Well Hello!

Something about summers impending end brings on a rush of “gotta do’s” that is near to overwhelming. Please, tell me you’re in the same boat! Between work and kids and home and this UNBELIEVABLE fucking heat (after a summer chock full of heatwaves galore and rains of biblical proportions)…July and August were just  wildly impossible months.

So now I’m trying, really making an effort, to be blogging more regularly. Life had taken on a certain kind of “overwhelming” during the summer, but I’m hoping September will bring some normalcy into the mix. And hey, we’re all hella busy these days, right?! But I’m aiming to sit and write during September, to finish that story, to reconnect with this side of me. After all, I’m not ONLY Vanilla-mom…I’m ripe, nasty, badness inside, too.

The M and I have been texting and talking…no meeting scheduled yet after our last falling through. Maybe something will happen soon, but I’m not holding my breath. At least we’re muddling onward, and throwing sexy jabs out here and there. I hate when my sexy goes on vaca without me! But it really takes just a few prompts from Himself to wing it back.

Take, for instance, a few weeks ago when we had our umpteenth heatwave. It was draining, and I was exhausted from it. He texted this one little thing and my gods it was so amazingly rejuvenating…

Nilla, take care of yourself…an exhausted slut is useless to me…

I’m not sure of all the mental why’s and wherefores, but wow, that just blammo’d right to my heart. I know. This submissive gene is certainly wired weirdly. His comment lifted my spirits for days, and made me take more care of myself–getting to bed earlier, for instance, and make sure I was getting enough fluids.

Then this week a really awful heat. I know you all who read in “normal hot” places might think it’s stupid, but when you live in the Northeast, you don’t expect to have so many days in the upper 90’s with humidty in the 70+ degree range. That’s Florida  weather, folks, not New England. And when it drones on. And on. And on? It messes up our brains. So I was moaning to him, and he was semi-moaning back to me. Not everyone up here has air conditioning, certainly not my old house, and not his either. It’s fans in the windows, and sweating. *nods sagely, and perhaps a bit martyr-like*

*grins*

Yeah, well we survived it and I can write about it with a smile because it’s over at damn last!! Anyway, He sent me a text yesterday when I was really blasted by the …you know…and it made me giggle and get up and get some Gatorade and re-hydrate.

So nilla, when you rubbed an ice cube on your nipples, did steam come out of your pussy?

*guffaws*

Yes, he asked me that. When I couldn’t even get up off the bed from my almost-heat-exhaustion state. And it made me laugh and grin when I got up to throw some ice in a glass and chug a glass of water and take a cool shower. I don’t like drinking ice water, normally, but hearing that ice clinking in my glass drew a cartoon picture in my head, and it was all I could do to not laugh out loud when I was done.

Small bits of kink in an otherwise vanilla-filled summer; but they serve as quick jabs to remind me that I am a slut, and I am His  slut, and that’s a really good thing. Even when it’s 987* outside. For reals. *

 

*might be a slight exaggeration

Here!

Kinda

sorta

Had to work out in my head about M and I…it’s been an emotional few weeks, so I’ve been quiet here. And I’m super busy with work just now, juggling, always juggling. If you have kids, you get the whole “summer camp” juggle..add in work, and family and pets and major huge house work..(expensive house work, to boot, sigh)…

and you have a slut with no free time except to eat, sleep, repeat.

M and I are okay. No play time, and I’m not going to go into all the particulars, just I was mad about it. Unjustly, but one cannot always control hurt and upset and anger…that’s what makes us human, after all.

So we have talked, and come back to equilibrium, and things are…steady. Are they improving…? No. Are they changing? NO. And they can’t, just now, for a plethora of reasons.

He wants more.

I want more.

We are both living in the wanting, with no way to make it happen.

Yes…some one or twenty of you may think “hmmm, if there’s all that much wanting, surely you can make it happen…?”

But we can’t. It is just the way the dice are rolling just now, and sometimes you just have to accept that it is what it is, and roll with it. With nearly 10 years under our belts, we’ve been up and down these twisted roads, and we always come out to the other side, strong and happy and resilient in our relationship. We aren’t in that first hot rush of lust. We’re in the settled but still needy stage of deep comfort. So, we will do as best we can, and when things work out, then we’ll be okay again.

Just wanted you all to know I’m still pumping air in and out of my lungs, and life continues to roll on. Maybe at some point I’ll have some time to sit, to write, and reconnect a bit with you all here.

Vanilla life is stuck to me like a latex catsuit. (I know there’s a zipper here someplace….)

Grumbles, I’ve Got ’em

It feels good when you start with a title like that (points to header), and can smile. Because I’ve already worked through most of what was making me feel grumbly/grumpy.

We don’t fight. We discuss. He doesn’t respond to angry texts or accusations or temperment. He’ll wait me out until I finally blow through it and feel bad and then we usually talk, not text, our way through it. I’ve learned that over the years, and really, things have gone along pretty smoothly overall in our more recent times.

But HE wanted to have playtime. HE initiated it, demanded that I find time in June. Uh…okay. I wanted it, I did. Juggling my schedule is always a challenge, since I work pretty much some of every day of the week. Which isn’t to say I can’t make it happen, it just takes planning.

So I did.

And when I gave him the date, He backpedaled. No other word for it, really. He had stuff going on. He had this. He had that.

Okay, I get it.

I do.

*sighs*

But man, it did seriously annoy me. I might admit that I threw my hands up in the air and said to myself, “fine, don’t make ME a priority. FINE.”

And realized that he might feel the same way when I can’t automatically reschedule my shit.

Man, being grownup sometimes sucks.  I so wanted to blame him. Fry him up on a platter and …I dunno. But…

I did tell him I was annoyed.

“I thought you were sick,” he says.

uhm. well. err…

Yeah. I am. Still. Fucking. Sick. (third time this year, wtf??!) 13 days but who’s counting, right? I can’t do anything physical without coughing my head off. Walk upstairs? Gasp. Cough. Die a little.

Okay.

That last bit may have been a little exaggeration.

😀

But I have been pretty damn sick, and I wasn’t taking that into account. In part because I haven’t talked to him in like…three weeks? (my fault, no voice for a week will do that, right?)

ANYWAY…before I go maundering off into sympathy land, we’ve…I’ve…worked through it. And back into a peaceful place. And he didn’t even have to yank me a little bit to get there, either. Sometimes I just build up these scenarios in my head.

“I’m too old.”

“I’m too fat.”

“I’m too …”

….for Him to be wanting me anymore.

FUCK THOSE TAPES!!

Why do they still play in my head? Why do I let them. NOTHING HAS CHANGED FROM HIS SIDE OF THINGS. He’d tell me if he was done. If he was over the D/s thing.

I know this because I did ask him that a month ago.

He wants me. Wants to hurt me, wants to be with me, wants to fuck me. He doesn’t care that I’m ten years older that when we met. That I’m round. That I’m short. That I’m anything other than me.

He likes me.

He maybe even loves me.

(You know He loves me.)

So, in and out of the dark place and quickly. Kicking my own self in the ass for being an ass. 😀

Grumble…over.

Oh, and one more thing. We have playtime scheduled. It’s July but that’s okay. I should be better by then. I want to be in excellent health when he beats the holy fuck out of me.

*smiles*

 

It’s still winter here and I have the blahs…

…but…I’ve been writing so that helps. Sexy stuff that makes me horny, and stories have begun appearing in my head again.

And M and I may have a playtime later this month. Cross your fingers because I need it badly. And so, I believe, does he.

Suddenly EVERYTHING is annoying me. I’m not finding solace in my work as I usually do, just annoyance. I’m not finding peace in most anything other than journaling, and that’s not a full time kind of thing, right?

I need it to really be spring. I need to be outside and puttering in the yard, and not being pent up in the house all the fucking time except when I’m going to work. I’m so frigging stir crazy it isn’t even funny. And dear gods, I need to be beaten and fucked to unconsciousness.

And it snowed again today, almost an hour after the weather guy said the snow wasn’t going to get us after all. LIAR! LIAR! Grrr!. Now, we’re not talking feet, and we’re not talking all day…okay it was most of the day…but peeps…the temp almost hit 40…39…so close, so close…and within an hour it had fallen back, and by evening, fallen even lower, back to 32. It should NOT be 32 during the day in the first week in April. It’s just so wrong.

Is it weird that I’m mad about it? I’m feeling…gypped. I’m feeling…mad. Really, pissy and grumbly and I have absolutely NO tolerance for it. Okay it’s pretty. Blah blah. It’s too damn cold, my heat is still running, and I had to take out the winter coat. Again.

Just. Stop. Being. Cold.

*bitch session over*

So, I’ve been writing. It’s hard because it comes in dribs and drabs, my free time. Between work, kids, pets, and yeah, kids…and all the little weird life-crisis’ that happen, from “omg I just dropped your favorite mug” to “uh, ma, I just sucked something up in the vacuum and it appears to be stuck up there” (in the poorly designed crook where it’s solid plastic and unable to be detached from the hose, of course).

Yeah, those kind of time sucks.

But the workaround is actually grabbing those free breaks of 5, 10, 15 minutes, and slamming a few words down. It helps me feel that I’ve accomplished something..not quite so much as finally getting the cat toy OUT of the frigging vacuum did (after -no shit- an HOUR of working on it), but close.

*grins*

So that’s my grumble on a Friday night. Happy weekend. And by damn I hope Spring pushes the damned polar vortex straight to hell.

Happy New Year!

Yeah, yeah it’s late blah blah.

I know.

But frankly? Relating back to my prior post, it’s been fucking cold up here. So cold, in fact, that I could NOT sit in my room and type because my fingers were hiding. And shaking. Or bundled up in mittens. In the house, peeps. And I know we are not alone in the c-c-cold…it’s been cold in a lot of places, I know it. Friends with frozen pipes in the mid-west. Friends  in the south dealing with snow and ice and freezing (for them) temps. And I have a beloved friend in Vermont who told me it had been double-digits below zero last weekend.

Think about that for a moment.

Double. Digits. Below. Zero.

That was the actual fucking AIR temperature.

I’m never moving to Vermont. Ever. I’m handling this cold–barely. But that is pure torture of a kind that would have me throwing out my safeword like the President throws out the opening pitch of the World Series. And then today came. It’s amazing! It’s WONDERFUL!  It’s 22* blissful degrees. Now, a few weeks ago, 22* would have evoked a shiver. Perhaps a delicate shudder. “Oh dear, it’s 22*, peeps…”

What a difference a week makes. After never even popping up close to 20 for a full seven days (we tied a record set one hundred years ago), today, many of us are in tee shirts. The woodstoves are quiet, the house heaters are actually able to go off for periods of time, and everyone is smiling.

Because it’s warm, doncha know?!

And you know what it means when it warms up after a cold spell in New England, right? It means snow is coming. Yup. It always, always works that way.  Freeze your asses off, and BOOM a snowstorm gets us back on track as far as temperature goes. (Mom Nature: “okay, I’ll warm you up…but it comes with a price…” )

So it’s not just a bit of snow. Not a “regular” storm. Nope.

It’s a nor’easter! (Bonus points if you read that in voice of the Wizard of Oz, “it’s a twistah!”). Make no mistake, though. We LOVE our nor’easters up here. Oh , we shudder and plan, and check for salt and the shovels. We grumble and gripe and “frigging snow..” and make sure all and sundry have been told

“didja hear it’s gonna snow??!”

and gear up the cars and all that..but deep in our Yankee hearts, we LOVE a big old snowstorm.

I’m no exception to that.

A day at home will mean time to write. Time to nap. Time to chill.

Ah. Yeah, that. “Chill”…

for after the storm? It’s going to get wicked cold. No, really.

WICKED. COLD.

Yeah, yeah, I know this is a sex blog. But it’s really hard to get all excited about sexy stuff when you have to wear three layers in your house because it is so damn cold. And tomorrow is HNT day…which means cold nips. Frozen nips. Tits with big ole goose bumps on ’em.  Hmmm…kinda makes me think of a story…and …okay, I can see there’s still some sexy stuff hidden in the deep, warm corners of my dirty little mind.

So now you have something to look forward to…a sexy little tale on the coldest day of the new year (maybe the coldest day all year with none to break it? One can only hope.)

Polish those shovels, pervie peeps, and I’ll be back. I have a sudden urge to write. And then…”nap”…hehehe.

 

 

 

 

Catching Up

Oh my!

It’s been a hectic few weeks, hasn’t it? This holiday rush thing is entirely too much to deal with on top of all the other LIFE things that are going on. I think I’ve replied to all my comments…I hate letting them go, but sometimes I only have 25 minutes to sit and bang out a story (see what I did there? LOL) and often I don’t even know what I’m going to write, I just know I need to make writing a few times a week a commitment, and so that’s where I’m at. My fingers start moving, and things pop into (out of?) my rather perverse imagination, and BOOM! I’m pretty blessed that I’m able to write that way. No outlines, no agonizing about what words to go where. I’m an off the cuff kind of person in real life, and that’s exactly how I write!

My babygirl has been sick and since I have taught my children to share, she decided to do exactly that. Oh, I tried to avoid it. I was supposed to luncheon and visit with Jz last weekend, and had to beg off because who wants to infect their friends at this time of the year (or anytime, really!)? And I wasn’t feeling really sick…until I was. Last week was kind of a blur, but thanks to the marvelous intervention of antibiotics, I’m well and truly recovered. Phew! I had no voice for several days, so I couldn’t even talk with M…which I hate. We’re pretty lax about texting one another, though we do it. But gosh I love the timbre of his voice. And the little witticisms that come from talking to him way more than when he texts. And some of the naughtiness that he’ll say but not think to write. So we’re both pretty happy my voice came back.

Except…

I’ve kinda lost it again.

OMG the Patriots vs Pittsburg tonight. It was a down-to-the-wire game, and the last 2 minutes were INTENSE. I was (for real) screaming my head off. Jumping up and down. Screaming some more.

Until, you know, I couldn’t even eke out a squeak. It’ll be better by tomorrow (i hope!) but it was worth it! (Go Pats!)

Have you noted the very few football posts this year? And me, a diehard Patriots fan? Tsk! Well, now you have tonights HOO RAH! at any rate.

img_9259

Have a great last week before Christmas, dear pervie peeps!

 

 

 

Grumble. Grumble.

I woke up grumpy.

Don’t you hate when that happens? The second I get up the kids are all over me about some thing or other, the dogs are clamoring to go outside NOW and I have to pee.

And it is humid, wet, drizzly outside.

Later, it clears enough to make it hot and humid. O joy, my least favorite thing. This summer it seems like, just when it cools down to comfortable levels, and is not humid, BLAMMO, we’re back in the soup. Honestly, I don’t know how all you all from the south can even stand it!! I feel all droopy, non-productive. I AM productive, it just feels like I’m slogging through mud. My hair hangs down my back, and even in a ponytail it sticks to me, and makes me hot. I’d cut it but Himself would *kill* me. It’s finally at a length where he can wrap it a few times around his hand. He loves that. Eventually it will need to be cut, a good few inches at that. And he usually lets me do it in the fall (otherwise I get headaches from the weight of it) when we don’t have as much time to see one another. We’ll see what He’ll let me do.

So I’ve been mopey and hot and uncomfortable and just out of sorts today.

Then I stop and think…maybe it’s….subdrop?

Can it?

Could it?

But … our playtime was weeks ago. Two, and two days…who gets subdrop that long after the event? My bruises have fully faded. I’ve had several hours of downtime to miss him. I don’t wince when I sit.

OH. MY. GAWD.

I’ve turned back into vanilla nilla.

GASP!!!

Quick, break out the whips ‘n chains! This slut needs help! (That’s some more hyperbole there, JZ!)

Upon really thinking about it, though, it isn’t impossible that I could be feeling the blues from our playtime being over. I rode the high of that a good 10 days. For 7 of them it hurt every damn time I sat. For the last three it was tender, but I could sit without holding back a gasp. Then I got busy, and have had a pretty full few days. So with some semi-downtime in the offing, it’s really a time to focus on how it was with Him, how it is without him. How my body yearns. How my brain is churning out little tales as I fall asleep at night. I’m turned on as I’ve ever been…but no place for it to go.

It’s weeks and weeks until our next time. It’s time enough for me to let the yearning build, and become accustomed to the feeling of neediness. When the subdrop morphs into mere wanting, rather than sadness at not having what I want, I know things have turned the corner. Tomorrow, if we follow the pattern of other subdrops, will be better. Today is “crisis” day, and things can only go up from here.

(That was not a euphemism for a hard-on, btw, despite how much I enjoy “things”  going up…hehehe!!)

Tomorrow is going to be a better day.

It will, because I’ll make it so. Even though I miss him. Even though I have no marks to touch. Even though the high has faded. So too has the low. Writing to you all about this has helped. Remembering the good time we had together pushes away the sadness.

But gods I’m so needy.

Lazy Tuesday

Okay, that title may be a bit of a misnomer. I don’t generally do lazy days. Okay, never. *eyeroll*

So grab a cuppa and let’s sit down for a bit of a chat, shall we? I rarely get to just sit and blab away at you guys. And do feel free to blab back at me. 🙂 I like these sort of informal conversational times, don’t you? And just now as the cold air and snow begin to arrive, I really need a hot cuppa.

I have the weather channel on in the background, watching the snow fall in DC, in Philly, in New York, heading up here to the Boston area in a short while. I like snow. But you knew that. I love the beauty of it.

IMG_6589Love the whole Ansel Adams image of it. The gray light of the sky, the dark of the branches, the “powdered sugar” dusting of the branches. That’s one of the things I like about Winter, that we can see to the heart of things…the tenderest twigs on the edge of branches, the birds and their nests. And when all is carefully delineated by that tracing of snow, it takes on an incredible, ethereal beauty. This is the tangle of treetops in my backyard, from our Saturday evening snow, by the way.

Spent some time reading on Tuesday. It’s always nice after a long weekend mostly away from my blog and you all who write blogs as well. When the family takes precedence and life is full of work and other vanilla tasks. So when I get time, I read much, but comment little. It’s bad of me, I know –because I love comments myself–but really it’s a matter of time. Do I stop and write to the writer, or spend what time I have reading like a crazy woman. Somedays I am all caught up on things and can take the time to write to you who inspire and awe me.

You all give me such good and naughty ideas. 🙂

I spent several hours updating Signed. It’s up there under my header (in the header? I dunno). It has all the new chapters, all the way to the end, but I’ve been doing some major editing, making sure that it has acceptable grammar, that the tenses are correct, that there is good flow between scenes. I’ve added bunches of details (now that I know the ending, *giggle*) and new dialogue bits and added approximately a thousand or so words to the 25,000 of the original tale. If you pop over to read it, I’ve only finished through chapter 8—and if I recall correctly, there’s a duplicate chapter in there someplace, and some notes that I made when dropping them into the blog. It’s all “housekeeping” sort of stuff, in a bloggy sense. 🙂  Eventually I’ll work my way through the whole thing and will let you know. I’m considering sending it someplace. Don’t know if they’ll publish something that was blogged, but who knows. As I say, I’m *thinking* about it. It’s not really long enough for a whole novel…but if it’s liked I could add more chapters and more details. 🙂 Just …yanno…thinking out loud while I drink tea with you, my friend.

Tomorrow is “pay-off day” for my bet with fiona. That should be fun, eh? I know I’ll get a kick out of it. Oh, and don’t you know a commercial with Peyton Manning just came on the tv while I was writing this? LOL. Damn the man!

I know Mick over at UCTMW loves to ball-bust Tom Brady, but at least he (Tom) is likeable;  my feelings about PM are that he’s kind of an asshole. Amiright?  (and okay,  Mick is likeable too–except for the whole Tom Brady ball-busting bit…*laugh*)  There is just something about Peyton…and it goes way beyond confidence. (and slides right on into arrogance…)

Ah, football. Gotta love these friendly rivalries, don’t we? Anyway, tune in tomorrow to see the Bet –paid in full, m’dear fiona. 🙂

Keep warm my pervie friends. I’m hoping to get to some new writing this week–we’ll see what the rest of the week deals out. Until tomorrow, my pervie friends, it’s time to wash out your cup, and head on into our day! Don’t be a stranger!

~nilla~