‘coons are running up and down the roof over my head as I write. Funny critters. Can’t see ’em, but I can hear ’em. Occasionally they come to my window, hang on my screen (yikes), or just peer in. I have a fan up now so they can’t get it…still..
I know, that’s one of those non-sequitor things that have no real purpose (especially here in a sex blog!)…it just is there.
Today was a nice vanilla day, with some lovely dark fudgy stuff on top, to end it.
Got to visit with my traveling Master early in the evening. We kissed, and He grabbed my ponytail, and held my face in His lap while He pinched the fuck out of my ass. (so i can wear His marks while I travel)
He pinched so cleverly. I can feel it when I sit, but when I got up here to look…nothing.
It’s in my crack. Okay, my crack isn’t huge. (yeah, this is oversharing)…but the bruise just isn’t visible unless I bend way over ….
gee nilla, overexpose yourself much?
Okay, ya’ll know way too much about my ass. Yet, I cannot tell you all a lie…and damn He is clever. It is a bruise that will linger for awhile…and no one but me will ever know it is there.
Yay! My Master rocks!
We only had 30 minutes together, and it will have to last us for two weeks, but we’ll be okay. I’m going to make it work so I can text Him at the very least.
No sex toys on my trip.
Hello cucumber aisle of the grocery story. *smile* And the condom aisle too. That’s presuming, of course, that Himself will allow me o’s during my time away.
And…that I have energy for it. Let’s face it Mom’s….vacations are very stressful for us mom-types. The packing, the planning, the travel itself, and with little kids…
once we’re there, it’ll be good.
I keep sayin’ I’m NOT buying mouse ears. NOT wearin’ ’em. Really. Geeze.
another non-sequitor here…
isn’t it weird when, months or years after “an upsetting event”…that you wind up thinking about it, and getting mad about it all over again?
It’s stupid. It is over and done. Well over. Well done. And. It’s past and I am not a dweller in the past…
yet twice this week
i was thinking.
And being mad. All over again. I went out and cut down maple saplings. That seems to be very cathartic for me.
I just sent Master a text. “If I get a sunburn, you won’t poke me, will you? …..would You?”
Think of that fork I carry in my toybag. …deep, long, strokes.
Sadists!!!! I absolutely hate sunscreen. Up here in the north it’s a funny issue. We are Vit. D deficient, most of us. Not enough sun time. So why bother, right? And my yard is shady. And I avoid going out in direct sun between 11-2…so..why slather all that icky, gooey, stinky stuff on my poor skin? Ugh.
But that fork.
That fork is …. frightening. Painful. Oh no. I can’t even think of it touching me, sunburnt.
Hell yes, I’ll take a gallon, please!