Genevieve
Warrior Priestess Initiatrix
She understood what she was initating me into, holding my mirror to me from deep future. This is what you asked for and were therefore given. With Gen, her boundary was: you are not to even want me. The implication was, if you’re going to be mirror celibate, there is no point (the mirror wholly eclipses her yoni).
Right now, because that’s how you are with me.
She showed me my mirror.
I never tasted or even smelled myself in her presence; was always dressed; and by tacit agreement, accepted her role as superior priestess. With other priestesses I could cry out and long for their mercy. I could cum looking at their faces and slurp myself openly.
Genevieve held the space of my self-containment and also modeled how it would feel to never again with women.
I want to call this photo Deal With It.
That’s what she’s saying about my cum mirror and any feelings I might have about myself, or it. I want to be embarrassed. I need to be, yearn, but Genevieve is making that impossible. She’s saying, be a man and accept yourself for who you are. Then she’s gone. In a moment or two, I’m naked, high on her strength of focus. I take a drag and I’m soaring introverted.
I want her to hold that mirror, my cum mirror, while I lick my prior emission and stoke my thirst. I have wholly taken on the respect and beauty of her assertion:
do it alone and for yourself
