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| His specific kind of chips, Aldi version. I spoiled Angel Boy and I'm so glad. |
The last time Angel Boy came over, I got into a princess costume right away, just because. He let me pick out a dress for him to wear as well. I wish you could see how beautiful he was. I wish I had taken more pictures, darn me being so present and in-the-moment!
After our politics/I love yous adventure, I wanted Angel Boy and I to really talk, so I tried this dice game that worked before, with The Shy One. When I proposed the idea, he seemed so excited, but by the night of the date, he had forgotten. He just wanted to watch Adventure Time and cuddle, but he got into the game pretty quickly. He said I was glad I'd thought of it, he really didn't know how to talk about any of that stuff.
I knew I was codependent-ing, trying to run the whole connection on my own because I sensed that no forward motion would come from his end. Being an artist and a codependent, I feel like I can sometimes conjure whole relationships one-sidedly, carry them along on my own momentum and effort until the resentment and inertia become too much, never knowing what's real or mutual. Also though, I have Relationship OCD, so not knowing what's real or mutual is part of my day-to-day life.
The plan for the evening, after we talked, was birthday spanks! We'd joked that I would get 204 spanks, 52 on each cheek with hands, then flogger. His flogger looked a little flimsy, but I looked forward to it with delight anyway. I've been woefully unspanked the last few birthdays, oh no!
But first, episodes. It took us a while to figure out where we'd left off in our Adventure Time viewing, but we landed on one that featured a surprising amount of spanking for a kids' show! The coziness between us was swift and thorough, bonded on the couch like the little pack animals that we are.
I asked if I could sit at his feet and put my head on his knee, and he said yes. I spread out a blanket on the floor and settled into a beatific pink glow, a magic stillness. I asked to make sure my tiara wasn't poking him. My pink tutu felt dreamy but not surreal, just me being me. He scritched my head in a rhythm that suggested he was either really in the groove or absent-minded, who's to say.
Angel Boy described himself as a Soft Daddy Dom (on reflection, he's actually none of those things) and I felt it. Though I was a ways away from being able to use the D-word with him, I felt it in my heart. I felt charmed, cherished, and safe. I felt right-size in the universe, insignificant and awed. The peace between us was thick and soporific, there'd be no spanks tonight.