i’m tired – and this is real life, not a story. If it were a story, someone would help me manage my time. And there would be spankings involved. Perhaps orgasms even.
But i digress. This is just me, feeling tired. It’s been a long week – and it’s only Wednesday. Another long day to go, and a short work day Friday, but ending with an activity connected with some volunteer work, followed by my usual early morning thing Saturday, and then a thing with grandkids Sunday. And it starts over on Monday.
It’s all things i want to do. There’s nothing on my to do list that i don’t want there, except taxes. i guess i’ll squeeze those into the weekend. Ugh.
If i were in a D/s relationship, i would want to spend some time in cock worship. Have i mentioned how much i love that? No? Well, i do.
i enjoy the opportunity to sit at his feet – or kneel at his feet, although i can’t do that for too long these days if i expect to actually get back up and walk again. But i love the feel of his cock, the taste, the way it responds to the tip of my tongue, and the flat of my tongue. And the way it fills my mouth and hits the back of my throat as i take it way deep down…
Cock worship is different from a blow job because it is not goal oriented. The point is not to make him cum – not to bring him to orgasm. The point is just to enjoy the cock. To savor the texture, the taste. To work at bringing pleasure. To appreciate the loveliness of cock.
Not all men enjoy that. Some prefer the quick rhythm of make-me-cum, mouth and hand working together on a hot, wet cock. i can do that too, and do it well, but not with quite the same gusto as when he lets me work with his cock, taking my time to get to know it, letting us bring him pleasure.
When i am finished – when he has cum, shooting hot sperm down my throat, i am spent. Tears running down my face from the times i’ve gagged, despite my best efforts, gagged when his cock hit the back of my throat. Barely able to move, i just want to rest in a pile at his feet, my head on his thigh. i love for him to caress my hair. To tell me i’m a good girl.
Those times, i’m tired in a different way – tired because i’ve succeeded in pleasing, not feeling like there’s always more waiting to be done.
i know i need to be in control of my schedule. i know that. But i miss that feeling of letting go of it all and putting my self under his control, his direction.