Okay…it isn’t *really* the tundra up here…but it sure as hell feels like it. The snow for today will be minimal, but we are lined up to get another weekend storm…its exhausting to think about. I guess we’re all feeling snowed out because we haven’t had ANY melting at all since all the snow started to fall.
I finally figured out that the little igloo icon on my phone means below zero temps. Sadly, there are a lot of little igloo’s in the forecast for this week.
But–this is a sex blog (or alleges to be one, though I appreciate all of you who have told me that it’s more than that to you, that you enjoy all the posts!)…and the best way that *I* know to beat the chill is to beat those erogenous zones, right? *nods*
I’ve had a few really wicked fantasies that I’m not ready to share yet, and some are very naughty. But I was also tweaked by LadyP the other day, which inspired the HELL out of me…
I know you have enjoyed The Job. The comments continue to roll in, and continue to make my head swell. 😀 Okay, it’s not that bad, really–it just pleases me no end that you all enjoy my characters as much as I do. I’d love to be friends with Mandy, wouldn’t you? But…my brain needs a little break. I know where Nettles will be headed…and I know you all are hungry for Jakob’s story…but LadyP’s comment got my juices going and I *have* to write that story next. Don’t worry–if you don’t like it (and I am pretty sure you will, my pervie peeps!) I’ll be getting back to Nettles soon.
In the “Master and nilla” part of this update…*pauses*
nah. I got nuthin. Okay…I have a bit of moodiness. We’ve not managed a hook up in 3 weeks and I hate, hate, hate when that happens. It is perhaps one of the most *frustrating* effects of this persistent, snowy-weather pattern, that we get storm after storm on the weekends which curtails travelling any distance. And He has been…laggard…in responding to texts. Which, you know, annoys me. And sometimes frets me. And…sometimes makes me mad. Yeah, yeah, ladies don’t get “mad” they get angry. (Good thing I’m not a lady!) But it’s not fair to call it anger, because that seems to imply a deep simmering rage-y thing. And I don’t feel that. A step up from annoyed is more like it, and I’m sure that a lot of that is the lack of being able to touch Him, run my fingers over His beardy face, and kiss Him.
Yeah. It’s all about me, right?
Silly slut–He has his own life, His job, His family; our lives are dissimilar, but we each have our routines. And part of that is “touching” one another via text and when He doesn’t respond…I get pissy. And okay, I’ll admit it–I’m a worrier, a fretter. If I don’t hear from Him, then I jump right into “OMG He’s been in an accident”–and when I finally DO hear from Him? I’m testy, annoyed with him for “making” me fret in the first place.
I hate when I spin those scenarios in my head, don’t you?
And yes. You could make the argument that He should keep in contact with me more consistently…but wait.
I’m on the small-s side of the D/s slash. I answer to Him…not vice-versa. And yes…there’s “consideration” and “not fretting” me as a person and not just as a submissive…but the reality is– I am His submissive. If I send Him one text–or a hundred and one–it’s HIS choice if He wants to respond. Or even if He can respond. Driving around here has been hellish to say the least, and He would never even glance at a text while driving. Ever. End of story. And if He’s busy? Well, too bad.
So yeah–I can grumble about it. I can whine at Him and be snarky-bitchy-nilla to Him. But it won’t change a thing–because He’s the top–and I’m not.
And really–I’m happy about that. I for sure wouldn’t want to be the Dom of me. I’m a pain in the ass, needy, attention-seeking slut. 😀
So, as I sent Him my simple noon text of “Hi M”…I will hope to hear back from Him. And will be working on remembering that whether He chooses (or is able) to reply is totally at HIS whim. T’aint the easiest place to be–but I’d rather be in this spot than anyplace else.
I will add that He responded last night to a sad little text that I had sent, which said, in part:
“I don’t like going 3 weeks without seeing You–it’s hard.
Actually, it’s soft…a certain slut is not taking care of my needs.
And somehow? That kind of made everything right again.