What is it they say about snakes in the grass?
rope
You can’t fault Sweetheart for trying.
I miss having opportunities to make myself useful.
The tender little thumb stroke on the cheek is everything to me.
I need this whole outfit.
Gag included.
I’d probably die a thousand times over if I had to look at myself getting eaten out which is why I kind of really want to do it sometime except not at all except maybe sure.
I love the delicate little lace blindfold in this.
It’s taken a lot for me to be able to admit to myself that I enjoy – and am worthy of – attention. I fall back so often upon fears of being demanding and anxiety over how much space I am allowed to take up in the world, in other people’s lives, in my own priorities.
And as much as it’s manifested personally, it’s manifested on a level in my kink as well. I find it so hard to ask for the things I like by name because I fear I’ll come across as far too demanding, I’m afraid to admit that I love attention because I fear I’ll be considered self-centered or that I’ll be slut-shamed.
But I’ve been trying so hard to throw that burden off of myself in other areas of my life, and I feel like I need to do that here as well. So, yes, anons who call me a narcissist, I might just be a little bit of an attention whore. And, no, I’m not going to waste my energy at the next play party or orgy I go to trying to hide how much I sincerely and wholeheartedly want to be there.
Yeah, I like receiving attention. And maybe sometimes I’ll overstep it and be a little too needy or a little too demanding, but I would rather that than worry that I am simply taking up too much space.
Thanks to those of you who sent questions last night to Sir, he had a good time. There’s one or two left over, so we’ll save them for whenever he gets a chance to do it again.
In other news, I need this right now.
The other night Sir threw a party and some of us got to discussing what the ugliest body part was. We’d agreed upon knees (sorry, knees) until someone interjected that she thought feet were actually grosser than knees.
And Sir, looking as if someone had personally insulted his taste, blurts out, “no! Feet are beautiful and delicious.”
And I just kind of looked at him like baaaabe. Rein it in.