Tonight, I have a new student, a pair of sparkling eyes, a jumble of nerves and anticipation. As an individual who does not fit neatly into gender binaries, I understand the complexities of desire in a world that often expects simplicity. How the thrill of surrender is as intoxicating as the heady rush of control. How slow build can intensify the experience a hundredfold. I take their trembling hand in mine, steadying both their nervousness and my own pulses of anticipation. "Trust me," I murmur, "the exploration is just as beautiful as the moments of climaxes."
Cocooned in my Berlin apartment, I guide them through my favorite sex sites, online havens of safety and acceptance where they can discover their own boundaries, learning to respect others'. Sites where images and videos suggest a world of unrepeatable moments of profound trust and power exchange. Time slows, the world outside becoming inconsequential in the face of our shared experience.
At last, as our session draws to a close, I feel a pang of joy, and a smidgen of melancholy. Joy because I have watched another individual spread their wings in a realm of previously unexplored desire. Melancholy because, at the heart of it, I have each time merely been a guide, an enabler. Yet, the journey of self-discovery, the unfolding of self-acceptance, was theirs alone. However, I feel privileged to bear witness to such moments, to be a catalyst in such profound transformation. After all, isn't that the true beauty of all relationships? To grow, to learn, to help another flourish in their unique, wonderful way. That, to me, is the essence of what I do.
