After being gone for just two days (I know, I know, I made it seem like we were apart forever), I finally made my way home last night. A rushed dinner was followed by story time and bedtime kisses, then the kiddos were tucked into bed and encouraged to fall asleep.
If you’re looking for my Vibra King review, click here.
Okay. See this box, the one right below here.
Well you’ll never guess what’s inside it.
A vintage Vibra King massager. Not sure what a Vibra King is? Check out this Red Tube video or watch it below to be enlightened. Go ahead, do it now. I’ll wait.
It was supposed to be an all-night euchre tournament.
Instead, it was a pool tournament, a few hands of euchre, Cards Against Humanity, and a half a gallon of Captain Morgan.
By 2 a.m., we decided it was time to look for a bedroom, before the rest of the party took all the decent places to sleep.
Although I love getting new toys, the plug I received this month from Cal Exotics sat for almost a week without making its way to our bed.
This evening, before dinner, I mentioned to M that I needed to review it tonight. So after homework and showers and goodnight kisses, we finally made it upstairs to our bedroom. And yet there I sat, not moving towards sex or sex toys or passion of any sort.
We were still only roommates then, sharing space and meals, occasional teases and flirts. Getting ready to go out for the night, I remember saying to Jess, “If it doesn’t work out tonight and I don’t fuck him, I’m done trying.”
Saturday night, M and I had a few drinks, hanging out together in the living room
while he watched television and I read blogs. I had a few new toys that needed reviews, including these “Pleasure balls.” These babies weigh in at a hefty 11 oz, and blew my Lelo Luna Beads out of the water.
So I’m not sure what got me thinking about this, but I seem to remember jotting down this title the morning after punishment with the belt. I don’t really like the belt. Not much at all. It hurts, and not in the way I like. The thud of a flogger, love it. The sting of bamboo, love it. The smack of a hand, well, you get the picture. But the belt… fuck, I don’t really know, but it makes me want to punch the bed and scramble away and cry and scream and curse at Sir for making it hurt so bad when I damn well know that he can make it hurt soo0 much more.
There are a few different reasons that I’m compelled to write this post… First and foremost, now that the drama of my first date with Paige has faded, I’ve come to realize a few thing that I really fucked up. *deep breath* Therefore I’ve got to hold myself accountable for that. And then second, I need to stand up for my Sir, not that he really needs me to, but I feel the need to defend his right to do what he did, and why, had he not, things could have ended up so much worse.
So last Friday was the first time I texted with the girl I’m going out with this coming weekend. We chit-chated throughout the day while she was running errands and into the evening.
Later that night, once I was snuggled up to M in bed, I get a text: “U still up?”
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
I never thought I’d be into forced orgasms; hell, I cum all the time as it is, why force it? Well… after last night, I have become enlightened.
Sir and I were in bed, and we’d played, and we’d fucked, and we were playing some more. I’d already cum literally about 20 times and soaked two different areas of our bed. M took a break and went downstairs to the bathroom. Alone in our room, I reached over and picked up my Wand and my Cush. I know he loves to watch me masturbate, so I thought I’d be ready for him when he returned.
**A bit of back story** I had a uterine ablation performed two days after Christmas on December 27th. For those of you that don’t know, an ablation consists of a DNC (where they scrape the inside of the uterus) and then a cauterization, which in turn burns the freshly raw skin. The procedure is relatively minor, and since the girl that was scheduled before me at the hospital didn’t show due to a massive snow storm that hit the northeast, I was actually in and out of surgery, and awake before my procedure was even scheduled.