Go grab a cuppa–tea for me, and whatever you prefer…I have a chat coming on. 😀
M was away this weekend but for once I didn’t go into a state of total mourning over it. I had TONS of vanilla stuff to get done, and we did manage a bit of face time last week, so I was buoyed by that. And I’m still sporting bruises from that brief encounter.
I put on weight over the winter…not much, mostly regaining the 8 pounds I’d lost during December and January–once it snowed, all outdoor activity ended and we pretty much just huddled inside.
Ate and ate and ate.
Last Sunday He grabbed my belly and growled in my ear that i might want to consider losing that–because He would absolutely focus on that area as a grab handle. I squealed and whimpered, pressing myself against His body as He leaned against His car. No one could see those fucking hard hands busily skimming my body and pinching me hard and fast, first here, then there, then a quick boob grab. He moved me past hurt and into “oh holy hell” territory, until I couldn’t even make noise (He LOVES when He does that to me)…just one l o n g inhaled breath against His neck.
He reiterated that directive over the phone later last week, that I was making torturing me verrrry easy, with the newly plump roll around my middle…
I admit to feeling pretty lax about my weight until that happened…that threat, and the promise, and the bruises I wear around my middle like a sadistically formed belt. It’s both fear-factor and an intense turn on for me.
Yard work and outdoor time will do a lot to help tone that up and “lighten my load” a bit…but not in the short 4 or 5 weeks until playtime happens…so I’m nervous AND anticipating our next encounter.
The snow is finally gone from the yard–the last pile finally went poof this past Wednesday, though I have friends here in town closer to the hills that still have quite a bit of snow. You don’t have to go much further north to still find the white menace, either. And (caution, whine ahead)…I had to turn my heat back on today, as it is a raw and rainy Patriot’s Day here in Mass. I feel for all the folks running in the Boston Marathon–hella day to be out in the muck, to be sure. We need the rain, the gardens are sprouting furiously, the lawns are turning green and there is a hint that the trees are starting to unfurl those buds that have been held tight all winter long. It was nice to have nearly two weeks above 60, but this week is forecast to be cold, and maybe wet. Bad for outside work–but I will have more time here, so YOU all benefit from the bad weather.
I was reading someone’s blog about fantasies the other day, not sure where, about how we all have them (and lets admit it–some of ours are pretty dark and nasty). Which is, in itself, comforting, isn’t it? That it isn’t only me (or you) who is a sexual deviant, or sexually dysfunctional? And there were adjunct comments about how most of us don’t want any of them to come true. (Though there is still an element of real vs fantasy that is a turn on to me too. Do I really not want it? Do I maybe want it? Do I not want it? Am I turned on by that fear that maybe it could–yes. And no. And yes. And NO…!) And that made me think of the story I’m working on, where that lucky woman got to that dark and dastardly fantasy…and that made me wonder—if you all had a chance to live out one fantasy, what would it be?
Or what fantasies to you want to ONLY fantasize about and never have come to life?
I confess that I had a GINORMOUS orgasm last week to such a fantasy–so dark and dirty I never want it to happen but good gawd it made me so fucking hot that when I came, I soaked my “cum blanket” that I put under me so I don’t soil my bed. That was likely the biggest self-generated orgasm that I’ve ever had. I can share a picture (I was pretty fucking proud of myself…I usually only squirt that hard when M is fucking me!) if you’re curious. 😀 Because who wouldn’t document such a momentous thing, right? Or maybe that’s just me?
Himself has been teasing me about “Big Red” again…He says someday Big Red and my asshole will meet–intimately–and there won’t be any warning. The mood will strike Him to do it, and fuck me if I complain about it–because that’s the way it is.
And damned if that doesn’t make me wet when He says that (nothing like going to work with soaked panties, right?) And doesn’t it continue make me wet to write about it, even when proofreading it? I guess that means that I’m all juicy now, right. Right!! Just remembering the tone of His voice, the raspy Pirate sound of it. The threat wrapped in a promise of “someday, slut”…and the idea of not knowing when it will happen, but that it will happen.
And I can sit here with my half-empty tea cup and tell you I’m not a fan of anal…which isn’t really a lie…but also get so fucking turned on when it happens that it makes it like a lie. Maybe the lie is in the disconnect between my ass, my cunt and my brain? Because the ass protests, my brain freaks out a bit..and my pussy convulses, yearning to be stuffed full, all the while coming almost constantly. I tell you, my wiring is so fucked up! But you knew that, if you’ve been reading all along. I’m just fucked up, and totally and completely okay with it.
So since I asked you about your fantasy, here is a brief look at mine…an offshoot of the Big Red words from Master; of being taken by someone I don’t know (circumstances go from pumping gas to flat tire on the highway to hiking in the woods) and brought to a rough shed outside somewhere, where one other guy is already waiting…and being fucked repeatedly by them, until they decide they’re done for the day (or weekend)…and they walk away, leaving me a cum-and-bruise-covered slut. That wasn’t the *full* fantasy that got me off so hard the other day…but it’s a part of it. 😀 There are so many variations of that theme…
Okay, my cuppa is drained, and I’ve got to get back to my vanilla life. Until later, pervie peeps! Don’t forget to share your fantasy (and feel free to email me if you don’t want it all over the page here. 😀 )