The submissive act

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said to me, kissing the top of my head, "but wasn't there a time when this submissive act was something you only wanted sometimes?"

I had been nestled up to his side, purring happily with the closeness, stroking his chest. I stopped. I was completely silent for many many seconds, and then I said, quietly. "It's not an act."

"Well, for want of a better word.." he backtracked, correcting himself.

Too late, that seed had been planted. I exerted all of my willpower to remain open and nestled against him and not withdraw emotionally as well. "You're wrong." I told him, managing to say it lightly and with a grin. "Just because you didn't know it doesn't mean I didn't want it. I didn't want to be pushy and make you uncomfortable."

"I see. Kiss me." he said. I did. Things happened. I was well and thoroughly submissive.

After, he held me, my head on his shoulder. "It's not an act." I said again, a little breathless, still quiet.

"I know." He kissed the top of my head, clapping a nice set of bookends on the interaction.

He says he does. We've discussed this. I've told him how turned on I was at a young age by certain passages in unlikely well-known and well-loved books, that I won't even mention here because it's that weird. And I have been known to attribute him with far more complexity than he possesses - it could well be that he really couldn't think of a better word. I should probably take him at his word. But it's hard.

I think too much.