According to Pup, he and Sir totally made out that night we all played Jenga.
But guess whose asshole brain won’t bring back the memory?
Stupid spankbank. Withdrawal denied.
wah
Me, during the hours when Sir and I are both actually awake and available.
Birth control made my breasts grow. It’s also made them much more sensitive.
It bugs me because now some of my clothes fit a little differently and I can’t get away as easily with not wearing a bra.
But, it makes certain individuals inordinately happy, so there’s that.
Can we discuss the fact that the real (ok not really) casualty of the accidental bloodplay Jenga evening was actually my famous semi-sheer dress?
I wore it with some really cute lingerie underneath (gotta be prepared) that blended in with the pattern just enough and Sir kept joking about what a little slut I was.
Well, during the whole mess, my dress wound up getting irreparably torn.
So, yeah, Pup has a scar on his thumb and the see-through dress is now a dishrag. Siiigh.
This is what I look like when I’m sick.
Except not at all oh my gosh somebody please come and pat my head and feed me soup and tell me a bedtime story so I am well enough to go to a munch tomorrow.
Wahhh.