I’m 32. I know, that’s not really that old, but I am feeling my age today. Mostly the adult part.
I was really hurt yesterday that my husband didn’t say ‘happy birthday’ in the morning. He didn’t say it when we messaged back and forth while I was work. He didn’t say it until I had gone up to pout in our room when I got home from work. I know, it makes me sound like a four year old, but I don’t care. No one at my office knew it was my birthday, and I wasn’t going to shout it from the rooftops. So as far as work was concerned it was just another day.
And I should have been okay with that. I don’t really like attention from people I don’t know. Private attention from Sir, a lover, or a friend is fine, but I don’t like being a public spectacle. However, as the day wore on, I could feel myself starting to dip. It may have just been that the husband remained silent, but by the time I got home I was a mess. I don’t know why it affected me so much.
I think I had just hoped for a bit more attention at home. The boys had made me a card and my husband had baked a cake on Sunday. It was lovely, and the gifts they bought were very nice. Maybe I just needed a hug.
But, now I am 32. Fretting about things I cannot change won’t help me move forward. And it’s not like I had a terrible birthday. Lovely people wished me a happy day and the fact that they thought of me was special. Now to finish out these last few weeks at my job and start at a place where I’m not self-conscious sharing my birthday with my co-workers.
Rye had a bit of a rough morning. I had given her a straight-forward task to perform while I was in the shower. Stand on tip-toe while holding my towel at arms’ length, raising it slightly higher toward the ceiling every time she lost her balance. She was doing well, with her arms almost reaching the ceiling as I finished in the shower. As I was finishing myself up – and honestly taking my time – she safe-worded out of the exercise; I later learned that her ankle was giving out and she was at risk of falling over. I climbed out of the shower and asked if the task was more painful than it seemed at first. My question was met with a wall of defenses; redirection, incredulity, anger, and more besides. I was taken off guard and it took me a moment to gather myself.
A lot went through my head at that moment. We switched places and she climbed into the shower while I started to dry off. She was holding herself in her arms and sobbing huge, silent tears into the corner of the shower, busily tearing herself to ribbons for what she thought was a failure. I climbed back into the shower, held her, and explained a few things. I explained that the purpose of the assignment was in the doing it at all and in the not giving up until health and well-being became an issue. I soothed her out of her head and back into the moment, where I was proud that she had engaged in so superfluous and unproductive a task at all. She consented to stop beating herself up for the moment.
So, I went upstairs and laid out her clothes, from the inside out, so to speak. Starting with the Njoy Pure plug, a tube of lube, and the Doxy, and then onto a shirt and skirt, I prepared her appearance for the day. I don’t normally do this because I don’t normally get to do this, but it felt important in that moment that she feel an extra layer of my influence and approval.
I left her to get dressed while I did some cleaning down stairs – until I heard the telltale buzz of the Doxy. I went up; she was beautiful. I tugged on and assaulted her nipples while she came. I forced her throat down around my cock while she came. I beat her ass with a belt while she came. All separate and massive orgasms, by the way.
And then I offered her some Brownie Points. “Do you want some brownie points today?”
“Yes please,” she chirped, enthusiastically.
I pulled her short leash out of the playbox. If I am remembering correctly, this came from one of Rye’s old clutch purses. I attached the tether to the Njoy’s handle, and instructed her to leave the lead for the day.
She did. The whole time we were out at a fancy restaurant to celebrate her birthday. It led to an interesting and hilariously compromising situation, but I’ll leave Rye to share it, as she knows more of the details, and it would be a story whose heart is more in the truth than the embellishment.
Unfortunately, however, she did not get to spend the day in the skirt I had picked out, but that’s mostly because I insisted on cumming on her face before lunch and the skirt got gobbed on. “If it was only one spot, I’d probably leave it, but this is a bit obvious.”
You could fairly ask what the point of any of this is. In all honestly, I’m not sure myself – real life often defies logical presentation. If it were fiction, I would suggest that the story of the plug come before the story of the tears, so that the energy for the former could feed the emotion of the later. I would give the whole thing a small bundle of possible interpretations, all somehow distinct and connected at the same time. I would give it an optimistic but ambiguous conclusion.
Life defies narrative direction, but soars in the telling.
The lovely conclusion to yesterday’s post. A birthday gift that is both personal and special. Thank you Twitter Boyfriend. Happy Birthday to Me!
On Sunday morning we were awoken by a knock at the door of the suite. As my Pet slowly stirred from her slumber, I got up and let room service in to deliver the breakfast I’d ordered for us both. During breakfast I discussed my plans for the day. Knowing how much my Pet values having an orgasm, I informed her that the day was to be all about her and how many orgasms I could give her before I had to leave. The only stipulation I made was that no two orgasms could be achieved in the same way unless they were multiple orgasms as part of the same activity.
I didn’t plan on making this too easy for my Pet though. Each orgasm was going to be just that little more challenging to achieve than the previous one. I started with her favorite way to orgasm using her Doxy. Lying back, legs spread, she started slowly alternating between stimulating her labia and applying direct stimulation to her clit. It wasn’t too long before her arousal began to build towards her first climax of the day. There was little point in delaying it and I encouraged her to come as soon as she wanted to. And come she did. Her whole body shaking as she let out stifled moans, unsure as to how soundproof the suite was.
After this first orgasm, we spent some time laying back in bed, my Pet nestled into me, talking about anything and everything. About 20 minutes later I suggested that it was time for orgasm number two. For this orgasm I played voyeur. Hoping off the bed I sat in the arm chair which I had positioned near the end of the bed. I motioned my Pet up onto all fours, leaning forward with her head on the bed, she started playing with her pussy, reaching back between her legs. Using just her fingers she played with her cunt, gradually opening up her labia and inserting a finger or two into her moist slit.
I could see more and more of her excitement building until she was dripping onto the duvet. As she neared her orgasm, her fingers started moved in circles around her clitoris. Finally focusing almost exclusively on her clit. As her orgasm built her breathing increased and she clenched and relaxed her thighs. As she came she shoved her hand deep into her crotch and ground herself against the bed to prolong it for as long as possible.
Coming down from the second orgasm I suggested that a shower might help freshen us up so that we could continue this celebration of sexual release. As we began taking turns soaping each other our hands continued to roam over each others’ bodies. Embracing my Pet and allowing the water to cascade over us we kissed passionately.
Carefully lifting her leg up on to the edge of the bath, I knelt down and began a determined assault on her pussy. I was determined to devour her completely and without mercy. The water continued to fall on us as I lapped and nibbled on her smooth cunt. With her pleasure increasing, her hands went to the back of my head and she slowly ground herself against my mouth. As she approached her next orgasm I shifted my focus to her slit. Taking quick little licks at first. When I sensed she was close I focused exclusively on her clit, sucking on it for all I was worth. She rewarded me with a wonderful shuddering come.
Not satisfied, I continued my assault on her pussy. Her arousal increased again with an impending second orgasm, her hands gripping my hair tightly as she ground out a second and then a third orgasm in quick succession. We both collapsed into the bath, breathing heavily and slowly recovering from the oral assault.
As I stood up, my Pet rose to her knees and indicated she wanted to taste my cock some more. Who was I to deny her? After a few minutes of oral delight, what she did next I would never have dreamed of happening. Motioning for me to turn around she got me to bend forward. Once I was exposed she began to rim my ass. The feeling was out of this world and something that I will remember for a long time. Not wanting to come just yet, I turned and pulled her up into a warm embrace. Turning off the water we left the shower and dried each other off.
Following the shower session we were in need of sustenance . We called down for room service. Having finished our lunch we realized that our time together was quickly coming to an end. I wasn’t ready just yet to end our weekend. I was sure she had an orgasm or two left to give me.
The next orgasm was going to be extracted from her. I grabbed the sashes from the bath robes and tied her spread eagle to the bed. I then produced a pair of clover clamps and a leather crop. Both items I had arranged to borrow from Sir just in case the opportunity to play presented itself. With my Pet restrained on top of the bed, I reached over first to one nipple and tweaked it between my thumb and forefinger. As it hardened under my ministrations I applied the first clamp. Repeating the process for the second nipple I gently pulled on the attached chain to make sure I had applied them with sufficient grip. I placed the chain in my Pet’s mouth and instructed her to not let it go under any circumstance.
I then took the crop, and starting off gently, I worked the crop up and down her inner thighs and along her calves. Upping the intensity a notch, I played with the crop across her abdomen and around her breasts, careful not to hit or dislodge the clover clamps. As her breath hitched I knew it was time to take her on the journey to orgasm through the application of the crop alone.
Returning to her inner thigh I struck her with more force eliciting a release of breath and a jerking of her head, which in turn caused my Pet to pull on the nipple clamps which fed a surge of pain through her body directly to her clit. I followed with another blow, then another and another. Each one causing just a bit more pain and discomfort causing he head to jerk around pulling on her nipples which heightened her arousal.
As the finale for this orgasm I started striking her clitoris directly with the crop. Between the pain of the strike and the sensation through her nipples as she writhed about, she was close to orgasm. A few more blows and I could tell she was right on the edge of orgasm. Pausing for short period, her eyes opened, pleading with me to take her over the top. Not being one to deny a gorgeous woman I rained down one blow after another directly on her clit. Counting down from 10 through to 1 brought her to a rewarding and intense climax. I gently removed the clamps causing another mini orgasm as the blood returned to her nipples.
After untying her, I took her into my arms and soothed her shaking body. As her breathing returned to normal we began kissing. The sense of longing returned as we were both aware our time together was nearly over. The kissing became more passionate and urgent. My cock had stirred once again and I was desperate to end the weekend on a high. Our hands roamed all over our bodies and our desire was increasing. It was clear to me my Pet desired me to make passionate love to her, nothing kinky, just pure vanilla missionary sex, but so filled with meaning and desire that in the moment it just consumed us.
As we approached our mutual climax we poured everything into this final fuck. Leaving absolutely nothing in reserve, we reached the point of no return and as I exploded inside her, she came for the last time. Coming down from our joint climax we embraced for one last time before we got up to shower again and to get ready to leave the suite that had been our sanctuary for the weekend.
Before we left, however, I had one more duty I had to perform. Repeating the ritual from early on Saturday, but this time in reverse, I removed my collar and replaced it with Sir’s collar. This signified the end of our weekend together. We were both quiet for the remainder of the time we were in the suite. Both of us reflecting on our time together.
As we drove to her place we talked a little bit, but mostly we stayed with our own thoughts. I didn’t want to hang around for too long after we got back. I spent a short time with Sir talking about a few things from the weekend, but I felt like I was now intruding into their relationship so I made my farewells and left for the airport. Just before I left, I managed a final hug. With a heavy heart and some sadness we said our goodbyes.
As the plane accelerated down the runway, my final thought was this cannot be the end. I then settled back, closed my eyes and focused on rejoining my other life. Till next time my Pet.
This weekend was spent preparing for and hosting a two year old’s birthday party. And I do believe that it all went well. Lots of smiling faces and the kid got a pretty good haul. Maybe not the ideal weekend with no children and lots of moans and screams, but it could have been much worse.
Friday night, rather than working on the erotic story that I had in my head all day while I was the office, I turned into the crafty mom. Sir and I had talked about what a two year-old would really like for a party. Whacking something with a stick until candy falls out seemed the obvious choice. And, because I am my father’s daughter, I decided to make the pinata rather than buy it. It wasn’t too hard, actually. I was pretty happy with it. Not surprisingly, we still have a lot of cardboard boxes and painters tape laying around for just such an occasion.
Then Saturday was all about party prep. Luckily we had another set of hands as my mother-in-law came to help. A mass of divide and conquer to get all the groceries and cleaning done. It felt like a very productive day. Though I was bummed that I didn’t get a post up. I did get my Sinful Sunday post ready to go and the pinata was decorated. As I decided that my son wouldn’t really care what it looked like I went through my surplus craft supplies. I was happy with my first attempt.
And Sunday the party turned out wonderfully. We had great weather and the food was good. The poor birthday boy is working on his two-year molars and had a fever for most of the day. But some pain medication and a lot of people willing to cuddle with him helped. And, not surprisingly, when the opportunity arose to destroy my craft project, he felt just fine. His big brother, my brother, and our cousin had to help him, but annihilation was soon achieved.
And because I am a smart mom, I didn’t buy a lot of candy that Sir and I would eventually have to eat. Instead, I just used packs of fruit snacks that my children already fight over and Sir bought one bag of suckers. Family members were encouraged to fill their pockets before they went home. So we actually don’t have too many left. All in all, it was a good weekend. After everyone packed up and left the entire family (dog and all) crashed on the couch. A quick nap and some cartoons helped.
Not a terribly kinky weekend. Though one of my birthday presents arrived early and Sir had me wear it for a few hours yesterday during the party. Because he never makes me feel vanilla for too long 🙂
Our ‘baby’ turns 2 today. I remember going to the hospital to have him like it was yesterday. They were going to send us home. My contractions had stopped. Sir had called everyone to say ‘false alarm’ and tell them to turn around. And the doctor said no. After some less than sexy fisting, he determined that I had dilated more. So they decided to keep me. I wasn’t leaving that hospital without a baby. And we didn’t.
Now he’s a giant happy toddler who has perfected the act of pestering his older brother. Sir and I were both the eldest sibling in our families and we are pretty sure younger siblings get special classes. You must get pulled out of daycare or play group and trained on how to be as annoying as possible. With this is mind, our youngest paid very close attention to that lecture. I guess it’s a good skill to have. Any brats out there who want to come have a first hand lesson, let me know.
But, as independent as he is, he still requires pretty much constant supervision. So, any type of kink during the day is restricted unless he is napping or down for the night. Maybe I’ve just blocked it out, but I don’t remember our oldest getting into quite as much as this age. Part of it is that this one isn’t all about technology. He loves to be outside. Which is good in an exercise and general health way. But when he’s outside for five minutes and he gets covered in mud and throwing rocks at the side of the house it’s less good. At least he sleeps deeply so I can be loud during sex and not worry about waking him.
Admittedly, his birthday has me thinking about another baby. And as much as my hormones keep tugging, I just don’t think it’s right for us. Sir and I have always talked about three kids, but things change. Financially, we can do more for two without spreading ourselves too thin. Sports, activities, and travelling get expensive fast. And wanting to show your children the world means budgeting a lot.
However, there is another reason why I think we are done reproducing. And while it sounds selfish, I am perfectly okay with it. Sir and I want time. Even now, but more so as they get old, kids require time. Sport’s practices and games, recitals, play dates. Helping with homework and science fair projects all take time. And while I am more than happy to do all of those things (I know Sir is too), we both want time on our own. We want time to enjoy our own personal pursuits as well as time together.
We don’t want to feel guilty about spending several days at a kinky sex camp, or vacationing with another couple we want to play with. Taking a weekend and spending that money cannot be a once in a decade activity. Our kids are important to us and we love them very much, but when they grow up they will leave. Sir and I don’t want to wait until then to enjoy kink and what we can share together.
So I will probably shed a tear today as my baby is growing up. We won’t have anymore uses for our crib or the few pieces of baby clothes I kept, ‘just in case’. Our family is wonderfully complete with four. Not including however many dogs I can talk Sir into letting me have (obviously).
*For those curious about the photo. Yes, the white tile and the toilet are still blue. When we eventually get around to re-doing this bathroom, it will have a Teflon coating for easier cleaning.
Well, it’s happened. I’m no longer in my twenties. Yesterday I was tweeting with the hashtag #turning30, today I’m just using #old.
Alright, that’s enough whining and old jokes. I know that I’m still young. Maybe just as a history major I’m used to reading about times when you were lucky to live to 35.
I think I am just struggling with where I am verses where I thought I’d be. Growing up in the 90’s, I had this idea that at thirty I would be in an apartment, single and having various romantic antics. I would have either a roommate or a silly neighbor. I’d have excellent fashion sense and a big cuddly dog. After completing my Master’s degree in Scotland I got a high paying job in the ‘city’ and travel a lot. Various degrees of success with relationships and fun sexual adventures.
Isn’t that what everyone thought their life would be like?
Real life laughs at you sometimes. I never thought I would meet my husband in college. Or that I would struggle so much with starting my career. But a couple moves and two kids later, reality isn’t that bad. After we got married, we talked out kids and our life goals. I said that I wanted to try and be done having children by the time I was 30. Women in my mother’s family have had issues varying from cervical cancer to fibroid tumors and everyone has had a hysterectomy by 40. So, I did achieve my goal. Now I can enjoy my kids while I can still keep up with them and then Sir and I can enjoy our ‘golden’ years when they are gone.
Sir told me today how proud I should be of the life we have built together. And I am. We haven’t reached all our goals yet, but we’re getting there. Life has thrown a lot at us, but we’ve rolled with the punches well. Hopefully we’ll get a house sorted in the next ten years and maybe I’ll sort out a real job too.
So as I enter the next decade I’ll try not too focus on the number and look at everything that we have achieved so far. And, as we both start our thirties with kink and our new TPE relationship, I think we’ll both be happier old people.
So tomorrow I turn 30. I’ve been working on a post for a while now, but it just sounds like I’m whining. Fingers crossed that it comes together, for your sake as much as mine.
But last night I was just so happy that Sir was feeling better, I decided that a nice clean shave was in order. He agreed and monitored my work. I had a few strays (TMI?), but he helped me get them taken care off in his lovely sadist way. I think we made his cunt look pretty good.
He thought it was acceptable too. So much so, in fact, that it inspired him to give me one of my birthday presents early. I’m a sucker for a gift, so I was happy to let him spoil me. And I was certainly spoiled:
Isn’t it pretty? Sir bought it at Stockroom. This is my first hitachi-like vibrator.
I’ve never really had much luck with vibrators. Generally, a bullet vibe or even the vibrating dildos that I’ve tried just don’t get me there. I think for years I physically fought enjoying it. My brain demanded a physical connection with another person. Probably why masturbation was always a challenge too.
However, as I venture into my thirties tomorrow I am ‘seeing the light’ in many ways. Have a relaxing full orgasm through masturbation is still very difficult, but maybe my new toy can help. It certainly has a lot of power. Sir decided to test it out on his new clean shaven pussy. It is probably the most powerful sensation I’ve had on my clit at one time. I can completely understand how these things can be used for pain or pleasure. I’m not sure exactly which Sir was going for. I came, really hard, but I was also squirming all over the bed. Even after I came he kept it pressed to my clit and I could feel my entire pussy throbbing.
I love my new toy. I’m a little bummed that I’ve spent the first thirteenish years of my sexual activity without one. Looks like I have some time to make up for.
Sir and I both turn 30 this year. I don’t know how to feel about that. Don’t get me wrong, I know 30 is not old. But there is a certain defining moment status to this birthday. Married, with kids, and a career (him anyway); all we need is to buy our first house this year and we will have passed the ‘American Dream’ test. But is that all we are looking for?
Our birthdays, in April and August respectively, are often a time for reflection and personal goals. So far this year, however, both of our goals revolve around our new D/s responsibilities. While many would argue that we have found BDSM quite young, I know Sir and I both wish we had stumbled upon it earlier in our marriage. But that may have changed our current situation with kids and jobs, so maybe the timing was exactly what was needed. Just like the two of us meeting three years before we started dating, if we had tried to force it earlier, it may have completely fallen apart. And, what better time than a birthday to enjoy something so important to each of us.
Hopefully there will come a birthday where we can focus on memories and accomplishments of the previous year, but for now we look to a bright future ahead. We have a lot that we would like to sort out in this first year as Dom and sub. And I know that our birthdays this year will focus on these goals. Sir may even get my nipples pierced for my birthday this year. Or his birthday. I win either way.