When Normal and Perverse Happen Simultaneously

As I've said before, I love dichotomy.  I love something going on that's unseen or unknown to anyone around but my Master and myself.  Something happened the other night that I just have to write about.  I find that I mostly want to blog when I have something slutty to say.  So, I guess I'm resigned to the fact that my blog is not filled with thought-provoking intelligent BDSM discussions. And more so just filled with the smut that permeates my brain. I don't even know if I love to blog about it so much because I want to brag about my Master and our super hot experiences or if it's because I want to relive and memorialize it through my writing.  Either way, I write when the muse strikes.

The whole situation the other night was such an ultimate fantasy type thing for me.  I will explain.  I have a fairly common submissive's fantasy.  I love the whole being naked while He's completely dressed thing.  The very obvious demonstration of him completely in control, almost seeming bored by it all. And then there's me, wanting to cum, begging to cum, caring about nothing other than my throbbing pussy, my too-hard nipples, wanting/needing to be fucked and used. Meanwhile, he's talking to me on the phone and he's grocery shopping.

Damn, I'm getting ahead of myself again.  Always getting straight to the wanting/begging to cum.  I know one thing that's becoming abundantly clear to me is that I'm an orgasm-addict.  I have to struggle to keep myself from begging every single day to have a play.  I know he's limiting my orgasms because he can.  And I hate to admit it, but when I'm cumming less, I certainly do appreciate them more.  I just get to an I-hate-the-world-you-can-all-piss-off place pretty intensely when it's been a few days.  But I've really been working hard to get past my own selfish needs and swallow down the hornies.  Plus, I'm not above begging to cum, explaining how I'm going to die, explode, launch into outer space, etc.  And although I won't ever say Master is too generous in this area, I will say that he keeps me sane, yet still under his thumb.  And most certainly not the lazy masturbating slut who never had time for much beyond her toy bag that I had occasions of being before I was his.

So here he is, walking around Tesco, grabbing a few groceries.  And I can't hold back my inner whore.  My inner whore is so insatiable.  She'd love to get fucked and spanked and hurt and made to cum so much that the English language no longer exists.  But she wants that shit every day!  So I don't listen to my inner whore much.  But sometimes, I can't contain the need any longer.  And I start telling him about my hands and they can't stop touching my body (while I'm at home, in a dark room, in a bed, with comfie clothes on and easy access to all my most needy and whorish places) and he's walking around a brightly-lit grocery store, (obviously) completely dressed and normal-seeming, just talking to me like we're talking about the weather.  

And we were talking about something, which obviously has slipped my mind. But every few minutes I'd tell him how I couldn't keep my hands out of my panties.  And I couldn't stop running my hands over my rock hard nipples.  I was just teasing myself and making myself crazy.  I'd just blogged about how I kinda lose my mojo when I go so very long without cumming with/for him.  So he knew how desperate I was for that kind of connection. 

And at the same time, I was trying so hard not to cross the line if he just wanted me to tease myself and nothing more than that.   He's walking around the store, "oh, look diet coke is on sale."  And he'd said I could touch myself, maybe even said I could fuck myself with my fingers (actually, I know he must've, there's no way I'd do this without permission).  I get so foggy when I'm just full-on in the slutty moment, I can't tell you what/how it was said.  But beyond just teasing myself and being so lost in that, I'm also thinking about his sadistic side.  And I truly wasn't sure if he was going to really let me cum.  I wouldn't put it past him to let me work myself all up and then be like, "girl, I am in the grocery store.  You need to behave" or something equally horrible.  And then I would've pouted and tried to not feel psychotic.

So here's the fantasy.  I keep trying to get control of myself.  He's in a public place, doing a vanilla normal thing and yet here I am, nothing but a needing, begging, panting, fucking myself, rubbing myself, pinching myself sex object.  But then I stopped myself, because what the fuck?  He's in a grocery store for God's sake, walking around in a public place.  I really am nothing but a wanton whore.  But I truly couldn't stop myself. And more importantly, he wasn't encouraging me, but wasn't stopping me either! He just continued our talk about whatever it was about (groceries maybe?)  And I finally stopped touching myself and said, "I have to stop, I'm going to cum" and that's what he said those most hoped-for words.  "I didn't tell you to stop" when I realized.  He's actually going to let me cum while he's getting diet coke and milk and snacks!!!!

So I fucked myself into oblivion.  I have to say, Mr. G's limiting my orgasms and inner whore like he does makes me appreciate the simple things in life.  Like his voice, a dark room and my usually too-short can't quite hit the right spots fingers.  When I started to beg to cum and he told me to cum for him, I didn't care what was fucking me, he told me I could cum and that was all I needed to hear.  God, I really didn't think I could cum that hard without my toys!!  It was so intense, when he was saying "good girl" afterwards, my pussy was clenching my fingers so tight, I was like...hmmm...not letting go. It was like a five-minute orgasm.

The convenient part is, I had time to recover from my earth-shattering o while he checked out. So I could try and regather my thoughts and then I could attempt to be the interesting and entertaining slave my Master deserves while he's at work and running errands instead of an orgasm-addicted junkie who can do nothing more than talk dirty and beg for plays. I wonder if there's an herbal remedy for this addiction....some tea I can drink or bath I can soak in that makes me feel more like most 30-something-year-old married women, instead of the raving nymphomaniac that I tend to be.