sir

I did something really naughty today.

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Sir says part of shaking off my shame is owning up to these parts of myself. So, I’m supposed to write about what I did and be very brave about it. 

I made the mistake of reading this in a public place. I then proceeded to masturbate to it, also in a (semi-)public place. I admitted it to Sir, who told me I should tell all of you.

I’m super embarrassed admitting this, but Sir says “it’s too blushy” isn’t my safeword. And he’s right. So, here’s to me trying to be brave about this part of myself but oh God I’m gonna go hide under a rock right now thanks.

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He gets a little cocky when he’s mixing drinks. He’s in a different element. 

I won’t even pretend for a second that I don’t like that.

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So, Sir just gave me a new rule that Full Friday is now Flirty Friday, which entails that I have to send a nude to someone that isn’t him. 

(Obviously, someone we both know would be trustworthy about that sort of thing.)

As much as I pouted and whined about it, I’ve got to admit I’m not totally against the idea.

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I was a bad girl today and forgot to ask Sir’s permission before having a cocktail. Now I have to sleep with Mr. Purple in my asshole so I’ll never, ever forget to ask permission again. 

(Note: I can totally safeword out of this, and this is a consensual punishment.)

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Sometimes I miss the days when you’d come over and we’d keep our clothes on. When you’d rub me through my shorts until I leaked right through them because within a few minutes we were helplessly skirting the boundaries we’d set. 

Those were the days when you brought over a six pack to keep at my place because I didn’t have beer to offer you, when you left your hat behind so I hid it and wouldn’t give it back. It was a time when we were doing little things like that in an attempt to articulate power with each other, in an attempt to understand how intimate we were allowed to be.

We weren’t even sure who was making the rules at that point. But, usually, we broke them.

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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. 

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perfectlyscrumptious:

ourspacebetween:

ifoundmytrueself:

sage-and-senseless:

I love when my husband is in the kitchen in an apron!!

It has been too long. Having the girls here is putting a serious damper on me being a nudist.

He can cook for me ANY time!

Shoulders, sass and ass!  Nice combo!

But, actually. When Sir cooks my clothes just kind of fall off.