Frilly Friday: Ribcage Harness

 

I'm really missing The Boy Who Brought Flowers, even though we only chatted for a week! Many happy paragraphs to come! 

In the meantime, I'm really grateful that he inspired me to pick up the ropes again, and I think this is just so cute!

Knotty Thursday: Tinsel and the Fancy Purple Thing!

 Before I get to Wednesday night shenanigans, there's a lot to say about Tuesday night! I have finally redeemed the Big Fancy Garden! The Shy One let me take him there for our Christmas date, and it was an absolutely PERFECT night.

As soon as we stepped out of the entrance building, a deep night-before-Solstice hush came over my whole being. The trees and archways were lit bright and the stars sparkled above in the clear, cold sky. The Shy One is tropical at heart, so he grumbled a bit about the low temp, but it was a good-natured Luke Daines kind of grumbling. He bought us hot chocolates. We took a jillion pictures of trees and lights and flowers. I asked a stranger to take our picture together.

On the drive home, I put on my  A She and Him Christmas CD until it made me too sleepy, then he DJed from his Spotify list. My tire light came on, so we pulled into a gas station to check them, and then the tire light went off.

And then, back at my place, the presents. I knew he would go all out (See: post-Ramadan princess tea cup!) and I don't have much money this year, so I painted him a little painting and made him a photo scrapbook of our cuteness so far. I got him Knots: The Complete Visual Guide and a start to his rope collection, black and silver. 

And then, his gifts for me!  A rose candle. Two pretty-scented lotions. He's always perfect with candles and lotions! And THEN, the lingerie.

I've always LOVED lingerie. I started collecting it from thrift stores when I was a teen, and lord knows this blog has seen its share of pretty bras and special-occasion undies.

But these.

These are surprise-from-a-boyfriend-in-the-best-kind-of-chick-lit-novel lacy things. They are Princess Slut Goddess lacy things. They are FANCY. 

One of the tamer pictures The Shy One took!

I tried on one set during the date, and I'll keep that lovefest mostly to myself for now, but all day yesterday, while I was blazing along through my Christmas chores, doing festively half-assed work sessions, and avoiding folding the laundry, I daydreamed about the Fancy Purple Thing. When my last client of the day cancelled, I rushed home to be with myself, to wrap myself in rope and tinsel and The Shy One's lacy love language. Very, very festive indeed.

Self Adventure: I Heart My New Toy!!

On Saturday when I went to drop off the ropes, our meeting place happened to be right by my favorite sex toy shop. I’d just gotten my job back and my birthday’s coming, so I decided it was the perfect day to buy my first butt plug.

I get a gold star because I did such a good job of asking the salesgirl questions about which materials and lubes were the best. She steered me towards silicone and of course I chose the lavender one. I looked at the little size, I looked at the big size, and with hope (and honesty) in my heart I chose the big one. It sure doesn’t fit in there but I imagine I’ll grow into it.

Once I had what I needed, I couldn’t wait to get home. My bus took forever to show up and I was tingly and smushy for the whole ride.

Sometimes I like to get fancy for myself so when I got home I put on a purple lace top and lay down on the bed. I lubed my new toy and placed it under my ass, eased it in and felt a rush of urgency and joy. I pushed down on it as hard as I could, rocking back and forth onto it and rubbing my nipples through the lace. I did that for a long time, happy moans and wiggly butt.

When I got around to touching my pussy, it was wetter and more swollen than I’d ever made it on my own before. The harder ass-thrusts brought about eensy little squirty feelings up front—I definitely am capable. I told myself not to be embarrassed to just go ahead and let it happen when it’s time. I may have actually said it aloud.

I was so excited that I was giving all of this amazingness to myself—it was an enthusiasm that felt a lot like new love.  I got out the original Big Purple Thing, turned it on, ran in over my nipples and showed it inside, the two toys ratcheting up the sensation exponentially. At that moment I had a realization that I’m embarrassed it took me so long to get to—I turned off the Big Purple Thing and put it in my mouth. I licked it, sucked it, shoved it down my throat. I turned it back on and ran it over the part of my cheek that always wants to get slapped. I ran in over my pussy and then sucked it some more.

My entire body was thrumming and thrilled. I sat up and pushed harder into the too-big butt plug, fucking it hard and feeling my pussy open further and further, wetter and wetter. I alternated sucking off the Big Purple Thing with  putting my hand over my mouth until I was in a frenzy, then I pushed the Big Purple Thing up my hoo-ha and fucked myself hard until I came. (Not in the fancy new way yet, but still.) I couldn’t believe I’d done all that for myself! I was so proud.

Whenever my ass comes into play, though, I get a little fear-hangover from it, a little triggering. It usually lasts for about half a day. I sometimes wonder if maybe when the bad thing happened in high school they might’ve done things to my ass while I was passed out, but I think it’s more likely that it’s just garden-variety shame. There are so many layers of it that still need peeling away.

I took the rest of the night to myself, wrapped up in a pretty sheet and watched sitcoms. I am so excited for my next self-date, and the next. And the next!