It's funny how a relationship changes over time. When we started out it was all sweetness and light and "oh-my-gawd-I'm-so-in-love-with-you." Our love transcended day-to-day normalcy. It made every day special. We couldn't get enough of each other, physically or emotionally or mentally. We delighted in little surprises and planned for big ones. We made a big production of sexual discovery. Together we bought toys and lubes and sexy underwear for each other.
It was all new to us. We loved it. We reveled in it. We had both been so fucking miserable in our last relationships that we were continually astonished at how good this was.
Then I started noticing we don't really talk. We don't have those long discourses over dinner about the future or the kids or ....
i'll have to come back to this - it's too depressing...
1.30.2007
1.19.2007
Yahtzee! Part Deux
"If you get a Yahtzee, you get a spanking"
I got a Yahtzee. So did he. So she spanked us both.
She went so easy on me. I know she did.
She/we DIDN'T go so easy on him. He likes it that way.
Then she piped up "You wanna do me?"
OF. COURSE.
She bent over the ottoman and I pulled her sweats down to reveal the creamiest, softest piece of ass I've ever experienced. I ran my hands all over it marveling at how silky her skin feels. All over, up and around her cheeks, down the back of her thighs, lightly running my fore finger up her crack, secretly thrilled to the core at how naughty I was being by going there.
I caressed her with the leather strap and my hands, alternating light pats with rubs. Her ass was cold, her skin cool to the touch. I meant to warm it up. I took a pass with my hand, the strap and then WHAP! I gave her a good crack. She moaned and I gave her another on the other side. I felt her melt a bit into the ottoman, a release of tension that ran out after her tensing in reaction to the sting. I kept at it. A few light taps...tap, tap, tap, tap, WHACK! She likes it a few times in the same place. I obliged. After I had worked her over - just a bit mind you really - I dropped the strap and started using both hands to feel her skin now. A bit warmer. Hmmmm...I felt the very slight rises in her skin where the strap had made contact. Her ass is so fucking soft I am compelled to rub my face on it, to feel the difference between the heat of the contact points and the contrasting coolness of the rest. She groaned deeply as my hair ran across her exposed skin. I reveled in the feeling of skin on skin. Velvety warm/cold expanses of bare skin, I was in heaven.
I sat back up and started in with my hands. Rubbing, running my hands up and down and around, then WHACK! I didn't hold back. There is only so much one can do with one's hand since it feels the pain too. I raised my handprint on her ass clearly in more than one place. When she squealed too loud, I would stop and give that particular welt a big sloppy wet lick then blow gently along the wet path. Then back to the rubbing, looking for cool spots that still needed attention. I NEEDED to feel that skin on my cheek again; I ran my face all over her. I stopped and nipped in places, carefully minding my biting. I really wanted to chomp her, eat her up, roll around on her, dive in and feel this all over.
Oh man...I'd do that again anytime.
I got a Yahtzee. So did he. So she spanked us both.
She went so easy on me. I know she did.
She/we DIDN'T go so easy on him. He likes it that way.
Then she piped up "You wanna do me?"
OF. COURSE.
She bent over the ottoman and I pulled her sweats down to reveal the creamiest, softest piece of ass I've ever experienced. I ran my hands all over it marveling at how silky her skin feels. All over, up and around her cheeks, down the back of her thighs, lightly running my fore finger up her crack, secretly thrilled to the core at how naughty I was being by going there.
I caressed her with the leather strap and my hands, alternating light pats with rubs. Her ass was cold, her skin cool to the touch. I meant to warm it up. I took a pass with my hand, the strap and then WHAP! I gave her a good crack. She moaned and I gave her another on the other side. I felt her melt a bit into the ottoman, a release of tension that ran out after her tensing in reaction to the sting. I kept at it. A few light taps...tap, tap, tap, tap, WHACK! She likes it a few times in the same place. I obliged. After I had worked her over - just a bit mind you really - I dropped the strap and started using both hands to feel her skin now. A bit warmer. Hmmmm...I felt the very slight rises in her skin where the strap had made contact. Her ass is so fucking soft I am compelled to rub my face on it, to feel the difference between the heat of the contact points and the contrasting coolness of the rest. She groaned deeply as my hair ran across her exposed skin. I reveled in the feeling of skin on skin. Velvety warm/cold expanses of bare skin, I was in heaven.
I sat back up and started in with my hands. Rubbing, running my hands up and down and around, then WHACK! I didn't hold back. There is only so much one can do with one's hand since it feels the pain too. I raised my handprint on her ass clearly in more than one place. When she squealed too loud, I would stop and give that particular welt a big sloppy wet lick then blow gently along the wet path. Then back to the rubbing, looking for cool spots that still needed attention. I NEEDED to feel that skin on my cheek again; I ran my face all over her. I stopped and nipped in places, carefully minding my biting. I really wanted to chomp her, eat her up, roll around on her, dive in and feel this all over.
Oh man...I'd do that again anytime.
1.12.2007
Yahtzee!
It's cold outside. Really cold. No, I mean like really cold.
6 months ago it was 70 degrees warmer than it is right now. Factoid.
Did I mention I'm addicted to Yahtzee? That the man and I play EVERY night?
The other night he was rolling hawt. Really hawt. No, I mean like really hawt. It pissed me off.
The next day I sent him text messages. Naughty ones. Text messages telling him I wanted to spank him hard. Really hard. No, I mean like really hard.
Then I got wound up. I was texting him this:
... I want to spank you hard
... I'm gonna find our leather switch
... I'm gonna push you up against the wall as soon as we get in the door.
... I'm gonna make you push your jeans down around your ankles.
... then tell you to put your hands high on the wall
... if you move them you get more
... I'm gonna spank your ass HARD
... until it's all red and glowy
... you're going to count each one out loud
... you get one lash for each fucking Yahtzee you score including those from last night
... and I'm counting every Yahtzee you get between now and when the kids are gone too
... when I'm done, I'm going to get out the lube
... I'm going to lube your sensitive hole and drive you crazy
Yahtzee count = 13 Days to go = 2
6 months ago it was 70 degrees warmer than it is right now. Factoid.
Did I mention I'm addicted to Yahtzee? That the man and I play EVERY night?
The other night he was rolling hawt. Really hawt. No, I mean like really hawt. It pissed me off.
The next day I sent him text messages. Naughty ones. Text messages telling him I wanted to spank him hard. Really hard. No, I mean like really hard.
Then I got wound up. I was texting him this:
... I want to spank you hard
... I'm gonna find our leather switch
... I'm gonna push you up against the wall as soon as we get in the door.
... I'm gonna make you push your jeans down around your ankles.
... then tell you to put your hands high on the wall
... if you move them you get more
... I'm gonna spank your ass HARD
... until it's all red and glowy
... you're going to count each one out loud
... you get one lash for each fucking Yahtzee you score including those from last night
... and I'm counting every Yahtzee you get between now and when the kids are gone too
... when I'm done, I'm going to get out the lube
... I'm going to lube your sensitive hole and drive you crazy
Yahtzee count = 13 Days to go = 2
1.09.2007
I want to get married.
I want to but I don't want to at the same time. I'm ambivalent. I didn't used to be. I was god damned sure I was going to marry this man and we were going to live happily ever after.
Now I'm not so sure. He keeps telling me he loves me - every day in fact. And that I'm hawt and cute.
But you know that whole "Actions speak louder than words" thing? Yeah, that's the one that's starting to hold me up.
Which makes me doubt, which turns me off, which shuts down one avenue of connecting (sex), which leads to people being snippy and/or cold, which leads to me thinking he's fucking stoopid.
I want to but I don't want to at the same time. I'm ambivalent. I didn't used to be. I was god damned sure I was going to marry this man and we were going to live happily ever after.
Now I'm not so sure. He keeps telling me he loves me - every day in fact. And that I'm hawt and cute.
But you know that whole "Actions speak louder than words" thing? Yeah, that's the one that's starting to hold me up.
Which makes me doubt, which turns me off, which shuts down one avenue of connecting (sex), which leads to people being snippy and/or cold, which leads to me thinking he's fucking stoopid.
1.03.2007
Happy New Year?
I'm at home on bereavement leave. My father died three days after Christmas. I just met him last year...well not last year because now it's next year but last, last year.
He and my mom divorced when I was just a wee one. (3? I think?) He chose to be the non-existant type. My mom NEVER talked about him, ever. She remarried when I was five and I consider that man my father, my dad, my man to compare all men to.
Fast forward to my 38th year, I get an e-mail out of the blue. I've remained close to my grandmother, his mother, my entire life. I told her right after I got my taxes back that I'd be out to see her with the kids in tow. She lives in the middle of no where and there ain't much to do. The plan was to spend a day or two at the amusement parks (along the scale of which we just don't have around here) and then drive out to see her for a couple of days. 'Lo and behold, a quick little electronic missive and I was suddenly faced with not just a week alone with my kids on the road (so to speak) but to meet my father face to face? Ack!
I pulled up in the rental car after driving three hours and the first thing out of his mouth is "You're late!"
Jeebus - really? Really?
"You've waited this long, another couple of minutes isn't going to kill you," was my reply.
But things actually went a bit better after that and I even saw him again that summer when my SO and I went back for a convention near-by. That Christmas when I called my grandma, she was all broken up because he had collapsed, thinking he was having a heart attack. It turned out to be a tumor in his throat. And then another one on his esophogus. And it turned out to be terminal. And in the space of one year, I met the man and lost the man.
The kids and I, we all have his dimples.
He and my mom divorced when I was just a wee one. (3? I think?) He chose to be the non-existant type. My mom NEVER talked about him, ever. She remarried when I was five and I consider that man my father, my dad, my man to compare all men to.
Fast forward to my 38th year, I get an e-mail out of the blue. I've remained close to my grandmother, his mother, my entire life. I told her right after I got my taxes back that I'd be out to see her with the kids in tow. She lives in the middle of no where and there ain't much to do. The plan was to spend a day or two at the amusement parks (along the scale of which we just don't have around here) and then drive out to see her for a couple of days. 'Lo and behold, a quick little electronic missive and I was suddenly faced with not just a week alone with my kids on the road (so to speak) but to meet my father face to face? Ack!
I pulled up in the rental car after driving three hours and the first thing out of his mouth is "You're late!"
Jeebus - really? Really?
"You've waited this long, another couple of minutes isn't going to kill you," was my reply.
But things actually went a bit better after that and I even saw him again that summer when my SO and I went back for a convention near-by. That Christmas when I called my grandma, she was all broken up because he had collapsed, thinking he was having a heart attack. It turned out to be a tumor in his throat. And then another one on his esophogus. And it turned out to be terminal. And in the space of one year, I met the man and lost the man.
The kids and I, we all have his dimples.
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