Meanwhile! Birthday Week Spanks from Puzzle Guy!

 We had our first date weeks ago, a diner that closed too early and a delicious afternoon watermelon mojito instead. I wasn't sure about him, but I'm pretty sure all of dating is uncertainty for me to practice with my OCD therapist.

Late August can eat up your life in its own special way, but we finally got together this week. (We did have date 1.5 by text one evening when I had cute undies on and was feeling horny, but that's another story.)

I love a puzzle that's about a tea set, with cakes and china and flowers. Usually, there are cats, but this one is catless. It makes up for that error by being full of pink and patterns and legible sky pieces. Puzzle Guy really did come over to work on the puzzle, it's not a euphemism. 

He wanted to do a good job, I could tell by the way he tried to smoosh the pieces together instead of casually sifting and sorting like I like to. It was midafternoon after his Cute Guy Job released him. He'd biked over and was sweaty- his scent was gorgeous and made me sure I would kiss him. First though, nuzzling our feet under the puzzle table, cute as can be.

After we'd puzzled and chatted enough, I sent him downstairs so I could change. Pink or red, I asked, and was glad when he said red. I put on my beautiful red bra and panty set, a matching red lace nightie, a soft flowered robe. This outfit always make me feel a little sexy-in-quotation-marks, but I love it for that too. Hard to miss the opportunity to feel hot when you're all in red lace.

We kissed (It's such a joy when someone you think will be a good kisser is a good kisser!!) before I bent over the bed for my birthday spanks. His hits were strong and stinging, and I wiggled and kicked my feet with delight. He was commanding, but silly too, just the way I like to be dominated. A guttural moan came all the way from my solar plexus, deep relief and celebration.

He couldn't stay long, but he did leave his sneakers, so I guess he'll have to come back! Thanks for helping me start my birthday week right, Puzzle Guy. Come back and get your shoes and me!

Perfect Friday Night With Dreamy Playlist Angel, Part Three

I would really like to bite this butt next time I see it!
And also spank it! Possibly also spoon up next to it and go to sleep.

Despite the name, I've totally been forgetting to tell you about his playlist! In Such Great Heights, A Complete Cultural History of the Indie Rock Explosion, (The book I'm still reading and which The King of Carrot Flowers finished weeks ago!) Chris Deville says it's a typical male fantasy that some girl (Or in my case, some Manic Pixie Dream Mature) is gonna come along and tell a guy he has great taste in music. I guess I fulfill that fantasy pretty regularly! When I was younger and (even) sillier, I thought new music could only come via a cute boy, even if that's never really how I collected it.

ANYWAY, since Dreamy Playlist Angel introduced himself by way of complimenting my Sleater Kinney t-shirt and mentioning a Portlandia rewatch (What would the Gen-X equivalent of this be? Complimenting a Strawberry Alarm Clock tee and mentioning a Monkees marathon? Either way, I'm in.) I had no qualms about asking him to choose the music for our rope time--and that was the correct choice.

Off the couch and upstairs with the candles lit and the cat crated, I felt a jolt of joy as we found the bight and square-knotted the ropes. Dreamy Playlist Angel, with his sculpture-y shoulders and sweet-but-not-too-sweet demeanor, was such a warm and beautiful and inviting canvas.

I hadn't practiced on anyone besides me in the longest time! The ropes felt easy on him, flowy and smooth. I reached around his waist to loop the ropes around, rested my cheek in the crook of his neck for a moment. Kissed his sweet neck and his soft, politely-eager mouth. Good Boy. He's so good.

I wish he'd wanted a picture of the front of him, the harness came out so nice! He looked so pretty and sexy with the loops and knots over his chest, swooping up between his legs and squeezing his butt crack all snug.

His music was dreamy but not overwhelmingly feelings-y! Sweet and swoony at times (Thinkin' Bout You by Frank Ocean! My favorite thing to sing!) but leavened by silliness. Plus! Surprising amounts of saxophone!

Dancing around to indie-rock sax while putting the finishing touches on a beautiful man's hishi karada seems like a very wise way to spend a few moments of my one wild and precious life. 

 

Knotty Thursday: Heart Update and (Sort of) Hishi Karada

When The Shy One came over for our second date on Monday night (He brought Hershey Kisses and two kinds of wine. We painted watercolors together! What a dear.) I didn’t want to spend too much time on the ropes, gorgeous as we both looked in them. (He did such a good job putting a harness on me for the first time!) With The Shy One, it’s much less about the kink than about the CUDDLING. He’ll hurt me when I ask him to, and he doesn’t mind getting spanked (Oh! Just the cutest butt in the universe! Have I said that before? Are all the butts the cutest butt in the universe? Probably.) but mostly, it’s the CARESSES. He’s a very snuggly sweetheart, and that’s his pet name, Sweetheart—he is decidedly NOT a Boy.

The Shy One kisses, fucks, and communicates with the extremely welcome attention to detail of a happily married man. I want to send his wife a thank-you note for every one of his expert kisses. OH, the KISSES.

Today, I’m a little jangled because it’s sinking in that I *like* him just as he needs to disappear for a month. (Just physically disappear, he’ll still be able to send texts and adorable Bitmojis of the two of us and maybe even call sometimes.) I won’t see him for most-if-not-all of April because of Ramadan. I admire the commitment and tradition so much, but also I cried a little bit about it this morning.

Which is silly. Because this is all good news! I like a good man with a kind heart and a solid foundation—yay!

Back to his visit Monday night. For a tiny little while, after paintings and ropes and sex and me making nervous jokes about our music choices having too many feelings, he pulled my hand up over his heart and fell asleep. I’m not allowed to joke about the feelings-y music anymore because “All I Need Is a Miracle” came on my spring playlist. Because of course it did.