Because sometimes I’m a little scared of how much I trust you.
sir
I get this so soon.
But, as always, it’s not soon enough.
I’ve discovered that when it comes to jealousy in non-monogamy, it boils down to whether or not I find the other person is too similar to me.
If I’m like oh this individual represents something so totally different than what I am, I’m really fine with it because I’m like sweet I get it you just want some variety you go for that.
But when somebody’s got too much in common with me, I start to get concerned about the idea of being replaced. One of my biggest insecurities is the whole idea that my partners are going to find somebody slightly better than me and trade up. I know, it’s absolutely ridiculous, but it’s one of the silly places my head goes.
Last summer, Sir started seeing this girl and they got super into each other very fast. I was really happy for him, but I realized this was another blonde girl with some fairly similar kinks except, oh yeah, she was down for more degradation than I was. Even though now I think she’s a lovely person, I was kind of livid and frightened at first by the whole idea of them seeing each other.
Of course, I’m in no sense “recovered,” but I’m kind of happy that I at least know what the jealousy is centered on. Being able to identify it is the first step of getting rid of it, right?
There’s times with him where I feel like we’re both in on the most absurd, most hilarious joke ever. There’s times I glance across a room and we catch each others’ eyes and smile and just kind of understand. When I say it feels like a game, it mean to say that we’ve given ourselves our own set of rules.
Sir and I have the kind of goofy intimacy that reminds me why he’s my home base.
I’m going to my first official legit play party without Sir tomorrow night. It’s the first time I’m ever going to one without him. He took me to my very first one and I’m a little anxious to not have him there to watch out for me and take care of me.
Instead, Pup and one of his partners (I WILL GET YOU CAUGHT UP I FREAKING PROMISE) and I are going there together, and I’m talking to Sir about all the blushy stuff I’m allowed to do there. Naturally, the conversation is dipping into kind of Daddy/little territory.
A highlight I’m squirming like crazy over is: “Fine, you can cum twice but only in public and if you suck that boy’s dick in front of everyone.”
Eep.
One of the fundamental differences between my kink and Sir’s kink used to be that Sir wasn’t into a Daddy/little dynamic and I was starting to realize that having that dynamic was central to my kink identity, if you will.
At first, we handled our differences with ethical non-monogamy. I wasn’t into extreme degradation? Fine, this partner of his was. He doesn’t want to be called Daddy? Totally okay, I had a fun Femme Daddy friend (Heart).
This totally served us well. The Femme Daddy in question and I have a pretty casual dynamic because of distance, but I liked that. It might me sad I couldn’t see her very often, but I was enjoying myself. Sir was seeing girls who would do more extreme stuff and sometimes I felt intimidated, but by mid-September I knew a girl who liked extreme beatings wasn’t going to ruin my relationship with Sir.
However, something was happening. After the last visit, Sir started letting me call him Daddy in certain contexts, and I started accidentally calling him it even when we hadn’t decided it. At first, I apologized and went back to Sir. But, eventually, it was clear he was starting to really like it.
“I don’t mind,” he said one day, “if you call me Daddy sometimes, if I’m still Sir sometimes, too.”
“You don’t mind like you’re okay with it or you don’t mind like you enjoy it?” I asked.
He got a little coy but eventually came out with it: “Yeah, I like it.”
A little while later, I opened my askbox to find he’d sent me the above image.
I’m coming back in twelve days, so I shouldn’t be such a big baby about this.
Sir’s in the shower right now, getting ready for work. I’m eating breakfast before I have to go catch my flight.
It always happens that just as we are falling into a routine, one of us has to go. It’s a little tiring. I’m so excited that the next few times I see him, it will be for three weeks and then for the better part of a summer.
But, the time in between is always so rough.
Sir and I took a bunch of sexy photos the other day and part of me wants to blush and keep them to myself and part of me wants to share them all at once.
Can the enema wait until I’m done conditioning my hair?
Shit that gets said when I stay with Sir.