Stress level…

on top of everything else I have meetings at one going all the way through my day.

Sir is sick, like in bed sounding like he’s dying.

She is upset. My doing and I’m sorry.

My mother texted that she has to get tests done on Saturday. She tells me don’t worry, but that’s what I do. I’m good at it. She won’t let me go with her. She won’t tell me where there are going to be done. 

I called her and wanted to scream “why the fuck would you do this to me at work through a text”

She’s lost weight, too much, too quick. Her stomach is tender and she is no longer holding down food.

Shes not old. Only a couple of years older than Sir. That scares me too.

She’s had times in the past that she got sick, pushed it off and spent months in the hospital. 

I’m scared, I’m powerless. I don’t know what to do.

Re drop?

one drink is never one drink with my coworkers. So a fun night out and 3 beers turned me into a needy messy sub.

I had so much anger that boiled up from my toes. My normal happy tipsy me went to that bad place reserved for when I drink three bottles of wine. This time I wasn’t drunk but I “let my irish show”.

I think it was the walking into an empty apartment that set me off.

Sir was having dinner. She was busy. I also think that fet girl breaking up with her Dom might have sat in the back of my head too. Not that we are like them at all. But I left her a voicemail saying I was around if she needed to talk.

Sir knew my mind was not right and we talked about how scared I am of all of these new emotions.

We talked of the plague of the ex’s I deal with. How they weigh heavey on me. I talked of missing her and that after the drop was over a part of me hopes the emotions would lighten up, but they didn’t.

Sir tried to snap me out of my funk with pain and orgasms, but they just made me more of a mess.

I just needed to say I missed her and maybe the tearful subspace call was not a good idea. I can’t take it back. So I’ll just move forward.

For the first time I was able to talk in subspace with the tears coming hard and quick. Or at least I think I did. Damn a part of me hopes I didn’t.

I need to stop dwelling in the what ifs and just live in the moment. So now I dropped again. I just want to crawl back into bed. I won’t because I have too much work and calling out they will think I drank too much, but it’s an emotional hangover that I have now.

Dreaming again

yesterday’s drop was pretty terrible.

I cried so much, but today I’m better, still an absolute mush, but I have mascara on again, so it’s a step forward.

Sir was busy, but sent me 2 messages and one a good job saying what nana would have, so thank you.

She also sent me a very special email, letting me see this weekend through her eyes, ones so similar to mine.

I just wanted to reach through the phone lines and hug her. Hug her so damn hard she could feel my heart ready to explode.

Oddly in hindsight yesterday wasn’t bad. My mother was her typical self, but she could tell something was up and like a good kid didn’t pressure me. My ex was almost enjoyable to be around. He wanted advise and we even shared a drink. There was a decade we were nothing more than friends and I think we’d both like to return to that phase in our relationship.

Today should be ok. 

Not that I won’t be replaying certain moments, but  I’m processing. There was a time only months ago these feeling would have had me running.

I would have told Sir and her I can’t, I’m done. Instead I know what I need always scares me at first. I’m learning to trust. Trust that what brings me joy is not bad.  

I drempt of a long walk holding hands. Simple and sweet. Back to the apartment smelling of mistletoe. A kiss in every doorway. Then kneeling, kneeling for the 2 of them. No pain, but so many tears running down my face. So many happy happy good tears.

I’m a realist and I know my dreams may never come true, but I’d be content in …… The thought of seeing my Sir next week and with his blessing, making plans to see her again.

Work….just too much work 

that is my day in a nutshell. Meetings, documents.

Then I get to leave this wonderful (oozing sarcasm) place and deal with ex husband and my mother.

He’s buttering me up for something. I have some theories. One is knows the time Mark is coming close and he stands to loose a nice chuck of change is he doesn’t get off his ass and file a separation or divorce. Second, he’s been with someone else for a while and trust me if you thought I was a sentimental mushy mess, he’s a hundred times worse. So there’s the possibility that either she’s pregnant or they are engaged.

Either way….something is amiss.

My mother is easy, she just wants money, as always I support her as the parent and do without to make sure her life is comfortable. So I’ll give her cash and listen to her work problems and friend issues, pick out her clothes for her, all the while staying silent about my problems. Wearing that vanilla mask, morphing into you typical yuppie next door, trying to start over at almost 40, you all know the type, outside everything is good, inside she fights back tears every moment of every day.

Funny since Sir first got the tears to fall with the whip, they don’t stop. I’ve cried more in 2015 than I have since I blew out my ankle and knee and stopped dancing.

There’s a part of me that hates it, that wants to shut it down and go back to what my ex’s brother called me the “ice queen”.

I’m not freaking or bailing into vanilla but it’s a thought. An easy way out. I’m just as good at feeling nothing at all as I am at feeling everything x100.

Last night I had expressed some concerns and fears to Sir. I had bizzarrre emotional spurts yesterday. I felt as though a part of me liked this weekend too much and maybe I’m not bi, but a closet lesbian. Then another random thought, since I have such strong affection towards her, am I cheating on Sir? Did I put my ability to serve him in jeopardy?

I know now…all my crazy thoughts are just me stressing, overthinking and self sabatoging, like I always do.

Sex is easy, emotions suck.

Flip side, I’m empty without them.

I also realized that yes Sir has filled a large part of that hole I walked around with, but not the whole thing. I guess that is what being truley bi is, needing the love of a man and a woman. Im just not wired for one or the other, I need to have that spiritual connection to both.

I wrote to Sir in an email:

“It was perfect, but I will always try to find the issue in anything that is too good.

Plus it makes all the play partners seem even more empty….more wrong.

tears again.

How do I handle multiple partners while needing to bond and mesh with them to get anywhere near the head space I do with you and her?(question to myself)

Why are you both so far away?”

The more I think, the distance is a good thing, without it I would have no balance, I would loose myself and drown in a sea of feelings and emotions. This way, I shut it down, I wear the masks I need to in order to survive.

Sir gave me tasks, good pain with the clovers on my clit and tit, he allowed me to cum as much as I wanted in one minute. He also told me all good, smart submissives girls overthink things. I’m not a bother to him. I needed to hear that.

I also spoke to her. For some reason I don’t want to document our phone calls. I’ll figure that out some other time.

Plus it’s nanas week, I miss her so, I know she would have such good advise and she would hold me tight and dry my tears.

 Lol, then tell me to go fix my face, poor me a drink, offer me food and tell me shed buy me a new outfit if I lost 5 pounds!

 Oh she was something else! My mother never learned the way she needed to respond.

I did. Put on lipstick, take a small sip of the drink, turn down the food and make plans to go shopping that weekend! 

So this weekend I’ll buy a crappy trashy book and lipstick, have a damn good cry, a sip of Sirs scotch and …lol, loose 5 pounds.

Days fade-sunday

last day to wake up and feel each other near. We exchanged pain and tears all the good kind.

We talked of …. Emotions. We both have a crappy track record of bailing when we get to…. Not attached, but I think (at least for me) it’s more of a fear of getting hurt. 

I told her how perfect she was. How every perceived imperfection just adds to her being perfect to me. I see her pain and loneliness and I know it, I live it. I’ve never been so faced with it before that moment.

A friendly Dom told her not to break her mirror. It’s advice that I also need to remember.

I promised I wouldn’t let her run, but in my negligence I forgot (or was too afraid) to ask the same.

We had plans to go out, but I couldn’t think of anything that would make me want to cut our time short together.

In the kitchen making coffee and a small plate of food we hugged. Face to face looking at each other, soft caresses, soft kisses, all so sensual.

Then her hot coffee in her cup rubbing against my nipples making me drI p and plead with her to please not stop…to continue the torment of my body. My clit begging to be touched.

Small distractions of daily life. Family calls, random texts from crazy ex’s. My time lines blur. I found her in the bedroom and I just wanted to please her. My whole body needing her tears and whimpers and to feed on her orgasms. In those moments my needs were only to ….. Be a slave by pleasing her.

I can still feel her head on my breasts and hear her soft pain moans as I twist her nipple. Those eyes locked on mine, not looking down as she’s done with others, but looking at me, an equal. An equal in our pain and need for pain.

Her want for me to spankers her, a reminder of me as she went home. Time was running so short and I could have continued for hours. I had been edging all morning. Even pleasuring her I could have cum a million times. 

The clovers on my nipple and a small rocket on my clit, she passed me the phone. My time, no more edges, I could call Sir and beg to cum. The pain and pleasure almost too much I came over and over. My orgasms lasting longer than the time it took for me to get there. 

I had once said a good scene caused an almost ptsd kind of reaction. Intermittently I will get a flash of her gentle face or hear her moans.

We had such little time to get ready.

Off to the train. We spoke of normal life and events past and present. She put her hand down and I placed mine in hers. It was such a good and nessessary thing. Neither of us ever being so open before.

Saying good bye was hard. A kiss and a big hug. I promised no tears, but that’s a hard thing to do.

As I walked away I silently cried as I do when I see Sir off. Are dynamic totally different not slave and owner, but two woman equally, needing to give and recieve pain and pleasure to fill the emptiness in us.

I got close to the train and needed to collect myself. Just one beer. Just a second to readjust to being alone again. To me sitting alone on a bar stool is the epitome of loneliness. It is solitude in a crowd. It is what I do when I need to reset.

I took a long walk, stopped for cheap wine I haven’t even looked at it or bothered to open it. Got some food, because I knew I should. It was the same as we are together, but tasted flat alone.

Yesterday I was experiencing a horrible drop so many mixed up emotions. I really didn’t want to get up today.

F$&@…meeting time…real life rears it’s ugly head once again.

Part 2-Saturday

i wake up a little fuzzy……

Hoping I didn’t make a total ass of myself and to my relief, s is next to me naked.

My mouth tasted like i gargled with cat littler.

My little dog jumps in her face and gives her a big wet good morning kiss(on my behalf).

Teeth brushed and dogs gone from the room. We kiss soft and sweet, turning needy and passionate. So many good moments of caring and connecting. I get fuzzy on the actions, but it’s never about the things that are done, it’s always about the feelings tied to them.

I remember looking at her and thinking how much I need to please her. Knowing how connected we are.

Making her cry and hit subspace caused such a skyrocketing need. 

Sir once said a good sub/slave can be a domme. It doesn’t make them a switch, it comes from the need to give and please. That was what I needed, I needed to take her and hold her as she floated. I need to feel her wet cunt and know that it was minein that moment. I was the reason she dripped and begged.

Then I need to give her me and show her that I could feel. 

As the morning continued we flowed back and forth, lost in a sea of pleasure.

Eventually back up….we had places to go.

A fun day filled with jazz in a beautiful setting.

Back home to have wine and dinner.

S and Sir spoke. I was instructed to plug for dinner. Both of us so tired but so joyful to be together.

I told sir we were exhausted and knew that a late night phone call would not be needed. 

That’s not to say I didn’t edge, lol, I can edge off of one dirty thought. 

We went through the toy bag….she took out anything she wanted to use and we fell asleep. It was the very first time I’ve ever feel asleep in another girls arms. It was tender and warm. 

I adore sleeping and cuddling with Sir, but this was much different. It’s hard to describe, but as I sit here a work I long to hug her and see her beautiful misty eyes. My cunt drips thinking of her tits touching mine.

Oh crap….full on cunt brain!!!

I have an hour to get my head back on and right now my clit is pulsing….so my next post must wait until later….after yoga when I am balanced and can think. If not it will be just all cunt talk…and that’s not what this is.

weekend-friday 8/14

Sir once told me long ago, when you find a woman just like you, you would greatly enjoy the tears.

I realized that I had my doubts because finding another such woman I thought was impossible. 

(No eye rolling) but…. He was right.

This weekend started with a drinking stroll with little R and some friends. S was coming to stay for the weekend and I was so nervous. By the time she had gotten there I was a little tipsy, but not bad. As the night went on, there was karaoke and more drinks and even an almost bar fight.

S blended into the group wonderfully and we sang and danced all the way home. I’ll admit by that time my memory was a little (more like a lot) sketchy.

When we got in the doggies had to go out and I was drunkenly determined to make sure they were walked. S came with me and we had our first kiss. It’s sad because I really have no memory of it.

Back inside I was placed in the drunk chair and given a sippy cup, then off to bed with much help. Poor little R got an eye full as she helped me undress and told S I hope you know she sleeps naked, s replied it’s ok so do I.

I’m still waiting for the third degree from R, but nothing yet except her wish to get me drunk every friday and some good impressions of me trying to walk a straight line.

Up this morning and still happy but I feel the crash starting. I’m mushy and…. Trying not to be a needy sub.

I need to just keep my brain lite. Dive into work, deal with reality again.

(Tears) it was such a magical weekend.

Hmm so am I a sadist too?

a most interesting thing happened.

I think I may have gotten that high, the high reserved for D-types.

I know the pain I like…I give it to myself often. Only a couple of times have I met any girls that have any interest in pain. I also never understood the turn on about tears.

Taking her nipple and twisting and biting and her moans….then tears, they were indescribable. I shook holding her, petting her, I could have cum from the pure emotion of it. The release…the trust. 

We shed so many tears….good cleasing tears.

So happy

sitting alone at a bar…softly siping my beer. 

I could not have asked for more this weekend.

All of my fears are gone. S has shown me…. There’s nothing wrong with me. She is a special, beautiful person.

I’m sure I’ll write much more but this weekend we were just 2 uncomplicated girls. All of lives pressures and demands on hold.

We found peace in eachothers arms. We found bliss in the pain we shared. There was no struggle in our dynamic, just a perfect flow between all of our needs.

It was the first time alone with a girl in more than 15 years. There were so many moments I’ve memorized. Moments of such tenderness. 

Time to get off my stool and continue the journey.

Sunburns and naps

what a great beach day!

Poor little R looks like a tomato, but I warned her to get out of the sun. Like the stubborn child she is, she didn’t listen and stayed 3 hours longer than I did.

Im thinking of finding an empty office for a nap. 

Hoping the day goes quickly, tonight will be lots of food,fun,drink and horribly inappropriate stories.

I wish I could write more, but another meeting….such is life.