One of my weekly tasks is to post a blog post three times a week. Most times I get two in and then I find myself struggling to make time to write that last one – Thurs/Fri/Sat tends to be busy. Of course every week at the end I tell myself: plan better, manage your time better.
This week on the cruise it’s been the same. I posted one early in the week, and I thought “I’ll have so much downtime!” But the reality is a lot of my/our downtime has been spent relaxing, playing games, drinking and eating. Napping a bit. And wanking off, with or without Adam – because that’s a new task that has been instituted, two orgasms a day. It’s surprising how … difficult … that is to do, actually. I’m laying here, now, knowing I have to have my second one and wondering how I will do it.
It’s not that it’s hard to orgasm. I mean, in general I get off fairly easily. But…it’s hard to want to orgasm, to need to, without him. I can have an orgasm. I can use Baldy and get off, usually with another toy too, one of my glass dildos, maybe. Or with Adam helping…he and I have had sex a couple times now this past week, and I have had the pleasure of sucking his cock a couple of times. That’s a rare thing lately, and I am glad of it.
But I have become so…keyed…to the Hypnotist sexually, to his voice and presence and the feel and touch of him in my mind, that…arriving at that place of intense arousal, that begging, panting needy place, is a struggle without him here, or near. I want to cum for him, and in fact, I do, and I am, but it’s not because I am so aroused that I have to. It’s because he’s told me to, and so I do.
And yet, wait… This is how it works. As I am writing this, I am becoming aroused. My pussy throbs, that ache begins to build between my legs, low in my belly, desire pooling in me, pulling at me. I want him hear to drive it, to bear witness to it – but it’s also enough to know he wants me to do it.
I don’t think he’s thinking about it. I don’t think he’s wondering about it, if I will or won’t, if I have or haven’t or how I will do it.
Or maybe he is, maybe that’s just the story that I have in my head, that I am out of sight/out of mind. In the end, I guess it doesn’t matter. This is the nature of submission for me. This is the nature of my desire. My head thinks one way, and my body – well, my body responds to some deeper instinct.
And now I have to go fuck myself into an orgasm. Because he said so.