Off My Game

Dateline: Tuesday afternoon

I am feeling unwell…not *bad*, mind you, but just a bit off. My tummy isn’t quite right, though I can eat. My head is muzzy and I’m sneezy and –I’m just “off”.

Yeah. I know.

I’m often “off”…

*laughs*

not that kind, you goof!

One of the stupid side effects of not being on par is a muzzy head. I can’t think my way through a story line. And I’m all atwitter (not the tweeting kind, the nervous excited energy kind) about the impending big snow tonight (Tuesday) and tomorrow (Wednesday).

I love snow.

LOVE.

SNOW.

I do, yes. The smell of it…it’s almost indescribable. Cold, to be sure, but sweetly crisp? The sound of it…every other noise is muffled. The few cars moving down the road. The birds are quieter than normal. People aren’t out much but the snowfall tamps down the sound if they speak. The light of it…even in the deepest, darkest, part of the night, the world has a glow to it, with snow on the ground, or falling from the sky.

And the miracle of it. Oh, I know. If you’re from Florida or Georgia or the Carolina’s you’re cringing at that. But up here where we’re ready and prepared? Each flake a miracle of formation, just from a scientific perspective. A flake has a hard time forming, the conditions have to be perfect. There is bouncing around in the cloud, taking on shape and form and substance, before it ever makes its way down from the cloud to the land below.

Okay, I’m waxing poetic about a snowflake. *shrugs*

Did I mention how much I like snow,  a dozen times or more over these last 4 plus years? 🙂

And guess what?

C’mon…guess.

I’ll sit here with my tea and wait for you.

Sunday is my birthday.

AND there could be an even bigger storm then which is terribly, wonderfully thrilling…three storms in a row, each better than the last? Kewl beans, my pervie friends, kewl beans.

I might yet get snowshoeing this winter!!  (Last time we had a lot of snow, we got into the polar vortex and i’m not that much in shape that I could go outside and tackle that!)

All that said, we might all be housebound here on Wednesday (which is today as you read this, but yesterday as I wrote it!)…and no ability to write. I’ll be sewing and knitting and doing all the good housewifey stuff, and not doing anything slutty or naughty or writerly.

I know you all understand.

*smiles at you all for understanding*

So rather than giving you chapters of some of those stories I’ve got in my head,  I’ll give you a wee bit of my last weekend instead…when i *finally* got to see the Man. We had a nice time together, sharing company as we drank our tea. Talking, laughing, a bit of kiss and pinches.  We expect to spend some time together this upcoming Saturday evening. I might help Him purchase curtains for His house, and we might eat together. A nice time, weather permitting.

Have I mentioned His beardy face?

He has facial hair, yes,  which I LOVE. I love the feel of His raspy whiskers on my cheek and lips as we kiss. The somewhat soft feel of them as I caress and cup His face (for the 3 seconds He allows it). And the way it burns when He rubs them on my naked skin during playtime…mmmmm!

So we kissed. Briefly. He grabbed a teeny little bit of skin just at my armpit and pinched the fuck out of it, with the tiniest of pinches. I gasped, holding my breath and sitting at attention. It’s the first time in a month that we’ve had even the tiniest of play time…public play, but still..it was lovely to have His hands on me, feeding me baby bites of pain and attention.

We had a brief conversation last night via text regarding want vs need. I feel I need pain as part of my life, I thrive on it to some extent. He says that needs are biological. Food, sleep, water. All else is merely desire.

Anyone else see the disparity there between us? 🙂

(I am forever drawn to those who are the polar opposite of me!)

Yet we make it work, and He recognizes how important “needs” are to others. (Recognizes…and uses, I’d say.) So I got my dose of face time with the Man, who is *so* fucking good at throwing these little sexy-naughty-Domly things into an ordinary vanilla conversation. Catches me up short every time.

I pause, considering. Replaying His words in my head.

Did He just say…?

I look at Him, and His eyes glitter. He watches for my reaction, drinks them in with His sips of tea.

I blush. I stutter. I blink in confusion.

He smiles, sits back, pleased.

He’s gotten me, again.

(You’re so gullible, slut)

How could I have gotten through the last 4 weeks without this, i wonder?

*************

In other news, He is allowing me to get a colored streak in my hair…a purple one. *giggling with delight*. He is not upset with the cutting of hair into layers, and the color is good too. Phew. But the purple streak? That’s new. Exciting. Tweeny, I know.  Juvenile. Well…so?

Yeah, you all know that I’m never going to grow up!

**********************************

I guess that’s all the words I have the ability to put together, pervie peeps. I know this isn’t all that sexy, exciting stuff, but it is the fullness of who I am, so I know you get it. Life, even D/s life, isn’t all tie-ups, beatings, and fucking, (mores the pity, right?!)…there’s also this side, the not-quite-well, the tired, the (dare I say it?) vanilla stuff that is part of the equation for all of us.

I guess as long as you can accept that, that there will be vanilla amongst the bruises, that there will be bill-paying along with play-date planning–then you really “get” it…this is life, D/s or vanilla…and finding your peace with ALL sides of it is what we all need to get to. Doms will be too tired to spank, subs will be too exhausted to give a fuck, time will be short, play will be supplanted by unexpected company–and it’s all the real stuff of life–all else is fantasy. And while you know that *I* of all peeps get the need for the fantasy, know too that I accept that the vanilla parts really are as important as the kink.

I know.

I wish it weren’t so.

I wish I could push away property taxes, and schoolwork, and laundry, and poop-scooping the backyard and make everything kinky…but that’s not real, is it? I’ve made my peace with what I am (a horny, needy, greedy slut)…and that what I get from Master (pain, kink, sex, tasks)  is what I need. Together, over these last 4 years, we’ve crafted something special, something that is flexible, malleable.  It’s what works for us. Despite not having every moment of the day being kinky,  the time we DO get to play is all the more special for the waiting. Sometimes all the more intense for the waiting, too. Kind of like when He delays my orgasms for a few days…and when I do finally get one, its a whoppah. 🙂

I wish that for you, pervie peeps. Balance, and bliss.

I’m off to bed. Must sleep. Master says…bedtime is sleeping time, not sending long lists of queries about the nature of submission, or the role of the Dominant. 🙂

(yeah, I do that.)