Back in the early days of M and nilla, we met almost every month for the first year. It was a time of hot needs, of getting to know one another, of rushed visits between needing to be other places, of kneeling in restaurants and not caring, of the joy of wearing his collar, and the excitement of picking out outfits…
It was all so new for me. Being a submissive…discovering the words for the feelings and erotic fantasies I’d been having for so much of my life. It was as much about discovering who I was, as it was about discovering how to please Him.
Of course, eventually the new wore off, as it does. We started to have playtime less frequently… every other month, every 9 or 10 weeks…and now, two old farts that we are, we’re lucky to meet up 3 times a year. This fall will mark our ten years together. Almost a decade, FFS!!
And it sucks that we don’t have the same “gotta get together” vibe that we once did. I’m pretty sure my need for him has not burned lower than it was at the start. Would I still meet him monthly if the opportunity arose?
Real life, however, has other plans. Back then my kids were tiny toddlers. Now they’re well on their way to young adulthood, and their needs have grown as well. Not the constant care of them, not like before, but in the needing to be places and often in divergent area’s…which means less free time for all of us. Free time is a bygone entity, at least for now. Added to that, that I now run my own little business, AND still work for someone else (which means I’m pretty much working somewhere every day of the week)…it definitely shorts the available time *I* have. (And of course, it’s all about me, right? LOL!)
Add to the mix that Himself is pretty busy as well.
And fuck, we’re
old not younglings ourselves. That heated fire will still consume us whenever we meet, then leaves us laying in a contented smoldering glow. We cuddle. We laugh. We touch one another. It’s sometimes nice to just be. Together.
And there’s another factor as well.
You’ve perhaps heard the adage “If you want to keep moving, keep moving” ? I think it’s the same for my libido. Sure I masturbate quite a bit. But…these days it’s almost more about helping me sleep than it is about actually getting off. Okay not all the time, but many times.
So I fall into these…phases, I guess, where I have random and fleeting thoughts of D/s, of being beaten and used, but it’s up there in the same realm as my other fantasies. If it’s not really happening, my body tends to stuff it into a sleep sack and slot it away someplace.
I stop feeling the need.
And I wonder, is it a thing of growing older? is it a thing of being so busy that I crowd it out by necessity? is it a thing that because I can’t do it as often as I want, I *make* myself too busy to miss it?
Maybe…all of the above?
All I know for sure is that I am not getting “it” as much as I’d like to. And I think I don’t need “It” after I’ve gone time with out it. I convince myself that IT doesn’t really matter at all anymore.
Until I’m scrolling through my own photos and see the things he’s done to me over the years. Until I see the bruises, remember how they got there, and realize how damp my panties are. When I see this
taken a mere hour after I got home, and can still almost feel the insistent tap-tap-tapping of the wooden spoon on my tits, remember his fingers in my cunt, how he fingered me to several explosive orgasms as he sucked my nipples purple with bruises; oh yes, I remember.
Oh, those craven feelings, the want and the need and the oooohs and the Owwwwws and the flying and the bliss and the joy…that’s when I remember…
I still need IT.