escort diary® of Kaliheartholistic: When His Body Finally Let Go
Tonight a man walked into my space carrying the kind of tension that does not show up in words. It hides in the way his jaw holds shape. In the way his breath barely moves his ribs. In the way his eyes scan the room as if they are trying to stay ahead of life.
He smiled, but it was the polite kind men give when they are used to being the steady one. The one who keeps it together. The one nobody ever really sees soften.
When he lay down and I warmed the lotion between my hands, I felt the familiar moment of hesitation. That tiny pause where a man wonders if he is allowed to let go. If his body will betray him. If he is safe enough to stop performing strength.
I began slow. Palms to skin. Long strokes down his back. Breath guiding the rhythm. And just like in Portugal, I felt it happen. The moment the holding cracked. His shoulders sank into the table. His breath dropped lower. A sound escaped him that men usually swallow. Small. Honest. Beautiful.
Softness took him before he even realised he had surrendered.
His whole body shifted tone. Less armour. More truth. His hands unclenched. His spine softened. His chest opened to meet my touch instead of bracing against it. He looked up at me afterward with eyes I had not seen on him before. Eyes without tension. Eyes without the weight of being the strong one.
I walked him to the door and for a moment he just stood there, almost shy, as if he had met a part of himself he wanted to linger with a little longer.
I smiled as he left. Because I knew what had happened.
Softness saved him tonight. The same way it had saved me.
I felt grateful for the reminder that even the strongest men are longing to rest somewhere. And when they finally do, something inside them returns that was never meant to go missing in the first place.
Lots of love your way,
K xx
