you came and hoped that i had more fiction for you. Here’s the thing. First…i think my brain is chillaxing while my body is healing.
Did that sound dramatic?
i am NOT crippled, not damaged, nor unable to perform the zillions of things i do as a matter of course for my vanilla life. i am hurty in a bunch of places. And i had yoga the other night, which stretched out those hurty places even more.
But i have no “extra” energy just now. Okay? And…. maybe i’m just feeling a bit unmotivated. ;0 … it happens to the best of us! And maybe i am just still so wrapped up in Him that i can’t think about fiction just now?
The other day…i was talking to Donna. And she mirrored a thought that i was having.
You see, i’m in love with Ivy.
Yes, i’m still deep into editing the “thing which has no name” that i wrote in November. (it doesn’t have a title. i’m stumped at titles. Coz it’s the “thing that doesn’t have a name” right?!)
It kinda feels like a book to me. (omg, did i just say that outloud?????) And there has been MUCH positive feedback on it, for which i want to say a sincere and heartfelt thank you. It made me happy to know that it effected you. And i want to really jump into it. So will you all want to shoot me for this? Coz i swear it was just going to be a short story when i first saw that picture that made me think “wood-nymph and woodsman” when i saw it.
i have another piece started. Don’t worry, i think you’ll like it.
Up there, at the beginning of this, i said that i’m still so wrapped up in the reality of Him. It’s so so so true.
We were talking the other night, just touching base. He teases me about my haircut; it’s gotten his approval (both before and afterwards)…but he will periodically send me texts that say “AAAAAARRRGH…what happened to your hair????!!!”
and that makes me laugh my ass off. That Man.
oops. Rambling again. *grin*
So we were talking and i was hinting obliquely for an Orgasm.
“nilla. Are you asking for an O?” (oh, He’s so smart.)
He agreed, after some back and forth, that He will allow me ONE orgasm (He’d been threatening me with one of those dreaded “Half-O’s”…the Mean Bastard!) but how to execute it, that was stumping Him for the moment.
When i started hinting, i was asking for 4 or 5 orgasms…to which He replied that i’ll not see that many O’s for the next three weeks…eeep?
Still not sure if He was just tweaking me, or serious. i’m not going to dwell on the possibility.
So there He is on the phone, trying to decide what “kind” of O it should be…. when i jump in with maybe a left-handed O would be fun. It is a lot of work for me to reach all those “sweet”spots with my left hand.
He jumped on the idea, and compounded it with taking 2 treks up the Mountain, and stopping before i fall over the edge…only on the third trip up would i be allowed to cum.
Oh. My. Fucking.
Yet, what can i do but agree? He has total control here, and if He says NO orgasm…that’s what i get. So of course i am gonna agree to a left-handed fucking orgasm!!!
He was teasing me a bit with it, and then He goes back to talking about His day.
“You know, nilla, I was talking to a friend of mine today. ”
There is a pause, and i interject a polite, “oh, that was nice for you Master.”
“Yes,” He says, the tone of his voice musing thoughtfully. “And sometime in the next 60 days, you’ll have his cock in your mouth.”
“But,” He continues, “I don’t want you to think about that at all while you’re working on that left-handed O tonight, okay slut?”
“stutter, stutter, stutter…mmmMasterr…uh…um…”
He laughs so wickedly.
“Don’t give it a single thought, nilla. Really. Pretend I didn’t say a thing about it.”
We talk for a few minutes more, but He refuses to let me turn the conversation back to that remark of His. After a little bit of time, He says, He has work to do and really must go now.
He reminds me to forget the comment He had made earlier.
“Oh and…” He pauses. “oh, forget it. Nevermind.”
“Master?” i wheedle. “Oh, “and”??? What “and”…Master?”
“Hmmm? Oh, nothing, nilla. I really don’t want you to toss and turn and wonder like that. It’ll make it far to hard for you to go to sleep.”
There is another pause and i think about the wisdom of pushing Him a bit, wheedling for more details of that teasing little “and” He’d dropped.
“Oh, by the way, slut,”
“is my pussy wet?”
i reach and touch between my legs. And even in the dark, i feel the flush of embarrassment on my face.
Whispering into the phone i say “yes, Master, it is a wet pussy.”
“Yeah, I thought so. Nighty night, nilla.”