It was supposed to happen LAST Sunday. But I had to call Him, and postpone. I’ve been sick for what feels like forever. Bumping into the edge of pneumonia, the recovery process was not at all quick, and two rounds of antibiotics later, I’m finally coming out of the dark tunnel that I’d crawled into. I even had a few days of no work, and a few of light work.

The hardest part was knowing that I had to call Him. I left it in his hands, of course, but he’s always been very careful with sickness. Not just that he doesn’t want to get it (grins), but he wants me to be in good shape before he beats the shit out of me. I’m paraphrasing, but only a little bit.

I do like that about him.

So I’m tiptoeing into the telling –it’s supposed to happen soon, our meeting. Now that he knows I’m really almost better, we can entertain the thought of entertaining one another…him by beating the living shit out of me, and me with taking it (and okay, loving it.)

(Mind you, I’m actually feeling a bit nervous about it…it’s been over a year since our last play. Seriously. 13 months. My painslut is not only out of practice, she might have left the village.)

So cross your fingers for me, peeps. I’m going to need all the help I can get to make this happen!


3 thoughts on “Tiptoe…tiptoe…

  1. Hoping for the best. Just imagining you in a waist cinch-er tiptoeing across the floor with your wonderful breast swinging free going to get your ass beat. It is quite a picture in my mind. Tip

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