Is that not a funny title for a sex blog?
I know, and it won’t even be followed by a rabid tale of wild sexy naughty stuff. Because, unlike fiction, this is real life. And most of us have those ups and downs in our relationships, sometimes filled with raw and raging urges, sometimes filled with annoyances and grievances, and sometimes…just needing or giving or getting…cuddled.
Such was the case when Master and nilla *finally* hooked up this weekend just past. I had an extraordinarily crazy week, and the weekend was booked solid, every minute from 7 a.m. until nearly midnight. I think I’m going to earn a reward once this teen is done with high school and gets into college. The fun continued on the next day and…
though it is hard to believe?
I was grumpy as hell.
Fighting either allergies or a cold (or some bizarre reaction to my flu shot several weeks ago…I’ve not been 100% since two days after that…*shrugs* who knows, right?). I’ve been needing Master time and it didn’t work out that we’d get the large block of time we’d originally thought we’d manage on Saturday.
And then Sunday I miscalculated on timing and thought we’d only have an hour. So I sent a …terse-ish? text saying “why bother, it’s only an hour, forget it”…
to which He calmly replied
“which location works best for you? A or B?”
And yanno, I cried.
Yeah. Silly emo slut, sitting there holding my phone and crying and feeling silly happy. He loves me and cares and knew I needed Him.
Knew I needed some one on one time to just breathe. I didn’t need a spanking–okay, you’re right, I always want/need a spanking–but it wasn’t what I felt just then.
I slid into the booth next to Him and laid my head on His shoulder and just breathed in His scent. I felt healed. I felt whole. I felt…like I could just stay there forever…but also fortified to finish all my other obligations.
Being there, His hand subtly tangled in my hair, and tugging my head down low on His chest, it looked for all the world as if He was just comforting me, while my scalp throbbed, as my hair clung to His fingers, every bit as wanton for His touch as the rest of me. His words cheered me, talking of innocuous things in His life, offering advice for an ongoing issue in my life. Then there was the tender and painful way He held my hand, squeezing my fingers until they were white–yet giving two-fold comfort. (is there anything more soothing than hand-holding–especially coupled with pain?) Later, He walked me to my car, pinching me as I went. Once I was settled in my car He added tickles and kisses. And one wicked pinch as I attempted to fasten my seat belt. He’s the very devil with pinches! (and I adore it!)
He can stop my bullshit with a look, a word, and heal my mood with one touch of His hand.
Thank you Master. You may never know how very much You helped me. But as You say….You are fucking brilliant at this shit. 🙂
UPDATE: DATELINE, TUESDAY EVENING
I tend to call Him on my way home from work. We don’t connect every evening, but many of them. He’s started doing this little thing, where I say I need to hang up-I am turning onto my home street or at the place I need to be …and He says ‘no’.
It’s subtle, but Dominant, you know?
It always makes me jolt a bit…Oh. I can’t hang up yet. He said no. Mind you, He never does it in a way where I am in danger…inconvenienced? Sure. Danger of being caught talking to Him by my family or harmed? No.
Last night I stopped at the store to pick up milk. One of those little convenience stores that dot the landscape here…and one just a few houses away from my home.
I tell Him I need to go, that I’m at the store. I carry the conversation to the door, and start to enter.
“Don’t you go in.”
It was very firm, very quietly said. One of those “oh my” experiences that draws me back and reminds me of my place in our dynamic.
“Yessir,” I murmur, sliding back from the door and into the little break-wind wall, where a partition keeps the door from blowing open on windy days.
And I wait.
My heart thumps hard in my chest. And I think..this. This feeling right here. This is what makes us …U/us. This is what makes me whole. This is what tickles my pussy though He is 40 plus miles away…
His voice comes through the phone. It’s amused…like He knows exactly what He has done to me.
“Let’s recite the alphabet,” He says.
And for a moment of panicked thought…how does it start? What’s the alphabet? He begins.
I stutter, clear my throat. He remains silent but I feel the expectation in the silence.
“B?” I say.
“D” I reply.
“What was that?” His voice is cool, as if I missed something. Oh OH! D…..!
“CAPITAL D!” I giggle into the phone.
“Good slut. And don’t you forget it.”
Nothing is quite like that feeling. Pleased, happy in some silly way that I’ve pleased Him. And totally unaware of my being pressed against this lucite panel, cold wind swirling around my ankles, not heading inside the warm store.
“F!” (I’m getting good at this!)
There’s a pause…but in a moment He says “G”… and my pussy just lurches…He is totally in control, totally enjoying Himself.
“H…” I’m starting to become very turned on now, feeling my cunt leaking. (Hell, just writing this is turning me on!)
“Jayyy” I draw it out.
“L!” I say, triumphantly, as if quoting the alphabet is a major accomplishment. Frankly? At this point? It is. I’m mush. Putty. A wet, horny slut totally unaware of the why of this, totally aware that He’s controlling me very adroitly from afar.
I am opening my mouth to say the next letter.
“What kind of M is that, nilla?”
“DEFINITELY a capital M, Master.”
“Good slut. And we shall stop right there.”
“But…Master…the next is small n for nilla, and O, we can’t stop before O, Master!”
“Sure we can.”
He laughs, and that sends darts of lust straight into my belly.
“We got to the most important one, after all. And don’t you forget it.”
“No Master…I won’t!”
“Goodnight slut. Go get your milk now.”
I wonder if the girl behind the counter noticed that certain scent wafting from me, or noted my very erect nipples? She didn’t say, but she did smile as she cashed me out. I was smiling too. Tingling, feeling every inch His, feeling like a total wanton slut.
Feeling….cuddled….from 40 miles away.