Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Please Fuck Me Sir

I am a needy girl. Not sure where that came from. Maybe vanilla sex just wasn’t worth begging for. Sex now is a totally different ball game. Sir doesn’t seem to mind his insatiable sub, but sometimes I feel guilty about it. He gives me everything. It is the classic BDSM line though, he gives me what I need, not necessarily what I want.

That is not to say that he is mean, well, not too mean. I don’t need the hours of sleep that he does. And, as much as I complain it about it, I get to wear sweat pants around the house all day with the kids; he has to put on a suit and go to work. So it’s not really fair that I want to stay up half the night and play. But once he gets me worked up, I just keep going. It’s not a stamina thing, I just get into this groove where orgasms come easier and I just roll into this subspace of sorts. I’m still cognizant, I can still talk, mostly. I can see the change in his face when he slips into too tired. There’s a moment when the evening changes from being for him to being for me and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I love that he takes care of me in that selfless way. But should he? It feels good at the time, obviously, but afterward I feel like the crappy submissive. Should I really be begging for what I want; shouldn’t I just be happy with whatever he decides to give me. Then, just to make this more convoluted in my head, is he granting my request because I begged nicely, or because he wants to?

I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth, aren’t I? I’ll shut up before he changes his mind.


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