Ain't No Knitting Going On Here

I'm trying to learn to knit. It's been quite frustrating, but I think I finally got it. Earlier in the week as I was struggling to make some progress with it, I heard about a survey done by the University of Alabama. The survey said people burn more calories knitting than they do having sex. I don't care, I'll still take sex over knitting any day.

I'm floating on cloud nine today, cause there ain't been any knitting going on here this weekend. Yep, our daughter and her little family went away for the weekend. Hmmm...now...how to get the boy child out of the house for awhile. Musicman to the rescue, he gave the boy money to go out.

Yay, finally, some privacy. We did our best to make the most of it.

The magic paddle was used. It's been awhile, about a month, I think. Wow, did that sting and then thud and then sting again. I even found myself at one point trying to scramble away from his reach. No, I was not successful at that, his hand on my back held me firmly in place.

Mmmmmm....I was already floating into never land when I heard him remark how red I was. Then a switch of implements, the leather strap. Oh yeah, love that leather strap. Love it on my butt, love it on my back, love it on my legs. He covered all those places.

He paused, grabbed my hair and leaned down to my ear, to tell me, very specifically, everything he was going to do to me next. Each thing was accompanied by a just right, tug of my hair. He definitely had my attention, unfortunately, my ability to respond with anything more than one word was lost.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, was all I could say. That wasn't exactly the response he was looking for, so he applied the leather strap some more. Oh, I was most definitely fine with that response. By the time he was done, I was so far beyond any kind of control I would have done or said (had I been able to speak) anything he told me to. I did manage, with some coaxing from him, to say what he wanted to hear.

He was as good as his word and proceeded to do all the things he had previously said he was gonna do. It was wonderful. Every time I thought I couldn't orgasm even one more time, he proved me wrong. I floated from one orgasm to another, sometimes mewling like a kitten, sometimes begging (for what I'm not sure), sometimes screaming, sometimes just gasping for breathe.

His hands grasping like vice grips on my hips, my back arching so far off the bed that I was practically standing on my head. Fists buried in the sheets, gripping tight while I writhed and wriggled in an effort to get closer, or get away. I'm not totally sure which. Doesn't matter either, cause I didn't get away. I got everything I've wanted and needed and then some.

It took me awhile to recover. I was in that glorious, floaty place, unable to feel my body. Just a limp ball of mush with nothing more to worry about than breathing.  I did eventually recover and turned my attentions to him and his beautiful cock, standing at attention waiting for me. I thanked him most profusely.

I slept the sleep of the dead and woke to a lovely hand spanking and some more orgasms. I don't know who the University of Alabama studied for their survey, but I highly doubt their findings. I don't think I could ever burn that many calories knitting, and don't even want to try.



 

faerie flies again

We're home and as much as I didn't want to leave, it is so good to be home.  We stayed in  my brother's room, they have a perfectly lovely double bed, but it ain't our king size water bed. We finally got a decent night's sleep, yay. 

A 10 hour trip turned into 11 hours due to getting stuck in an accident induced traffic jam just five miles into the trip. Not the best of starts, but it was pretty uneventful after we cleared that mess. I usually enjoy the trip, we travel through the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Shenandoah Valley, gorgeous country side. Unfortunately, this time I didn't enjoy the beauty around me, it just reminded me that each mile took me farther from where my heart wanted me to be. That just induced tears on my part.

I did have plenty of time to think while in the car. I realized that this experience is changing some of my limits. Like wiping them away changes. I've always believed in living for today because none of us are promised tomorrow. The mundaneness of day to day life can easily eclipse that kind of thinking though. This just brings that back to the forefront for me.

I thought about some of things that Musicman would like to try that are currently past my limits. I no longer think those limits apply. Now seems like a good time to get past my fears and inhibitions and just try it. What do I really have to loose? Nothing. He has always said if I tried things and didn't like them he wouldn't force me to do it. He's been true to his word too.

I think I was clinging to those limits like they were a security blanket. I realized that they aren't really protecting me from anything. They are inhibiting me from experiencing new things and growing within our relationship. Time to ditch the security blanket, methinks.

All the way home I kept hoping our daughter wouldn't be here so we could reconnect and have some playtime. Oddly, I was almost relieved when I got home and she was here.  That confused me some. Where as just a few moments earlier I had been wanting playtime, I now thought I didn't and was grateful that we didn't have the privacy for it. I realize now I was just so physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted that I didn't know what I wanted.

Musicman, though just as exhausted as I was, did know what he wanted. He knew exactly what he wanted, me. We had only unpacked the stuff from the car that absolutely had to be unpacked, then we showered and I collapsed on the bed. That's when I started having a problem. Musicman wanted to play, but spanking or any other loud activities where off the table because of our daughter being home.

I thought that was okay, I thought that was what I wanted, soft, sweet reconnection.  I had problems getting my head into the game though. I just couldn't focus on anything, erratic thoughts just kept swirling through my mind. Not surprising really, but I usually don't have much of a problem focusing once he lays his hands on me. Not so last night.  Every time he would try and touch me or stroke me or stimulate me in any way, I would push him away and move myself away from him. Very unusual behavior for me.

Thank goodness I did have the presence of mind to tell him that was my issue. He looked at me for a moment, then he slapped me and said I better get my head in the game cause he wanted me. That was all it took, the damn broke, the erratic thoughts were gone. I was instantly in that lovely submissive head space. I immediately stopped pushing him away or trying to get myself away from him.

I was totally focused on him and the moment, the words he'd said running through my head, inflaming me even more. The next time he laid his hands on me, I was ready. Actually, I was more then ready, it didn't take long at all before I was floating off to subspace, my body convulsing in orgasm after orgasm. I alternately buried my face in the pillow or bit down on my own arm to stifle the screams escaping me.

Today, I'm back in my skirts, feeling more like myself and seriously thinking of just telling our daughter she needs to leave for a few hours. At 22, I think she's old enough to understand why we need some private time together and I have no qualms telling her that. Now that the damn's been broken, I'm ready to fly again.

"I Know What You Need"

We spend most of our evenings together, in our master bedroom. We just laze around at the end of a long day. Talking about our day, spent apart from each other. If I've worked that day, he listens to me vent and usually makes me laugh. I've listened so close over the years, I know more about his chosen career then some of the people he works with. It's the beginning of the day to day reconnection, a ritual we've observed for years.

It has been a really long week, so I got cleaned up and comfy early. If I wear anything, an over sized men's tank  is about it.

He sits on the lounge as I walk by. He's been quiet, I've let him be, giving him the space he needs. Though it pains me some to do that, I have faith in him.  When he's ready, he'll take what he needs.

He reaches out as I pass and pulls me close. I bury my hands in his hair as I bend to enfold him, clinging silently to the man I love. We rest for a moment, catching our breathes in each other.

He stands, I'm overwhelmed and embraced all at once. Nestled in the crook of his neck as he lifts his chin for me to plant faerie kisses.

"I know what you need." He whispers, as he slowly turns and bends me over at the same time. I hear, rather than see him pick up the leather paddle. His hand, caressing up my back as he pushes my head down and bares me at the same time.

SWAT!!!!

Oh!

Yes!

The damn breaks, the tension flows out, lessening with each subsequent blow.

Swat, swat, swat...

Swat, swat, swat....

Leather kissing skin, redness and warmth bloom.

Legs part, a wider stance a necessity for maintaining balance while losing my equilibrium.

Whack, whack, whack...

Whack, whack, whack,

Oh!

Yes!

The lady parts start to burn, as leather meets flesh and the heavens are reached.

I'm lost, a flurry of leather, striking all about my body, delicious pain, I crave it so. Give me more, I beg of you.

My body bowing, arching up on my toes, his tongue thrusting deep to drink of the wetness flowing out. The coolness of his tongue a balm to my burning flesh, soothing, yet fueling the flame.

I feel his strength as he twists and pinches at my nipples, driving me further into subspace. So sharp, so vivid, so exquisite is the pain, that pleasure explodes around me and all I can do is watch in wonder.

"Yes Sir," is all I can manage when the command comes.

I spin quickly and take him between my lips, swallowing deeply and appreciatively. Pausing, for just a moment, to fully feel his length as he hits the back of my throat.  Hands buried in my hair, I grip his hips and hang on for the ride.

to be continued...

Fact or Fiction

They sit quietly, surreptitiously glancing at each other when they think it won't be noticed.  Life's stresses have caused tensions between them to rise.

He has been quiet and distant, the frequent touches she has grown to love so much, now absent.  The ever present spark of mischief in her eyes has dulled. The frequent giggles and over the top love of life that has held him captive all these years, now dampened.

They have faced and overcome challenges before. Challenges that have tested and ultimately strengthened their bond. Yet, despite that, they sit quietly, not knowing how to bridge the gap that has grown between them.

He rises and without saying a word approaches her. She looks up as he stops directly in front of where she sits. She doesn't say a word, just reaches out to touch him. She grabs his hips and pulls him in closer, not stopping until she has buried her face in his crotch, nuzzling him like a newborn to the tit.

His hands descend to cup her head and hold her closer as she rests with her face buried in his most intimate place. They rest that way for a moment, then he steps back while reaching for his waistband. He divests himself of his clothes and steps back to where she waits.

She nuzzles him again, happy the barrier of clothes has been removed. She gently reaches out with her tongue to lightly lick at his semi flaccid member. Smoothing over the head and down the side, back up the other side as he grows harder and longer under her ministrations.

She reaches again for his hips to pull him closer as she engulfs him fully in her mouth. Swallowing down the hard length, pausing to feel him fully pushing at the back of her throat. A low groan echoes round the room, the origin of which neither of them notice in the growing lust now surrounding them.

The silence is replaced with with the sounds of sucking and slurping as she greedily works to bring him pleasure. His hands, now grasping her hair to hold on more then to guide the movements she is making. Up, down, in, out, performing the dance of lovers everywhere.

Her tongue teasing, seducing the pleasured moans from deep in his throat as she takes him even deeper into her throat. Her hands kneading at his balls now tightening with the coming explosion. Pulling out only at the last minute, she glances up to give him a look at the sparkle back in her eyes as he shoots his load all over her face.

They collapse together, the silence between them now comfortable and secure, no tensions exist.

Reconnection...or faerie looses her virginity

So I thought I would try for a cohesive, positive post, lets hope the mind cooperates, lol.

Musicman is stable, his energy levels fluctuate greatly, but overall things seem good.

He was finally feeling well enough to try for some reconnection, if ya know what I mean.
It was quite wonderful, and of course made me think, what else would I do being the deep thinker I am.

Musicman and I are very fortunate that we are never apart over night. It was one of the things he made clear to me at the beginning of our relationship oh those many years ago. He expected me to be in his bed with him every night, I always have been.

He does travel a few days a month for work, it would be easier and more convenient for him to spend the night away, but he never does, he always comes home to me. This usually makes for several 16 hour days for him, but even when the weather is bad and I worry about him being on the roads he never sways, he is always home with me at night.

In the 26 years we have been together I can quite literally count on one hand the number of times we have been seperated, and it was always due to hospitalization.

About now you are probably scratching your head and going, hunh? Stick with me, I think I have a point, I think.

Because we are never apart, and we both have pretty high sex drives going without is very very rare for us. I'm thinking ya'll know I have been somewhat frustrated with it.

When we were able to finally reconnect it was pretty vanilla, but so intense. It sorta felt like losing my virginity all over again. Or at least the way it is described in those silly romance books. Most of the women I have talked with about it say it was no great shakes. And I maybe wrong, but it seems like most women(never really asked a guy, so can't say about them) whether good or bad it is a significant memory for them.

This is where it gets a little fuzzy for me. I wonder why I think it seems like losing my virginity? With my history, I don't have a significant memory of it. For me there was no teenage angst, or first night wedding jitters or any of the other things I've heard other women talk about. There's just no memory at all, I kind of look at it as I was never a virgin. I mean, obviously I was once, but it was taken from me at such a young age that I am grateful I don't have any memory of it, cause it sure couldn't have been good.

So, I wonder, why is my brain making this correlation?