tricky. On this trip my technique was to lie her on her side, head bent towards her chest and legs drawn up and bent at the knee. Then, cover her with her robe and put the rest of the bags on and around her to break up the line of her shape. It worked, in the sense that no one confronted me about it, and I got us both safely to our room.
The flood of feelings and memories that hit me when I opened the door caught me off guard. Though it was mirror-image to the one we had in 2021, in every other respect it was more or less identical. I remembered so much: my tremulous excitement, the huge amount of shoes and clothing I brought for her, and how nerve-wracking it was to manipulate her body to get them on. My terrible first attempts at makeup (I turned her face bright pink!) and my discouragement, in spite of all my happiness, at how awkward and heavy she was. How much has happened to us, and how much has changed, since then!
I wheeled the cart into the room, removed the camouflaging bags, and lifted the robe. I was standing above her and her body was more or less in the fetal position, and as I uncovered her … I don’t know how else to put it except to say that it felt like I was watching her being born. And unlike her first birth, from her Chinese cardboard cocoon, she wasn’t a blank slate, she wasn’t a lovely stranger, she was my Christen. I felt the past reach out and touch the present, carrying with it all we’ve shared - the richness and fullness and excitement, the pleasure and companionship and partnership and love, the shadows and the light. I cried, just a little, and tenderly lifted her and set her in the chair by the bed.
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Now there is no part of Christen - not a single plane or curve or square inch of tender skin - with which I am not obsessed. That said, her long, slender legs drive me particularly wild. I knew the black satin ankle-strap peep-toe heels would be the perfect accent, and they absolutely were.
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The plan was to deck her in black lingerie and pose her for photos wearing her thigh-highs and the black satin shoes. I started with the panties, laying her on the bed and sliding them up her elegant legs as far as they would go. The next step would be to raise her gently to her feet and hold her against me as I pulled up the panties the rest of the way. We never made it that far. Not nearly. Why, you ask? See for yourself. Can you honestly tell me you’d have done any better in my place?
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Eventually, the panties had to go. You can see them on the nightstand in this picture – that is to say, if you can notice anything in the shot that’s not lying on the bed.
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The rest of the night was, shall we say, a little chaotic, but also sensual, tender, and very memorable. Between those legs is a beautiful place to be. We slept together with both of us naked (this was a first for us!) and when we woke up in the morning, snow was falling outside our window. We drove through it carefully back to White Rose Cottage, holding hands as often as possible, and me struggling as usual to pay attention to my driving when all I want to do is look at her face and lose myself in her eyes. In the end we made it safely home, and our third precious Valentine’s Day together is now officially in the books.
