Yes, I’m alive. Totally swamped just now but really, I’m hear. Thank you for not feeling like I neglected the fuck out of you. You didn’t think I did it apurpose, did you? Coz, no.
So the Asshole..in the heading. Ya. My M.
Gave me Independence Day off from my most hated “prep day”…2 edgings, the infamous Master Half-O’s. Which, as I pointed out to him are really like 99.9% O’s. Because, you know, they get you right to the edge of that fucking cliff (pun intended) without falling over. Which made him laugh, the delight clear in his amusement.
But then he plants this seed of doubt.
“I gotta say, nilla, I think you’re going to have a less than spectacular O tonight,” as we chat Tuesday evening.
“Master,” I reply, my tone also amused. “I *always* have great O’s….well, there was the one time I just couldn’t come, but all the other times…sure.”
“I don’t think it will be anything to cheer about,” He says, his tone serious. “After all, no prep to tease and taunt your pussy with. And we all know how your pussy responds to that sort of…stimulation.”
“You mean torture,” I say.
“Whatever. It still makes you squirt, little girl.”
I can feel myself blushing. Maybe it’s just the heat…(yeah, right)..?
“But without that prep on Monday, I sincerely doubt you’ll have any kind of deep satisfaction.”
We go on to talk of other things but that nugget has been planted. It’s time to pound the pussy and I’m laying there, determined to prove Him wrong. (why do we do that?) And I’m looking at porn and just not…feeling that same….driving need.
And I fantasize, and I come…about two quarter sized drops.
Last time I had an orgasm (last week)…I had a ginormous ssquirty thing…(and I have pictorial proof, too!). But last night, I really was doomed to be disappointed.
Damn that Man!
PS. I spent all day today being uber turned on, thinking about this. How fucking weird. *shaking my head*