i am sick, probably with strep, and probably should be resting instead of writing this. my mind feels too unquiet to sleep just yet, though. aside from the whole “being tired” thing. 😛 i just mean shit feels unfinished, some kind of emotional shit.
things have continued going great w/r. it’s fucking weird that i can say “things” and “continued” like that, given how much time in the last few weeks i’ve spent vacillating between extremes of in-the-moment dopamine (+whatever else) rushes of us getting physical, and this complete calm-within-upset certainty that it’s incredibly temporary, or meaningless, or already over, or that i fucked it up, or anything. it feels old even though i probably haven’t framed it this way for more than a couple days. and probably didn’t do so consistently even within that time.
friday night is worth mentioning. somehow in whatever emotional state fueled my previous post, i failed to note that i spent a lot of friday night with rushi. i honestly can’t remember how melissa left us alone, but she did at some point, and after that point, i blew r for like two hours and didn’t let him come the entire time. he was so good. so hot. by the end, i was wet to the touch from the very top to the bottom of my slit. i will not soon forget the sight of him throwing his arms out to either side, trying to control himself. nor the fact that he said the experience “transcended a blowjob,” and later, that I’d “found [my] calling.” honey, not everyone reacts as beautifully as you do.
and then last night.
we’d already established that m & i were both sick, so previous dinner plans got solidified as “r makes soup for sick people” plans. he made chicken soup from scratch, and it was fucking incredible. SO LEGIT. so delicious and wholesome. we all watched bojack until m’s python tutoring appointment, and then r turned on In The Pale Moonlight (which he saved for watching with us) and turned on the hitachi magic wand he’d brought with him, and put it on me for…. over an hour. it was fun but also dear god my pussy is actually kinda bruised now. i’d have thought i’d come more often, but it turns out aim and consistency actually matter, even at high powers. we played more orgasm denial games and i didn’t feel like i was very good at it. he liked some of my reactions, and my wordplay/puns were on point throughout, which felt great. sometimes i felt like my reactions weren’t very attractive to him. hard to tell, given my level of distraction. i also failed on multiple occasions to answer episode-related questions he would ask.
he whispers. it’s really hot.
/non-linear, but it was super gratifying to come home and have him already kinda intoxicated, enough to disclose personal things more freely? he kept exclaiming about how good i smelled, complaining that he couldn’t kiss me because of the probable strep, leaning towards me even w/m around.
also yesterday i learned that the first girl he ever danced with was named… stephanie something? and it was to Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden and she was wearing a crushed velvet dress, lol. also that he cheated on a gf in high school w/her best friend.
he asked me about my cuts. like, straight-up brought it up by himself and was plain and nonjudgmental and curious and he DID HOMEWORK. he said he did some reading about it to try to understand better, before even asking me. so fucking cute! so fucking sweet. i don’t deserve him. and also he mentioned knowing some people who were waaaaay more extreme with it and had literal piles of their own flesh?
then, yeah, the magic wand, and lots of being vocal and tense and trying to be better at the game. i don’t think i’m quite successfully obedient enough to play elsewhere/in other ways. sigh. i don’t want to disappoint him. getting a reaction out of him from the smallest movement.
then…. affection. thank god. he actually admitted in a roundabout way that he would prefer to come sleep in my room with me rather than on the couch, although he ended up choosing to stay out there for some damn reason (given the annoying indigestion i was dealing with, it kinda worked out for the best in the short-term). he called me wonderful.
woke up the next morning, had trouble getting out of bed, and round about 7:40, R poked his head (adorable) over the door frame. i’m so glad i was already awake so i could invite him to come over, sit, then lie down, then cuddle with me under the covers, then back to grinding and grabbing each other and making small noises. he’s so fucking attractive.
also omg this is TWICE now he’s said I’m basically Jadzia. Biggest compliment.
takeaways as far as my sleep-addled brain can remember:
- he responds to dirty talk that’s more realistic and succinct than most folks i’ve dealt with. which is great and refreshing, but also, hard to do on the spot, for me. xP i haven’t quite figured out how to consistently push his buttons, yet. you know me and words.
- i gotta gotta gotta keep working on me, being more curious, and also balancing work + relationships. caaaaause he could do a lot better than m & i.
- also gotta work on actually thinking about orgasm denial things so i can do it better in the moment regardless of what’s on my junk. it’s p much never occurred to me to try to mentally redirect.
- dammit there was more than this earlier, before i nodded off 5 million times
so yeah that was a jumble of facts with no linearity but okay
then today…. this afternoon. after this morning at all, i guess. i just feel kinda unhappy and i’m not sure why. maybe it’s just that i’m getting really shitty dumb dependency on the endogenous drugs he’s making me feel. maybe it’s my ever-present anxiety that i’m going to fuck this up by not feeling enough.
whatever it was, i was sad and full of ennui, but now i’m too tired to think.