In a strange twist of events, Sir now wants to identify primarily as my Daddy. If I ever get around to explaining what’s happened since Thanksgiving, this might make a little more sense.
daddy
The weird fact that gifs like these make me feel nostalgic.
I just noticed the tags on this (#thinkivykink in particular) and you are very, very mean.
In late October, I called up Sir and asked him if I could have sex with Pup. We’d had a few difficult conversations about it, and I was a little nervous to be sleeping with somebody who wasn’t him without him around. Previously, in our non-monogamous arrangement, the sex I’d had with other partners was right in front of him. This was going to be different and strange and maybe awesome but definitely a big leap of faith on both of our parts into a new area of our poly.
We had a lot of talks that made me feel like I was running into a wall, then ones that felt like progress but quickly petered off into difficulty. I often felt guilty asking for this when Sir and I had our own issues to deal with regarding his move and how that would affect our relationship. He was dealing with his own associated problems with the move independent of our relationship, and so I felt impossibly greedy asking to take this step.
But, when the conversation of “hey, can I do this with Pup on this very specific date?” came up, Sir was surprisingly receptive. Maybe it was the fact that he had started to express an interest in getting more physical with some of his partners – we often are most lenient with each other when we’re both having our needs met – or maybe I had managed to successfully convince him that I was sure that this was what I wanted.
“Are you asking me for permission to fuck that boy, sweetheart?” He asked me on the phone. He was using that tone of voice he uses when he plays Daddy.
I blushed and even though he wasn’t in front of me, I looked at my feet. “Uh huh.”
“Are you going to use a condom?” He asked.
“Uh huh.”
“Well, you’d better be a good girl and show him that I taught you well,” he said. “You’d better be a good little fuck.”
Sweetheart’s the kind of girl whose Daddy ends up getting a call pretty early on in the playdate.
Halfway There, Part One
My Daddy suggested I wear pigtails.
“Trust me,” she – a reigning queen of rocking the pigtails – said, “they’ll love them.”
I was going to spend the evening hanging out and playing around with Flint, Lida and Macy. While I’m used to people running a little late, I’d started to learn that not only was Flint on time for essentially everything, he was actually usually early. So, pigtails totally made sense when I saw I was starting to cut it a little close.
I was already in Flint’s car when I got another text from Daddy asking for a picture. I blushed a little explaining to him that I had to take a picture for my Daddy, before pulling out my phone to take a picture to send along to her.
Since I hadn’t eaten, I asked Flint if we could stop on the way to Macy’s place so I could get a burrito. (I’d had a rough day, cut me some slack.) To minimize the wait time for said burrito, I took out my phone to call the place ahead of time so I could just swing in and pick it up.
Naturally, this turned into Flint reaching over while he was driving and tickling me as I attempted to keep myself composed enough to place an order.
“You know people who take orders over the phone have to deal with that a lot,” Flint said when I finished the call. “Except he probably thought you were getting fingered or something.”
I huffed, keeping my arms crossed protectively over my torso until we reached the restaurant to pick up my burrito.
“I like your pigtails,” Flint said as we walked towards the door. “I’m looking forward to pulling on them.”
I gave him a thumbs up. “Mission accomplished.”
Here’s why posts like this (and other “kids these days *shakes fist* ” type sentiments) rub me the wrong way:
Do you know why our parents/grandparents/etc stayed together? BECAUSE THEY HAD NO OTHER OPTIONS! They lived in a time when divorce was against their religion or frowned upon by their culture. One of my great-grandmothers divorced her cheating alcoholic bum of a husband and was literally shunned from her entire small European village. She had to take her daughters (who she was protecting) and move, and in their new town they just told everyone her husband had DIED to avoid the negative stigma of divorce. And you know what? I bet she would have LOVED the opportunity to have messages from 7000 followers saying “go girl” and “you can do this” and “your hair looks cute” when she was going through her darkest days.
The number of couples that were stuck in abusive, loveless or unhappy marriages is staggering. The number of couples NOW stuck in abusive, loveless or unhappy marriages is also staggering. Divorce is a good option for a lot of people. (So is not getting married in the first place… but that’s a different rant.)
Yes social media can be addictive and detrimental to anyone (coupled or not) who ignores their real life partner(s) in favour of online connections, but the same can be said for ignoring your partner for work, sporting events, candy crush, fantasy football leagues, video games or any number of things. A relationship can only be successful if it is given the attention and maintenance it deserves. A relationship of any kind requires your presence.
I (like so many of you) have found meaningful and loving relationships with friends and partners online and I really detest rhetoric that tries to say online relationships can’t have depth and purpose.
In fact I come from a long line of women who could have benefited from looking around and seeing that there were PLENTY of fish in the sea.
*steps off soapbox and swims by winking at you and waving my fishy fins glub glub*
Hey, ah….Daddy?
God damn.
Yes.
Definitely getting a suit.
Um yes totally unbiased opinion clearly but yes get a suit yes very good yes.