Archive for February 14th, 2010

Dead Boobs, ADD and The Creepiest Dildo Ever… Sort of.

February 14th, 2010 2 comments

My boobs? Yeah, they’re dead.  Dead, I said! They’re achy and sore from the nipple to the rib cage.

Why, you ask? Because M will not (cannot?) keep His hands off of them.  All day and night He’s pinching, biting, squeezing, slapping, punching, clawing.  Owfuckingow.

In the “initiating sex” competition, it’s Rayne in the lead, 3 – 1.

M says it doesn’t count cause I’ve been waking Him up with it.  He also complains that He sucks at morning sex.  But that’s not true.  For having just been lazily dragged out of a dead sleep, teased to a rock-hard erection before ever being touched anywhere but His back, and then having a dripping wet, hot, swollen pussy already twitching on the edge of orgasm lowered onto His cock, I’d say He does pretty damn well.

And besides, for me morning sex is never about me.  It’s about getting Him off and waking Him with a smile.  Cause it’s damn near impossible to wipe that kind of smile off His face.  His job’s only managed to do it once or twice in seven years.

Plus, if I’m all over Him, He’s loathe to turn me down because He knows how bad rejection rocks me.  And sometimes I won’t try to initiate sex again for weeks… maybe even months.  I’m getting better! But I still suck at separating “I’m too tired.” from “I don’t want to.”  I think that’s because I’m required to perform no matter what I’m feeling.  I mean, most recently, I was sore and not feeling well, and when M hit my stomach, I quite plainly told Him I was going to vomit in His lap if He didn’t stop.

He quite plainly responded that if He didn’t get to hit me I didn’t get to have cock.

I sort of blinked at Him for a moment, trying to figure out if I was even well enough to bounce up and down on His cock.  And as my cunt twitched involuntarily, I realized my body was going to make that decision for me.

But I resisted the urge to grab His hand and make Him hit me, like I do when He starts talking about wanting to.  For some reason, moving His hand for Him is easier than actually speaking the request.

And because I’ve said so, He’ll get busy breaking me of that, too, I’m sure.

I think that’s one of the biggest changes, lately.  He’s not allowing me all my silly little fears and phobias, anymore.  While in some cases He’s easing around them, in most He’s crashing right through them.  And I follow suit, crashing right through ones He has no control over.  Like my chemical imbalances and paranoia.

And I have really cool friends who will make sure to answer all the possible scenarios they imagine I’ll think of before doing whatever it is they know I’ll be paranoid about.  I love you all.  Truly.

And I wonder if you all have little paranoias of your own that you don’t talk about, and that’s why you know so much about mine.  O.o

Do you remember when you could type “.oO” on Yahoo chat and it would turn your comment into a thought bubble… sort of? It would say “Raynesomebodyorother thinks .oO(blahdiblahdiblah)” and we all thought that was just SO cool.  Maybe just I did.  Maybe it still does that.  It’s been seven years since I’ve been in a chat room.

Okay, so I do have ADD.  Shut up, Carrie.  I love you.  Lol.

I never did get my orgasm.  I wonder if He’ll let me use the creepiest dildo ever later to make up for it.

~pig whore

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