Wax Play – Not the weekend highlight

Friday I texted Daddy and told him that I was craving some play time. That evening after dinner I got my wish. He braided my hair, blindfolded me and put me on the tablecloth he laid on the bed. A light massage with oil to start with and then came the hot drips of wax. I was surprised at how arousing it was. Wax, wand, a nice fucking and I was in bliss.

Saturday was an event I had been dreading, a party for my father and stepmother. I was fretting over being asked to participate in the ceremony last minute. Daddy told me I was to stop worrying about it and that he would take care of it if it happened. That was challenging. It did not come to that but I had decided I would accept however he decided to handle the situation. Even if it made me uncomfortable or had future ramifications. I have no idea what he envisioned and he isn’t a hot head so I’m sure he would not have caused a scene. At the same time I know that he has held back over the years because of me. If the need arose he would speak up for me knowing he has my trust.

Throughout the night he continually reassured me that I was his babygirl. He squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear through the toasts that I found difficult to listen to. I made us matching bracelets from the napkin ribbon and he proudly wore it while taking some light kidding from others. During our required presence on the dance floor he held me tight against him and said he didn’t give a fuck when I asked him if he thought we were being too affectionate for everyone.

I’m a lightweight when it comes to liquor and I did not have that many but I managed to end up trashed. He took me home reassuring me that he loved me when I cried along the way. He listened as I giggled while drunk texting the kids and telling all of the little group how much I loved them. At home he stripped me and put me in bed. He tucked my tigers in my arms and put a cold washcloth on my head.

This weekend I had the whole package, sexual and emotional. Play time was great but it wasn’t the highlight.


Perseverance – 25 years for real this time


Yesterday was the actual anniversary of our first date. Since I handled the celebration a month earlier…


Daddy took care of it this time. Lol He told me he had plans for the evening.

In the morning my note was a writing assignment. Part one was write two things you loved about the last 25 years. I wrote him a journal page for each. One was that he was my best friend. He has been since the beginning. The second was that we never quit. Despite the difficulties and the heartache we kept trying or just hung in there at times. Kayla used the word perseverance in her podcast today and that totally fits. In our hearts we always knew the other was a good person and there was love there. We just didn’t know how to communicate. Thank goodness we are a couple of stubborn hard headed individuals that wanted nothing more than to love each other.

Oh and the evening was based on a mixture of both our first and second dates. All kids and significant others arrived and we went out for pizza and ice cream. It was perfect.

Do I want to be dominated or do I want to submit?

I was reading something the other day and there was a comment something like they want to be dominated more than they want to submit.

I think I could have used that question throw an at me a few times along this journey and maybe I did but not in those terms.

Yes I want to be dominated, usually. I think that is the hot fantasy thoughts but what I desire more is to submit to him.

I need to please him, to be his good girl and make him happy. I want that more than I want him to give me a list of rules to follow. If I need a little extra control I ask for it. I ask permission for a snack or to put my pj’s on. I ask him to take my shoes off or to reach something in the cabinet. I don’t have to wait on his dominance. I actively submit.

Not That Kinky

If kinky is a spectrum then we are probably pretty low on the scale. I’m no masochist and he’s no sadist, we will likely never step foot into a dungeon or play in public, neither of us have any real fetishes and we both regularly get off with something just above that plain ol’ vanilla that many thumb their nose at.

I often hang in groups of kinky people where I seem to be barely making the admittance requirements. It should not bother me but that stupid comparison thing kicks in and sometimes it gets to me. I am certainly not in the “sex is only to be tolerated occasionally for him on special occasions like his birthday but OMG we do not EVER talk about it” camp so I feel at times like I’m stuck somewhere between the two realms.

I do know that kinky folk are generally accepting and I have more to learn in that group than in a bunch that feel something as beautiful as sexuality is shameful and should be hidden. What I have learned and what we have introduced has changed our sex life for the better and reinvigorated our marriage. When sex is good, the intimacy it facilitates spreads through the relationship.

I do wonder though. Where does fucking me at the kitchen window while I watch squirrels score on the kink-o-meter?

Pain & Distance – In Real Life

When we begin blogging due to the topics we write about most of us choose to do so “anonymously”. However, probably because of the intimate nature of the stories we share we form close friendships. I know that I have shared so much more of myself to those I have found here and in chat rooms than most people “in real life.” That term is funny because isn’t it all “in real life”. Quite a few of those close friends have or are going through some rough shit lately. I cry real tears for their pain and the thousands of miles between us. All I can do is send love.