Friday Night, unFucked

Little did I know that my Orgasmic Friday night lay at the mercy of the Red Sox, who apparently were up, bases loaded, one out at the top of the seventh inning. This is American Baseball here, folks, and I’m not gonna educate you about it…that’s why there’s Google!

So, Master, a huge sports fan, but especially of  baseball, decides to hinge my FNF orgasm(s) on whether the Sox score runs. It’s the top of the 7th inning…one out, two to go. He is pleased with this decision, because in reality, I could have earned two, three, four or more orgasms. But the Red Sox have followed in the footsteps of their once heroic pitcher, Roger Clemens, and went belly-up, hitting into a double play and ending the inning with runners stranded on all three bases.

This meant…no orgasms for nilla on Friday  night.

The fuckers!

Now, bear in mind that I had NO idea that this was all going on at Master’s house, and in Master’s devious head.

I call.

No answer.

I text.

No answer.

I don’t think much about it…He could be at Starbucks, working. We often don’t hook up until 10. But at 10:10 there was still no answer. And I was freaking out.

He’d had an accident.

He’d had a heart attack.

He’d had open heart surgery.

He’d gotten lost after he beat his GPS lady into a pulp.

He’d been hit by a train….

oh it went on and on. This, after I told aisha that I didn’t spin scenario’s anymore.

Big dummy that I am!!! I may not have *thought* I did that anymore. . . but the panic that ensued when I realized just how many hours it had been since I had heard from Him just escalated…

And I sent one last, frantic text.

“Yeah, so? ” He responds.

Oh, grrrrr…from fear-filled to furious. HOW could He treat me so cavalierly? So *meanly*….oh…



Didn’t I just write about that yesterday? Duh.

I call Him and remember to speak respectfully. “You worried me, Master” I said in dulcet tones. Really, I did that. Emotional me, and yet….I was so calm, so cool, so submissive.

So perfect. …*snikker*

“What for? I’m fine.”

“But…You didn’t answer me for hours, Master, and I was worried and…”

“Yeah? I was ignoring you, nilla.”

The calm and perfect facade cracks. I grrr.


I grrrr-ed. At my Master.

He laughed.

Eventually we talk about it being FNF…

“Yeah, but there is not going to be *any* fuck in your Friday Night Fuck, nilla”

*sound of screeching brakes*


I stutter when He does this to me. Honestly. Aisha will tell you, I do not stutter in real life. I don’t. But He brings me to that point all the fucking time of late.

He explains that the Red Sox fucked up my O’s for the night. Now, I’ve been O-less since…Wednesday? And I’m feeling a bit desperate. Too bad. So sad.

“Master…” I text Him later, “That’s just not fair…”

Fair?  Now you know in your heart, pussy and ass (not necessarily in that order) that “fair” is not a concept that I adopt/acknowledge/give a shit about, n’est pas?

I think about that for a bit. And yanno, I’m so losing my “perfect submissive” statue here. Do you think the Academy of Perfect Sluts will ask for it back?

I reply: “Eyeroll. Yes, Master.”

Me? Sarcastic to my Lord and Master? *snikker* Yeah. A bit.

Good thing He likes me that way.

His last word on the subject:

That’a good slut.

Hmmmm…I will take a good girl from Him over my “perfect sub statuette” any day of the week!

And dear gods…I hope I get to cum soon.


*********LAAAATE Saturday night update****************

 I called. He answered. He plugged my ass. 

We phonesexed.

I came! Twice!


15 thoughts on “Friday Night, unFucked

  1. I think the phrase you were looking for was “MINDfucked Friday Night. ”

    Now I think I’ll go tackle Wolf. Or at least drag him off to bed. It’s been a long week.

  2. I’ve been doing the same thing all day

    M’s MIA

    actually — he’s in the sticks
    which sometimes means no signal
    so he could be texting me and thinking I’m MIA
    but more likely — he’s stopped looking at his phone

    I hate what my imagination does


    PS — at least there’s no 1/2 O in baseball
    — wait

    don’t say that to him — you might get 1/2 O’s for every man left on base
    that would suck.

    1. I am just so so so not telling him that. OMG…4 one-half orgasms? *shudders*

      better to be orgasm free…don’t tell HIM that, tho!



  3. I could never do that. Mostly because I don’t like baseball. But to use that with hockey, and make things dependent on how well certain teams perform? Maybe. Mrs. AP just might like that we tend to like a high scoring team. Come to think of it, so might I. >:-)

    I like your Master. He’s inspiring.

    Stay SINful
    Mr. AP

    1. 🙂

      Well…there are so many different variations of this…poker, or pool, or rugby; soccer/football (Euro), football (American), water polo…so many, many things you can use for inspiration…

      Mrs. AP won’t be happy that Master put you up to this! LOL

      Then again, if she’s game (pun very much intended)….perhaps she’ll enjoy it as much as I do!


    1. *laughing* OMG…another fucking Math Genius…!!!

      I’m surrounded! *throws arms up in the air and runs around the room screaming*



  4. i sure am glad you got your orgasms!! And glad my Sir isn’t into sports that much. i don’t think this would ever occur to Him.


    1. Nodding…it’s only dependent on the Sox occasionally. Thank goodness. Although after the Superbowl crash by the Pat’s I thought I’d have no O’s until May…He’s a pretty serious sports nut!

      And I’ve just become a Yankees fan.



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