Chasing Me Chasing You

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

Just one of those days

Tuesday was just an off day. I really tried not to let it bother me. I tried to be positive and up beat as I struggled with each little annoyance. But it didn’t work. It took so much energy to wear a smile through each an every problem that by the time I drove home after work I had a massive headache. And having a headache as you walk  into a home with two toddlers (one of which is sick) is not a good plan.

The 2 year-old is on the mend. My dad came to stay with him on Monday so Sir and I could both go to work. Yesterday, however, we had to tag team time off. I stayed home in the morning so he could go to a meeting and then I went into the office in the afternoon. Getting to lounge around in comfy clothes was nice. But the crying child made it slightly less relaxing. That and my brain constantly worrying about the piles of work on my desk kept the morning rather tense.

Once I got into the office things calmed down. Except, of course, one of my co-workers who decided that I smeared my son’s snot all over my clothes before I left. She was positive that I was merely an incubator for my son’s illness to infect her immediately. This, while slightly annoying, would have been easy to ignore. But she let my presence sour her entire mood and preceded to sigh and grump to everyone for the rest of the afternoon.

This was after Monday when I got the call that my son was sicker than we thought. That was when she informed me that that is why she was a stay at home mom (her kids are college-age now). Because, obviously, since I was a working mother, that explained why my son was ill. Like I was being punished for my employment or something.

Sorry for the mini-rant, but without significant outside assistance, it is very difficult to be a one-income family anymore. If you can do it, good for you. But don’t judge and tell me that I am somehow a poor parent because it’s something that I have to/choose to do. I love my job. Don’t even try to make me feel guilty about it.

So, anyway, headache when I got home…

It wasn’t even like I could enjoy a good drink and a hard fuck either. My calories for the day were shot and after two nights of little sleep Sir and I were knackered. Well, almost knackered 🙂

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

Positive Vibes

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.

The pinata in its un-decorated, cardboard stage.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.

The pinata all decorated in rainbow pride.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.

The pinata, post whackingAnd 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 🙂

I wish sex was as rough as my life

Yesterday was rough. I have meeting with my doctor every once and awhile to talk about my meds and how I’ve been feeling. Our meeting went well, we just started talking about all the things coming up in the next month or so. About how the renovation was more expensive than we planned and how the kids being sick has kept me from working on the business when I get home. How Sir is stressed with his own job and other family crap that refuses to give him closure. It was nice to talk to her, and she even said she was impressed that it seemed I was handling things well.

And I was…until I got in the car. The whole way home the panic attack was crawling under my skin. When I got home Sir noticed that something was wrong, but he had to get ready for work. He asked if I was okay and the damn broke. I felt terrible doing that to him and then him having to leave for work; he didn’t need that. Everything just felt like a wave trying to carry me off with it. I’m a good swimmer (literally and figuratively), but this riptide is wicked. Someday I’ll write about the time I actually nearly drowned in a riptide (sorry, it seemed on topic).

The positive bits and pieces and each day aren’t overshadowing or even balancing out the negative lately. Those brief moments of bliss when I wake up in the morning, or when Sir gives me release don’t add up to staring at a pile of bills and a house that needs cleaned and in many cases still unpacked. I know this will pass.

The new job is going well. There is a lot to learn, but everyone is nice and positive about my progress. The long weekend will be good too. Definitely going to save my calories so I can have a drink or two.

Everyone in my life is just under a lot of stress. The twitter boyfriend has a mountain I can’t even begin to explain. I hate bugging him with anything less than fantastic news to brighten his day. Sir’s work stress continues. My parents are condo shopping, which is turning out to not be as fun as my mother expected. It’s just hard to find refuge in people when everyone else is looking for it too.

Yesterday was just the price of doing business I guess.

Coming Down

I have been in a shitty mood lately. Not really sure why.

I think I have been riding the high of getting this job so fast and finally feeling good about my career. Now that I’ve been going for a week and half, it’s just my job. I’m still very new to everything and schedules are still being sorted, but the high is gone. Now I come home to a million things to do and have less time with the kids and Sir. Dinners have been quite haphazard and not the healthiest. It’s just part of the overall transition and I’m not handling it the best. Are you really surprised?

At least the mood isn’t because of the diet. I am trying to work out how to spread my calories across the day so that I have energy in the evening. I feel bad crawling into bed when I lay the 4yo down. Sir and I are going to forget what each other’s genitalia look like soon. Well, he’s not, because he can just look at my cunt on the blog, but I’m getting fuzzy. In reality the diet is going well. The pounds aren’t falling off as fast as I’d like, but I’m not really known for patience. My push-ups and sit-ups have made my arms and abs very sore though. Sir is jealous. The other night in bed he kept having me roll over as he knew it hurt and wanted me to continue to hiss in pain. Sadists *slowing shakes head*.

Even with all this schedule madness, we are hoping for some good scene time this weekend. Maybe some fun toys, and some lovely hitty things. Rope and pain in the basement sounds like a great way to spend a Saturday. After my workout and mowing the lawn, of course. And the meal planning for dinners next week and the subsequent grocery run. And changing the sheets and the general weekly clean. On second thought, maybe Sir can just squeeze my nipples first thing in the morning before the boys start yelling for cartoons and fruit loops. There might be enough time for that.

All dressed up and no where to go

Well, one of those things is true. This is the first weekend in probably the last three months when we don’t have to run around doing something. Family is coming to us for Mother’s day on Sunday. So aside from mowing the lawn, I’ve got a short list. Don’t get me wrong, there are still a million boxes to unpack and sort, but I’m learning to focus on a few a day. At least we have the coffee.

T-24 hours

Our last day in this house and I’m read to count down the minutes. The boys are going to Grandma’s tonight. So our last night in the house will be just Sir and I. While I would love to say that we’ll be spending tonight doing a big scene as a send off to this part of our lives, we’ll probably take the boys’ beds apart and go to bed early. Not very sexy, but this time tomorrow we’ll be loading up the truck and being sore and tired doesn’t seem like a good plan.

Today is a lot of rushing around to get done what I can. Packing up bags for the boys will be quick. Then it’s just packing and more packing. The poor dog has been panicking a little more with each box, so I know she’s going to be glad when this is over.

There is just a lot of emotion filling the house today. We talked to the boys this morning about saying goodbye to the house. The 20mo doesn’t really get it, but the 4yo does. He switches from excited to angry depending on the moment. The plan is to try and have both of their rooms basically put together when they get there on Sunday, so hopefully the transition won’t be too traumatic. I mean, the jungle gym will be up in the back yard, so I think they’ll be fine.

Work baggage is getting to Sir though. He will be drastically adding to his commute and his boss has been anything but understanding during this stressful time. I understand that businesses have to run, but they are staffed by real people with real problems. I guess I just expected a little more understanding from her. Not sure why. Though my boss has been amazing about my hours between the move and my mom’s accident. My old jobs had understanding bosses as well; I guess I was luckier than I realized.

But I have a pretty strict mission today. Lots of packing and moving as much as I can to the first floor. Anything to try and save time tomorrow. And all this lifting is making up for the fact that I haven’t been able to do a proper workout in about two weeks.

A perfect evening

Some people love to get dressed up and go out to a fancy restaurant or a club until the whee hours of the morning. Wearing a tight sexy dress and matching eye shadow, dancing with friends while perfectly balancing a martini in one hand and a phone taking pictures in the other. Hardly noticing the four-inch heels amid the thumping music and fruity cocktails. Crashing into bed around 3am, possibly with someone they met that evening to enjoy a good fuck before passing out.

This, in case it wasn’t painfully obvious, is not my idea of a perfect evening. Not judging if it’s yours, go you for having stamina that I will never have. I like to go to a club and dance (or at least I did ten years ago), but now I just feel old and out of place. That and the small scraps of handkerchief that girls can wear in most clubs wouldn’t cover my stretchmarks very well.

No, my night idea of a perfect evening (date-wise) was last night. The boys went to grandma’s for the weekend, she came to pick them up after daycare. After they left Sir decided we would have a night in. We ordered some wings from a local place we wanted to try (it was amazing, by the way) and curled up with a few beers in front a backlog of TV. It was great. Just sitting on our comfy couch in comfy clothes with a cold drink and something to dip in blue cheese dressing. When we were slightly buzzed we went upstairs. He got to chill out in front of a video game where he could kill lots of random baddies and I got to write smut. It was so relaxing just to be in the same room with him while enjoying our relaxing past-times without kids or other responsibilities. Just me cuddling with the dog and working on several erotica story lines while Sir saved some land from some bad guy with a string of amazing weapons and combo moves (ok, I may pick on him a tad for some of the gaming).

Not to be out done with the ‘things we never get to do when the kids are home’ part of the evening, we had ice cream. Mine was coffee chocolate chunk, or just orgasm flavored.

There was kinky fuckery as well, but honestly, that wasn’t what made the evening amazing. Just having the time together made it special. However, since this is my pitiful attempt at a sex blog there was some fun oral before we crashed into bed and had a blissful, full night of sleep. Then I was awoke this morning to a cock pressing into my back. Some more oral and fucking til it hurt (the best part, obviously) and now Sir is in the shower. We are heading to the new house today to do some more painting and prep work. Hoping to start moving stuff in next week. I’m sure I’ll make you guys suffer through a new reno update as the new cabinets are in and the counter-top was supposed to arrive yesterday.

Hope everyone has a lovely Saturday. And feel free to let me know what your perfect evening is. I’ll just be here in my sweat pants with my beer again tonight and would love to read about them.

Good Mood Friday

In a good mood this morning. But it’s tattoo appointment day, so I’m starting off on a good foot. The baby (yeah, he’s 20 months old, but he’ll always be my baby) felt better last night so we’re sending him back to daycare this morning. Hopefully he is through this round of teething fevers as I won’t be back home until later tonight and I don’t want Sir to have to take another day off work.

With everyone healthy(ish) I making my monthly(ish) trip to the head office at work. At this point it’s mostly just to catch up with the boss. We chat over coffee for a few hours and then I head to my tattoo appointment. Right now we mostly talk about the house renovation, but if there are procedure changes we discuss those as well. It seems to work for both of us, so I’m not complaining. Once we move it will add a bit more time to this trip, so I’ll be making less of them.

Today’s tattoo trip is to add another cameo to the sleeve. I thought I was done, but once we put the lace trim on the bottom it became apparent that there was going to be a big gap that would make the piece look off-balance. So Sir is going to get his own cameo after all. Not that I was really excluding him, but he does have several pieces of his own already. But when my tattoo guru said I need one more, I knew just what to do. Since Sir decided to go to law school and focus on the environment I have called him the Lorax. We knew he would never be one to work with big companies, he was always going to be fighting for the little guy. So he is my speaker for the trees. So his cameo will be the stump from the end of the story and the word ‘unless’. Because I’m a sappy goober who loves Dr. Seuss books and my hairy Dom.

Tomorrow we are headed to the new house again. The mother-in-law is taking the kids so we have two nights alone. Trying not to have too many expectations, but some dirty pictures would be fun. With the lovely spanking from last night, the healing nipples, and the tattoo today, I should be all kinds of sore. All soreness I asked for though, so no complaints here.

The Good, the Bad, and the Physical labor

Down to the house today. The kids are going to grandmas and we are painting all day. Hopefully we will get most of the bedrooms painted. Then the last big project will be refinishing all of the floors.

My twitter boyfriend finally talked me into joining his twitter exercise group. It’s really a good thing. I need help being held accountable. And the group is nice. But, of course, me being me, felt the need to start strong. I found a good leg stretch routine. Even coming down the stairs after my shower and hour and a half later I ached. If it were my pussy I would be happy about it.

It’s going to be a long day, but Sir and I have the night alone together. Hopefully we’ll still have some energy tonight. Fingers crossed.

Stockpiled Cravings

So yesterday I found myself doing something I haven’t done in a long time (well, since last week). I felt it growing all afternoon and it ruined my entire day: I started building expectations.

I having been working since we picked up D/s again to reign in my expectations. I need to give him the space to handle all of his workload and everything at home. But this weekend the boys are going to grandma’s. Right now the plan is for her to come and get the kids Friday afternoon and we’ll figure out how we are getting them back sometime on Sunday. That’s two nights. Two whole nights of sleep and opportunities to play. And I do. I really really want to play. Not just fuck. That’s nice, and I certainly won’t complain if/when that happens. But a chance for some rough play sounds so good. Almost necessary. Some lovely marks for a Sinful Sunday photo would go amiss either.

We haven’t played with any sort of bondage or role-play in a long time. Control has been pretty limited, due to time and his comfort level, and I want to be respectful of that. We rushed into things last time and even if it took a few years, he burnt out. We need to take it slow so that that doesn’t happen again.

But expectations are tricky. They are a mixture of our fantasies and the brightest possible reality we can imagine. We can try and suppress them, or alter them to prepare us for what is more likely to happen. In my experience that rarely works. Once the expectation has been created, I fail miserably at changing it. It makes no difference how much I may want to.

It’s not like I want to be disappointed. I don’t knowingly do this to torture myself. And I hate the idea of making him feel guilty for not meeting my fantasy for a particular evening or scene. If it was something I could turn off I would.

I guess I should try and take it as a positive. I mean, I crave him. I crave the submission he has the power to demand and pull from me. And I love all the of the deliciously filthy fantasies that my mind creates for our time together. I guess at least that means I haven’t given up. I haven’t gotten to the point where I just assume that our nights together will be joyless. That’s something, right? Given the option, I would rather have an unfulfilled expectation of being bound up in rope and beaten to a lovely red than just giving up and going to bed. The bad mood that comes from that unfulfilled fantasy doesn’t last too long. And it’s not like we couldn’t get the chance to fulfill it some other time.

So I have high hopes for this weekend. Two nights without kids will hopefully also mean at least one night of fun (maybe one night of sleep). The expectations will likely continue for the foreseeable future while we work to find a new balance with D/s in our lives. The unfulfilled fantasies will be replaced by those that are fulfilled. And fulfilled for the right reasons rather than just my selfish cravings.

But it’s always good to have a few fantasies stockpiled away for just right moment.
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