Purple light district

Purple Light
Purple light district (more polyamory related, erotic stories can be found at www.aliceinpolyland.com)

He was a tech guru. Incredibly smart, unique, tall, handsome. Though he didn’t really believe the latter. His last relationship left him questioning his self confidence.

“Do you know why the Red Light District in Amsterdam has that name?”, asked Valen over one of their casual online chats. “I’m not sure, babe, why?” “The sex workers turn on the red lights to attract their customers… I will turn my lights purple whenever I’m in the mood.” he texted

Of course, it would just be the idea he’d come up with thought Alice with a smile. She loved the combination of his creativity and geeky tech background… “Could I get a text when the purple lights are on so I don’t need to drive by each time?” “Yes, I’ll create a macro that would summon you via text.” “Mmmmm, and I’ll share my GPS location with you as soon as I leave” she responded with a laugh.

The purple district was never the same. Roofless drives in a convertible, sunset beach walks, lavish cooked dinners, yummy oysters. Incredible pleasures – from a wonderful oral move he had discovered that she lovingly called a screwdriver, three types of orgasms she’s apparently experienced, play with his glistening cock covered in oil, sensual candle-lit silent shower dates to practicing the piano for a submissive fantasy she had. Body painting, erotic photo shoots and more. The energy they shared was exciting, new and deep.

At times, the flow of energy exchange would come to a halted stop. It was important for him to re-establish his authority over his boundaries. Stay grounded in his power, owning the sexuality, body image, emotional exchange. At times she felt the halted energy would break up the purple light flow into segments of expressive loving episodes interrupted by pauses of withdrawal and confusion. She knew there was love in between the walls, but the interruptions brought on the feelings of loss, abandonment, unfulfillment and denial. Shame and guilt she used to feel growing up around sexuality, inability to be expressive with it, silencing her thoughts seemed strangely familiar. She tried accepting the fractals of light just as they were, practicing being flexible and surrendering to the unknown. And yet his wounding triggered her own memories of pain, feeling stuck and bound. How does one heal from it? There were no macros for this.

Is there a purple light in his windows tonight? She may keep checking for a while.

Read more stories at www.aliceinpolyland.com

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