Random nonsense, buttplugs and writing. Oh, and brussel sprouts.

So, yeah. Here it is the (almost) beginning of the week and I am looking at my schedule for the next few days, and thinking about writing, and feeling both excited (yay, writing!) and guilty (how the fuck did I lose three straight days off work without writing? Or exercising. Or crocheting. Or, really, ANYTHING I had planned to get done??!??)

My bed is soooo seductive. Especially when nighttime in my bed has been rather sucky, what with that whole “Nope, not gonna sleep til, like, 3 a.m. Or maybe 4. Yeah. 4 a.m. seems a reasonable time to go to sleep.” I know, I know, if I didn’t sleep all day I wouldn’t be awake all night. But I swear it started the other way around. “He started it!” But okay. Here we are.

Where we are, by the way, is a Tuesday evening when it was too cold for Ad to feel like venturing out to see me, so I have an unexpected night to myself (V was over last night.) I am on my second glass of chablis and I am waiting for the brussel sprouts, apples, onions and pecans I am roasting in the oven to finish cooking. The smells coming from my kitchen are heavenly.

What do I want to write tonight? Here’s what I have on deck:

Wicked Wednesday – Explore

Kink of the Week – Panties

Menstruation Matters (a new meme by asubtobee)

The Erotic Journal Challenge – Dirty Talk (another new meme by Brigit Writes I’ve started dabbling in)

There are some other memes to write to, though I can’t place my fingers on them right now. And of course, there’s sexy fun that V and I have been getting up to lately – along with some good, solid, relationship-building. I feel like, in some ways, we have settled into the sophomore year of our relationship. Not that our relationship will only last four years, no, but this is the year when you’ve gotten over the craziness of the freshman year, weathered the upheavals, trials and tribulations of years 2-3, and landed (somewhat) solidly in year 4 (I know, I know, doesn’t correspond to college but fuck it, I never did college right either.) I feel like…”Okay, made it this far, it seems like a thing worth having…nope, not going away, in it for the long haul so best get used to me.” And me to it.

That’s fucking scary at times. And can also be…challenging…because the…connections…engendered are not always ones I’d have chosen for myself. But that’s poly for you. Kinda like blood relations, you know? You didn’t choose them but you’re stuck with them, and for that reason you’ll do your damnedest to make things work out right.

Of course maybe that comparison doesn’t really work…I’ve left family behind that were damaging to my emotional health. But whatever…let’s try to keep this on a positive note.

On a positive note, last night, in a text to V as he was on his way here:

Waiting for you to arrive…

And then, because I was feeling a little…playful…

Also waiting for you.

I’m not one that needs to separate vanilla from kink space, at least in terms of what we know privately about each other. I am all about guerrilla kink. I am also very in favor of not just doing kink at the prescribed time, you know, once-per-night, after the vanilla stuff is over. Why can’t we do pre-vanilla play and post-vanilla play? V’s a little hard to sell on that. I think it was easier for W because he really lived it with me. There was no line between who we were in private and who we were during vanilla times: he just made sure that only he and I knew about it. Which was sharp and sweet and sometimes painful and occasionally challenging and embarrassing. But I never ever forgot who we were together, whether we were at home in his dungeon or out to dinner or a movie. But like I said, that’s not usually how V’s mind works. Still…I miss that bit of nonsense. Of clandestine play.

So yeah, I asked for it.

I greeted him at the door naked, kneeling with a drink in my hand. This is our ritual way of greeting at my house, tho it shifts a little if the roommate is home or has company. She was home, so a little awkward with her dog yipping at his heels and the TV blaring, but you make do, right?

And this time (having asked for it) I had the njoy in my ass.

We headed upstairs for me to get dressed. He teased me by making me use Baldy on its highest setting, kneeling before him, njoy still there, but without allowing me to come. I wanted to swallow him whole, but was only allowed to nuzzle him thru his jeans, and then we got dressed. As we got ready to leave, I once again asked for what I wanted, pointing to the cane and asking for some stripes before we headed out. He obliged, and we left with me having a nice warm bottom.

Dinner was had – the njoy still snug in my ass. I was kind of proud that I had kept wearing it, given that he had given me lots of outs with it. But by the time we got home, he let me take it out, and proceeded to use a flogger and my new whip on me, and it was heavenly. Oh, and then there was cock-sucking.

Because whips.

And cock.

Okay so, brussel sprouts are done, and I am going up to bed to try to sleep. I had asked permission for an orgasm tonight, and he had assented, as long as I worked a punishment for an earlier infraction into it: I to use one of my large buttplugs in getting off.

I’ll have to let you know later if that happens. ;-)

 

 

 

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