We Were Arguing, I Was Wrong

But don’t tell anyone!

I have a vagina, which by definition makes me crazy sometimes. I don’t have a problem with admitting that fact. We were going back and forth in the truck tonight after dinner. Even my poor child asked us to stop fighting. (He doesn’t really know the difference between a fight, and a disagreement 🙂 ) That caused me to stop arguing, for the moment.

I knew that, he knew, that I wasn’t done. I wasn’t. After my son was in bed, and Jackson and I were hitting the night time routine, I started up again. I thought I was right. (Can someone tell him now that I am ALWAYS right?) Yet, when he finally got it through my thick skull, that I was wrong, I felt bad. I hate being wrong.

We were in bed, and I tried my hand at an apology. “I have no idea how you put up with me.”

“It’s a challenge.”

I smiled, “I’d say sorry, but then I wouldn’t be me, if I wasn’t challenging.”

He put his book on the night stand, “Never stop being you,” he said, turning to look at me.

“I won’t,” I said, moving to rest my head on his chest. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

I kissed his chest, and the rest, well I think you already know. . .

 

 

 

My Don’t Touch Me PJ’s

Last night after I finished washing the dishes and putting my baby boy to bed, I showered. Then I put on my “no touching” pajamas. I am not the only one that has these right? Ya know the granny looking flannel ones. They aren’t sexy at all. I was fully prepared, to spend the evening catching up on my TV.

When Jackson came to bed, he looked at me an grunted acquiescing to my nightwear. He respects my “don’t touch me pajamas” unless the alter ego shows, and then, well, I have no choice, that is a more rare occurrence than my grabbing my “no” pj’s. I think he just dislikes the idea of my “no” pajamas. Who knows…

I was in bed watching, he was in bed reading, an hour later he turned off his light, and kissed me good night. Mid Castle, and right before bed time, I decide to check my e-mail. Then I decided to write a post I’ve been meaning to write forever. At this point Castle has gone off, and I am halfway through the news. It is way time for bed. Then I check my reader. Mistake one, I am browsing, and reading, and then I come across this. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have clicked, but I couldn’t help myself. I get all excited whenever I see a new post on Ken’s blog, just because, well, they are always so good, and hot, very hot. The untitled series def, hot. So I click. Mistake two.

I get into my reads, esp the good ones, I put myself in the space of the writer, and there I am. This time I am feeling his tongue on my nipples, followed by his teeth sending ripples of pleasurable pain through me. I am hearing myself moan as he teases me  between my legs, licking, biting, sucking my inner thighs, torturing me with anticipation.

Aw Fuck! I did it again. I can see my nipples stretching the flannel tank top. I can feel the dampness between my legs. I finish reading. I am sitting in bed hot, and bothered, and to my right is a sleeping lover that will fix my newly gained problem. I really shouldn’t wake him up. I should really get some sleep. I am really wet. Maybe it will go away.

I finish watching the news, and the late night show. It hasn’t gone away. I look at Jackson again, I want him, right now. I resign to wake him, he will live. I finish another quick e-mail, bitching about my little predicament. Shut down my compy, and put it away. I divest of my “no pj’s” and climb back into bed. It would be much easier if he would sleep on his back. Ah well. I snuggle up behind, moving my hand under his arm, to his chest.

“Baby” I say softly, nudging him. No response… “baby I need Thor”

“odd grunting sound”

I plead with him, while moving my mouth to his neck, kissing him, “please”

“jamaz”

“They are gone.” I say, sliding my hand down his chest, past his abs, and into his boxers.

He shifted to his back, looking at me, still half sleep. I moved quickly, a hint of a smile came across his face. He nodded, raising his hips off of the bed pushing his growing cock into my hand.

“thank you baby, I will be fast, promise” I said moving down the bed. Quickly releasing Thor and taking him into my waiting mouth, sucking him to life.
Jackson’s hand moved to left hand, holding it, letting me know he was with me,  before a gasp escaped his lips, as I moved faster. Suddenly I dragged my teeth against him.

“mmFuck Sam!” sitting up on his palms. He glared at me, I smiled up at him.

Lifting my lips from his dick, “I need you awake.” I said softly, but before I could return Thor to my mouth Jackson had me on my stomach, my face, pressed into the pillow, and his lips against my ear.

“I’m awake.” he said, not so softly, nanoseconds later he slammed inside me from behind. My moans muffled by the pillow as he rammed into me, again and again, pulling my head up by my hair so I could breathe. Fucking my cunt so hard and as I promised, I was fast, the tingles came with the white lights, with the burst of fading colors as his teeth sank into my shoulder, sensations colliding, as he filled me.

Crap, I took a shower tonight so I wouldn’t have to take one in the morning. Ah well. Serves me right. I have to stop reading before bed.

Breathless

I thought about turning to some anonymous blog, but why do that, when I have all of you!

You know that moment when you are building, and building, and you are so close. Your breathing erratic, your mind is half way to some dark abyss of nothingness, and in that moment you are silently begging him with your eyes to let you come this time. Begging for him not to stop, ready to give your life for what you know will be seconds of seemingly unending bliss.

Then it begins, this cosmic burst of nerves, and pleasure, and good, so good, and you realize you can’t breathe. Your breath is caught somewhere in the back of your throat, caught somewhere in time. You want to breathe, but your body fights it, seemingly shutting down to feel every bit of THIS, every convulsion, every second of THIS, that seems to keep going, and going, with new sensations of cold, and hot, and tingles, and bright bright starry lights,  and you’re dying to feel air in your lungs again, but this feels so good, and suddenly you inhale so deeply you seem to lose your breath again,  because you can’t seem to get enough of it, you began hyperventilating, then his arms.

His arms are there around you, consoling you, bringing you back to equilibrium. His arm are there to bring you back to the here, and the now.  You cry. You cry because it is over, you cry because it happened, you cry because of what he can do to you, you cry because he possesses you, you cry because you are no longer your own person, you cry because you love him, you cry because you’d do anything to feel THIS again. You cry because you have no earthly idea how you got from the couch to your bed, or how long you’ve been here.

Ah, reason has returned. The tears have subsided, and his thumbs are wiping the last of them away. When you look at him, the look he gives you, that look that can only be seen in moments like these, that look that makes you love him that much more.  You kiss him, a kiss him full of reverence, gratitude, lust, but mostly love. This kiss, that moves you again, not to achieve THAT feeling, but just to be one with him again.

wait wait… that was not the point of this post, my goodness can I go on and on…

I am asking a question. Question is, has anyone ever fainted mid-orgasm?

I literally thought I was going to pass out from oxygen deprivation. I am used to being breathless for a few moments, but for some reason this time, it just seemed to go on forever. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining. I just wonder considering there was no breath play involved at all, if anyone has passed out… do tell.

Now that I’ve written, today is Tuesday, and I get to play by myself. mas

Missing my Dom

I was sitting in bed reading when he came in. He sat at the foot of the bed quietly taking his shoes off.

“You okay sweetie?”

“Tired,” he said shortly. I was suddenly ashamed of myself. I was watching the shirt come off of his shoulders. As he stood to drop his pants, I was staring at the muscles in his back. Ugh, he is tired, and his body is turning me on. When he sat back down folding his shirt, I moved to sit behind him. on my knees.

“I miss you,” I said kissing his neck, wrapping my arms around him.

“You had me this morning.”

“No, I mean I miss the other you. I miss my Sir, I miss my Dom.” He turned to look at me.

“He hasn’t gone anywhere. An appropriately timed hiatus.”

“I know but the hiatus is killing me, “I said pressing my teeth into his neck.

“Getting bored with vanilla?”

“No I like it all you know that, I just want all of you. Think of it as withdrawals, I am going through Dom withdrawals.”

“Hands and knees.” My heart began pounding instantly. I moved quickly to the floor assuming the instructed position. “Don’t make a sound.

I couldn’t hide the huge grin on my face as he lifted my night gown, and his palm came swiftly against my bare derriere.

Morning Quickie

This morning I had fifteen minutes to myself to just lay in Post Glow. As I relaxed coming down from my high I went to reflect mode. We have already made the shift from the couple without child, to the couple with child. He makes it difficult for me. With the glances, the tones, the texts, the e-mails, the caresses, the gropes, he tortures me with anticipation This morning’s quickie in the shower although rushed, did not lack passion.

This morning, a heady combination of stress relief and my desperate need to feel him inside me again. It had been far too long.Was it possible with the increase of responsibility our time together means that much more? I was pondering this, and how much I love that man when I heard the small knock on my bedroom door, my me time was gone.

30 Days of KINK ~Day 17

Day 17: What misconception about kinky people would you most like to clear up?

 

Boy O Boy did the bitch in me come out immediately with this prompt. It with something like this: “I don’t want clear up anything. They can think whatever the hell they want to think. ”

Now I will step down off of my high horse and give a more all encompassing response. I will re-state. I do not wish to clear up anything, because there is nothing to clear up.

Kinky people are perverts-Yes I am quite the perv. There are so many things I have to bite my lip at everyday at work, because I can turn almost anything into something sexual if I want.

Kinky people are nasty-Yes I am, and I love it, so does my man.

Kinky people are dirty- Agreed, in the sexiest way. I am one dirty filthy slut, and I love to be told so. Especially when I am kneeling at his feet, after a long day at work.

Hmm what else?

I can’t think of anything. So all in all. No misconceptions that I’d take my writing time to clear up.

 

Life Lessons

There have been quite a few, suggestions, instructions, words of wisdom per se, given to me over the years. There are three that have always stood out to me. Mostly because I have applied them in my life, and because I’ve watched what happens when one doesn’t apply them. I have come to the conclusion that in general, the women imparting their knowledge knew what the hell they were talking about.

I will share a few:

My mother always said “never let people know what goes on in your bedroom.”

My grandma used to say “if you have to get it in public, you aren’t getting it in private.”

Oprah said, although I think someone told this to her, “when someone shows you who they are, believe them.”

As far as what Mom said, sigh, for instance, See Jane Come, was partly fiction. The majority of the story however, was from a friend who shared a little too much information in my opinion on ladies night. Why do people find it necessary to invite others into their relationship? (I don’t mean in the lifestyle way) Just in general. I have found it is much better to keep a relationship in the confines of those involved. Otherwise you have problems.

A brief anecdote, if I may. Renee’s husband was stolen, or she gave him away, however you want to look at it. Why you ask?  Because l for one he wasn’t faithful. Mostly though, because Renee loved to tell everyone who would listen, how wonderful her husband was. Especially how wonderful he was in bed. Now, females are treacherous, this is a well known fact right? So while Renee was saying what a god her husband was. Jennifer, was thinking about what she wasn’t getting at home. Then, Jennifer wanted what Renee was getting at home. Now Renee isn’t getting her husbands cock, and Jennifer gets it on the regular.

This is why when I go to ladies night, I keep my mouth shut. I could go and on about the ooo so fucking amazing things I do with my man and my Dom(sometimes it is like being with two different men 😉 ). Yet, I don’t. Personally I find it much more satisfying to know that they all assume I am as vanilla as they come. I find it greatly satisfying to look at them and think to myself PUH-LEASE you guys don’t KNOW what pleasure is. Plus it simply isn’t anyone’s business.

Now about dear old Granny God rest her soul, Disclaimer: I’d just like to say the following does not apply to those who enjoy exhibitionism, or swingers, or other people in lifestyles, that practically require play in front of others.  What Granny said is sooo true. I know this thanks to various friends I serve as confidant to, and various ladies night, whether they be in or out.

For those couples who can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. You aren’t fooling anyone! Everyone understands the occasional slap on the ass. The occasional kiss that starts out a peck and deepens a bit until you realize your surroundings. That is fine, but for those who have their hands up a shirt or skirt, or down of pair of pants in front of the guests in your home. Or for those who like show off just how far a tongue can go down a throat, again, you aren’t fooling anyone. Let me tell you why.

People who are getting it on the regular, and are getting it good. We know self-control. Another hour hands off isn’t going to kill us, we just went all day. We know that when we get home, get in the privacy of a car, get somewhere we can just be us, it is on. That, and more than likely we can wait a bit until the soreness subsides.

Onto dear Oprah, I have used this principle in life all the way around. When it comes to boyfriends, classmates, workmates, bosses. Sometimes we like to pretend that we are so surprised when someone backstabs us. We like to act surprised, but really should we be. Usually the answer is no. People always show you who they are.

The best way to evaluate a persons true character is by watching how they deal with other people. If they are constantly starting rumors about other people, don’t think they won’t do the same to you. If they are constantly stabbing people in the back on the corporate climb, don’t think they won’t do the same to you. If they cheated on their other to get with you, what the hell makes you think they won’t do it to you. Sigh, the problem is that when they show us. We usually don’t believe them. Believe it!

There, a few life lessons, everyone can benefit from. I’ve done my good deed for the day.

That is for the day.