“I dunno nilla. I think all these stories are a smokescreen for hiding the REAL stuff going on in your not-so-nilla life!! C’mon, where’s the DRAMA? Where’s the ANGST? The real stuff you hide from us! Inquiring minds want to know!!”
If you read my comment section after my stories, you may have read this last week. doubleknot, you pose an interesting question. er…challenge. I don’t often share my angst here…i think in part, because most of you come to read my sinfully dark fantasies… ? But the real nilla? Is this interesting? I think i’m a rather boring, mundane woman, really. Funny enough, several other bloggers have been dealing with this very same issue. To hide behind the anonymity of their stories, or to make their lives the story?
I guess i’m somewhere in-between. Sir and i have been a “couple” for just around 8 months. We’ve had two blissfully wonderful connections. If you’ve read some of my older stuff, you will find that many of Sir and my scenes are in some of those stories. Trust me, for two older folks…we fuck like bunnies when we’re face-to-face. We never eat, rarely drink. It’s all sex, in some form or other, the entire 7 or 8 hours we eke out. Maybe i should quantify that as D/s sex? bondage, inspection, teasing, and of course spanking are all a big part of our sex time. For both of us. (Hi, my name is nilla, and i am a spankaholic!)
We’ve had two “mini dates”. I drive down near him and we neck in his car. Not much else, as it’s usually midday. That’d be all we need, two old farts getting busted for showing skin at the Christmas Tree Shoppe parking lot!!!
The angst. Hrm. Well, you all heard me whine and suck it up nobly when I, yes, *I* broke our last meeting date. He’s in the midst of career change, involving, many, many weeks of transitional stuff. He’s been at this nonstop for 7 weeks. It’s been 4 weeks since that day when I called him, and suggested we not have a playdate, that we just let him get this other stuff behind him, first.
Yeah. I cried and cried and cried. Like a big ole baby. For days. I cried when i woke up in the middle of the night. I cried when i got up in the morning. I cried when i went to bed at night….but only after i got to talk to him on the phone. Then i made my pillow all wet.
Angst. Well….sometimes I still gots it. Sometimes, i still cry.
Last week i had some free time. A small window where the home would be empty of Wifey and childrens. I invited Sir to come here. To my home. For the first time. Maybe for a bit of play. A wee bit. My mouth, his cock. My ass, his hand. You know the drill.
You all know i’m wiccan, yes? Saturday night i was in my room. Getting ready for bed. Nekkid, under my blue and white sparkly lites. Thinking about my beloved Sir being there. In my wee nilla room! Thinking about His face, upon seeing where his nilla lays and thinks of him when she masturbates, moaning to the sky. I was gettin’ all hot ‘n bothered.
Whammo! My “psychic” side woke for a moment. And suddenly…. I *knew*.
He was thinking of me. With regret. With sadness. And direction of purpose. I felt it. Right *here* like a fist in my heart.
No, I was not having a heart attack. He didn’t text, didn’t call. But i texted him. Told him I knew. That my witchy sense had known that he would not be able to come.
He was sorry. He went to work on that Sunday, and spent 9 hours doing his work stuff. He thought of me. Texted me when he needed a wee respite.
My job is to support and bolster Him. Not knock him down because….well, because….”it is what it is” ! Real life stuff. Job. Income. Reputation. D/s is all secondary to that.
And i cried. Told him i cried for him that night.
“That’s okay,” he wrote. “This will make you a stronger sub, little girl.”
how can i be angsty after that? and He is so right. I am stronger. I’m not a burden on his mind, but a supporter, cheerleader, and someone to make silly jokes to make him laugh. He doesnt’ do it often, but nilla can tease a good old belly laugh from Him once in a while. We snort and guffaw, until, breathlessly, tenderly, we whisper our goodnights, and hang up.
Some things are almost as good as sex.
In another 2 weeks, Sir will have his “green light” and will be secure in his new career. It will be another three weeks after that before nilla has freedom in the schedule to have a play date. Angst? Maybe. I’m learning to live with the snippets of Him that i do get.
People who don’t live the D/s 24-7 …you are the ones who get this. The upswelling of need that presages a meet. The anticipation, the adreneline rush, the preparations to be just “perfect” for Him.
Deflate that with real life and you have one godddamn anguished subbie.
Then you pull up your big girl panties, and deal. (i should add that nilla does not wear panties, for the sake of pure honesty, mind you!)
When Sir and i finally do meet at the end of May, trust me….the sun will dim, the stars will sing, thunder and lighting will roll….and we’ll be putting the earth back on its proper axis once again!
I don’t revel and cling to the hurt, but it sure as hell helps me feel owned. They are bruises on the spirit, not visible to the naked eye. He makes me want to be a better woman. A better subbie. I draw strength from Him, even as I give him everything that *i* am. . . He demands my obedience, but accepts my free-spirited ways.
He tames me. Calms me. Beats the crap outta my ass. Fucks me senseless. Gives me a bazillion orgasms. And then tenderly cradles my head as he gives me water when i’m tied to the bed.
So i can give Him more.
It’s what i try to do. Every day.
Give him a little bit more of me.