It was again in Starbucks that we met. The meet was an unexpected moment, something that “suddenly came up” and gave us a wee opportunity to see one another, after vanilla life fucked up our plans last weekend.
Such is life, after all. We’ve learned, after all this time, to adapt and roll with it. I was sad, frustrated, but a big girl about it. When the opportunity arose to be with him for an hour or so, I leapt on it. He needed some convincing, mostly because He had things to be doing and I … *wicked grin*…well…..tend to distract Him.
There was some horsing around (on my part). Some frowning (on his part). Some tea drinking (both of us) and some actual work (I wrote two stories!).
I tagged Him with heart stickers, once biting my lip to stop myself from giggling – when He happened to look up and catch me…and said “WHAT?” in that exasperated, don’t-fuck-with-me-little-girl tone.
And I laughed.
Laughed like a loon.
Laughed until I had to hold my sides.
Laughed until I cried.
“You put another fucking heart on me…didn’t you….?”
He finds it, adds it to the collection he has, framing his computer. 🙂
It’s fun, and just good to be together.
And then He gets up to go to the bathroom, and leans over me, pinching me fiercely on my arm…ow ow ow…and so good, too.
When He returns, He manages to tangle his computer cord around His foot and chair. Immediately I spring up from my chair and kneel at His feet, untangling Him. Help Him get it out from under His chair. When I would have risen, gone back to my seat, He holds me by my hair.
“Oh no. You stay. Right. There.”
The world narrows at that moment. I look up at Him and everything else falls away. I hear nothing, see nothing, but Him. It is incredibly intimate, extremely erotic. Somewhat humbling, later. When He lets me up at last, at His whim, and I realize that there were several people near us. Not that I give a flying fuck, mind you. Not really. Just that first rush of embarrassment…which is usually quickly gone. Much better to hold onto the sweet feeling of being at His feet, the intense gaze holding me in my place, the feeling of His hand holding mine in place on His thigh, His hand wrapped around a hank of my hair.
And now, a few days later from that scene, comes a “typical” texting day with my Master. While it may seem to juxtapose with the intense scene you just read, it is just another way we interact, and play with one another.
And of course, He told me to blog it. *sigh* This then, is Thursday afternoon/evening with nilla and Master:
“Leaving for work. EXTREMELY horny and it is ALL Your fault!”
Thank you. And ZNN-OFF!
“You’re working too hard…take a moment…close Your eyes…and imagine the blank canvas of my ass just waiting…what do You choose first? Hand? Belt? Teeth?”
Scale – I’m selling your ass by the lb! I’m fucking rich!
“MASTER! Bastard! I’m down two pounds so You better sell me quick…!”
All of this is bloggable!
You have no ‘g’ – remember?
“Do so…she’s just way more sexually active that Your ‘G’…!”
“Leaving for Town in 5. Will call then.”
(via phone) I have a new assignment for you, nilla. These things help keep your mind fresh and active. I want you to find a bisexual woman. Someone we could play with if I choose to do this. She has to either be a Top, or be willing to be firm and rough, leaning towards being a top. I have NO use for another bottom bitch.
“*laugh* are you calling me a bitch, Master?”
no. you’re not a bitch. just a sultry slut. No rush on this. Tuesday will be fine. *laughs* Wait! Tuesday is Like Day. Okay, Wednesday then. But, you know. No rush.
*nervous laughter* and nilla has to sign off, having arrived at my destination.
He, btw, made this bloggable so you all can commiserate with the “shit” He has to put up with from me. 🙂 Isn’t He cute? After picking up the teen, and heading home and debarking, and getting settled in for the night, I send one last text.
“I am home. And horny. Bastard.”
Somehow, I think He’s smiling over that one.