Note: I started this yesterday.
It’s the night before New Year’s Eve and I’m riding in Sir’s car on the way from my house to his to fetch my bowling ball so I can get the thumbhole drilled out some. (Yep, that’s a thing.) I’m wearing a short, clingy sweater dress and over-the-knee boots and my bell collar, and my hair’s all mussed up because we just crawled out of bed – for the second time. Granted, this time we weren’t actually in bed, mostly on it, but still.
He was in my head though, using his voice to slip me in and out of a kind of dream space, where the things he says are reality and the lines between what’s real and what’s only in my head are blurred. It was ridiculously hot, but it’s hard to describe. Like I said, blurred lines.
Later, my cunt also hurt. He grabbed the fleshy part at the top (the mons, maybe, if we’re being anatomically correct) and pinched it, hard. And as I writhed, whimpering, he ordered me to “cum – now.” It was predicament play on a whole other level, making me cum in spite of – not because of – and through the pain. I did, panting, pleasure and pain warring for ascendancy and frankly just confusing the fuck out of my brain. I loved it.
This is typical for the way our Saturday mornings go after he stays over on a Friday night. Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not Saturday, but it’s our Saturday this week, due to holidays and family obligations and such.
Holidays can be difficult for people, polyfolk sometimes more than most. Mine had its share of family drama, disappointments unmet expectations. I had a whole blog written detailing the latest of my family drama in fact, but maybe I just needed to get it out somewhere, not necessarily publish it, because I have no desire now to do so. I haven’t laid it to rest, I still have a lot of heartache and disappointment to deal with, but…I’d rather not do that here.
The reality is that, in spite of all that, I had a lovely holiday. I refused to allow hurt and self-recriminations rule my world, and instead reveled in this new life and the love that has come into my life. I feel incredibly fortunate to be granted this.
New Year’s Eve.
There had been a different plan in place for tonight, and then, when that fell apart, other plans didn’t materialize, so here I am having a quiet night with Adam, coming up on our second year in the house. I had a relaxed day at home, fighting a migraine, and then later, when Ad got home from work, we spent some time getting “house stuff” done, then made dinner together and watched some TV. No, not how I thought this night would go, but I’m okay with it. I’m warm, and fed, and loved. I have so much love and such a lot of fun to look back on in the past year, and lots more to look forward to in the coming year.
Because I am me, and crave the ceremony of ritual, at midnight tonight we will bundle up and go outside to light the fire in our firepit and drink a toast: to love, to small joys, to good health, to happiness in the coming year.
And may all good things come to you and yours as well!