Sir is drunk and sending me this stream of motivational texts about how I’m going to be a MILF one day but that I still need to live life to the fullest and then suddenly goes “ok good night.”
I think I picked a good one.
relationship
I remember this time last year: dropping him off for his flight at an ungodly hour of the morning, coming home and curling up with the jacket he left here. I remember how scary and uncertain everything felt.
I just got home from dropping him off for yet another unreasonably early flight. A lot of stuff still has some time to withstand, but I’ve learned we’ve got a pretty good track record for that.
Please bear with me for a few days while I gather myself after what was a lovely visit. I’ll finish Halfway There and get you all caught up very soon. I promise.
But, for now, I’ve got to get back into bed and remind myself that I’ll see him soon.
I miss Sir. A lot. Like, all the time.
And the situation is only made worse by the fact that he has his own work/family crap to deal with and I’m suddenly becoming more of the submissive I want to be right when he’s stuck handling all of that. I wish I could be able to show him in person how good I can be and how proud I can make him.
I realized tonight that I had done wrong by him a lot early on in my submission to him. In trying to cope with my own shame, I wound up shaming him for a lot of the things that he asked for. I told him stuff was ridiculous or “too porny” when it was honestly something I liked, but I was scared of admitting to myself that I wanted. As a result, he’s totally reticent about actively dominating me and letting me be totally passive to him, as opposed to pre-negotiating every detail of a scene.
I apologized to him, but I still feel awful about it. I feel terrible about shaming him and how it’s now left him feeling really awkward as my dominant. Hopefully, he’ll be able to visit soon and I’ll be able to demonstrate to him that I’m not going to fall back on things like that anymore. But I still just feel horrible for having made him feel like he couldn’t articulate his fantasies without being made to feel ashamed.
Ugh, it’s so hard to admit when you’ve just plain, old, black and white fucked up. And it’s even harder when I have to wait to make it better.
I stayed up late last night talking to Sir about a really dark, scary fantasy I’ve got. And it wasn’t even that he reciprocated interest in it that got me, it was the fact that he was patient and affectionate about it. He reassured me that, yeah, I’m a little sick, but it’s in a good way and these fantasies are perfectly okay within the context of a consensual, respectful, loving relationship, where eventually the “scene” stops and there’s plenty of aftercare.
Have I mentioned that I have the best owner ever?
Lately, he and I have gotten better at meeting each other in the middle.
The last time we had sex before I left, I did some of the things he liked. I talked in the third person, calling myself “this slut” and “your girl.” I let him go harder than usual, not just respecting the different things he liked, but embracing them. He fucked me until I was totally sore. I’ve never seen him cum that hard, ever.
As a result, he’s been opening up to some of the gentler things I like. He let me sit on his lap while he brushed my hair. He’s been letting me get kind of Little when we talk and I sense him even enjoying it.
I can feel us sort of settling into this thing with each other where it’s becoming less of this is for you and this is for me and more of us finding this place where it’s just us doing us.
This is the stuff I miss the most.
“It’s hard to communicate anything exactly and that’s why perfect relationships between people are difficult to find.” ― Gustave Flaubert, Sentimental Education.
Last night, for the first time, I watched Sir experience the sort of feelings I’ve been going to in facing our ethical non-monogamy.
When it comes to Daddy, Sir never has a problem. I’m not sure if it’s just that Daddy is a girl or that Daddy and I have been friends for a while, but Sir has always been encouraging and unintimidated about my relationship with her.
But, last night, Sir expressed that he wished I hadn’t stayed out so late with him, even if I was only out until 12:30. When he followed up by saying he might feel safer for me if he met the guy I was seeing, he stopped himself and decided he wasn’t sure whether or not he would actually want to meet him. As we talked, I saw glimpses of the jealousy and fear I had been experiencing with him.
And, as awful as that sounds, it felt great.
Sir sees two other girls besides me, though I am his primary partner, his girlfriend, etc. While I know what I mean to him, it is always difficult to be one hundred percent secure in my place in our relationship. I’m sometimes worried he’ll decide someone is better or that I could be replaced. And now to be the one in this position where I watch my boyfriend trying to figure out the security of his place in our relationship while I just sit back and enjoy is some selfish fun. It’s nice to feel sexy and desired and not the one worrying back at home.
What’s more, I’m hoping this will make us both more empathetic to each other’s concerns. I’m learning that yeah, just like I wouldn’t replace Sir with this guy, Sir won’t replace me. And he’s hopefully learning that my fears are not irrational at all.
When my date seemed totally unsalvageable, I made an excuse and ducked out. Within ten minutes of calling him, Sir picked me up.
We traded stories. I pffted and huffed that he had such a good time while I was stuck going out with a frumpy snoozer. He took me out for dessert and brought me home.
In bed, he tapped my collarbone and said, “this is my home base.”
I’m seeing Sir in a week, which I am so excited for.
We had a talk last night where we went over some of the tough stuff about distance and the state of the relationship. And one of the things we agreed on, oddly enough, was that we wanted to get to a point where finally seeing each other doesn’t just mean two or three days straight of sex.
So, we made some plans for this trip that involve doing stuff with our clothes on, like going on a double date with That Guy from My Frat and The Redhead.