The Challenge

My Master loves to surprise me. He calls unexpectedly sometimes and I
get so flustered still. As a matter of fact, I still get so giggly
and silly, yesterday on the phone I couldn't stop. I just kept
giggling and blushing. Luckily, Mr. G was at work and it wasn't too
long of a conversation. Minutes after we hung up, I was laughing at
myself, how silly I am! I often remind myself of that scene from
Dirty Dancing where Baby kind of just crashes the party and when he
asks her how she got in there she says "I carried a watermelon." I
say the most inane things to him just LIKE that! It's so
embarrassing! Luckily, he finds it endearing that I'm so enamored
with him.

Yesterday Mr. G surprised me by saying yes to one of the crazier
things I've said lately. He said he had to go but would call me back
in 25 minutes. And I said something like I should see how many times
I can cum in that 25 minutes. He laughed and said that's a good idea!
OHMYGOD. Master knows there are times that I just need to cum and
cum and cum until I'm barely conscious. My need to cum is more than
just rubbing one off real quick. Sometimes, I just need to be used
completely up. And I love a challenge! I wanted to truly impress and
amaze him. I knew it could be an impressive number and I needed to
fuck myself and hurt myself and fill up all my holes and make myself
cum and cum and cum. I loved that he said yes and I could hear him in
my head, urging me on to each orgasm.

And there were lots, let me tell you. I was smart, though. I had a
piece of paper and a marker next to me to help me keep count. I knew
my brain would shortly turn to mush. And as it turned out, it was
more like 40 minutes!! I even did something I'm sure I've never done
before. I was trying to achieve the trifecta, three clit orgasms.
Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure I've had three clit orgasms in one
play session, but it's really mostly elusive. Usually I give up for
fear of stroking out and dying with toys lodged in my body. Not a
very proud way to go! But yesterday, I pushed myself. And got that
third clit orgasm. I even did the really really rare back-to-back
clit orgasms, without taking the jackhammer off my body, just moving
it to different places and keeping at it, cumming almost as soon as
I'd recovered from the third with a fourth. Truly amazing! And my
grand total? Fourteen.

I have not been blogging much because in my spare time, I am working
on a book with Mr. G. So any writing or creative thoughts I've had
lately have gone in that direction. I wish I could clone myself and
one of me could just sit at the computer all day long, writing.

I am Pavlov's Dog

I find it no coincidence that the last three mornings on my drive into
work, the song that is Mr. G's ringtone played on my ipod shuffle mix.
And even though I know it's not him calling, I find my body
physically reacting, like I'm about to get to talk to him. And then,
I almost go into a trance, having a highlight reel of personal porn
running through my head as I drive through stop-and-go rush hour
traffic.

All three times, my nipples got hard, my pussy wet. I found my
breathing going into that shallow, almost panting feeling. I'm pretty
sure I moaned this morning, too. But I'm always all post-coital glow
after I cum for/with my Master. And post-coital glow doesn't necessarily
mean I need to cum so very badly. I'm in more of a ....moaning, sensitive
nipples, foggy, content place. It's amazing how being a dirty whore for
him really rights everything in my world that has gone askew.

And last night, he was in rare form. It really is funny how when he's
in an especially teasing and giving me a hard time mood (sadistic) I
get so turned on. I used to get defensive and sensitive and hurt
feelings all the time. And now when he makes fun of me or taunts me,
I go to my foggy, turned on slave place.

I often pace around while I'm on the phone with him. It's hard for me to
be still. Let me tell you, I get *tons* of housework done while we chat.
But other times, I find I can't hardly move and need to be lying in a dark
private room with him and just drink in his....himness. So I'm in the
guest room, t&k are doing the nightly won't go to sleep and give us adult-time dance and I'm whispering provocative things at him and feeling like my body might explode.

He tells me "Go lock the door." Now, let me tell you. I wouldn't put
a THING past Mr. G when he's feeling sadistic. So I never get my
hopes up immediately. I could just hear how hard he'd laugh if he
acted like he was going to let me cum for him and then said I
couldn't.

"Really, or are you fucking with me?" I think was my response. I
could barely talk. Just thinking about it now, his voice saying those
words to me, I'm shaking.

"Really. Go lock the door."

Oh my. And he told me to take my bottoms and knickers off. That is
so fucking hot. My knickers. Anyway, I digress. So he has me touch
my pussy, to see if I'm wet. And, huge shock here, I'm soaked. But
it's more than that. My pussy is emanating heat like a furnace. My
clit is so swollen and sensitive, just brushing across it to feel
between my lips and see if I'm wet makes me moan and shudder.

Then he has me fingerfuck myself for him. And I know I've lamented my
short, thin fingers before. But seriously, when I'm as far gone as he
had me last night, I think my fingers can be the best thing that's
ever touched my pussy. Because it's not that. It's not that I *have*
to be quiet, discreet even. I don't get turned on by that, it
actually takes away from the turn-on for me because I'm usually too
worried of being heard. But I was quiet enough last night that t
didn't even know what had happened and was very impressed when I told
him where i'd just been, with a dreamy, zen-like expression on my
face.

But I came so hard, damn. It was so fucking hot. Hearing him
whispering dirty things in my ear. Telling me what to do to this body
for him. Him talking in his Dom voice in a way that's so pure, so
soul-tapping. It's so much more than just cumming for him, for his
pleasure. It's like the purest most amazing confirmation that I'm
his. He claims me and takes care of me. But also that dirty, I would
finger myself with people just a landing and bedroom door away and cum
so hard, so deep, so toe curling and ass clenching. Twice, actually.

So it's really no wonder that this morning when I heard Justin
Timberlake sing "I'm bringing sexy back" and the beat started
thumping, I reacted in true Pavolv doggie style and went to my foggy,
slutty sub place.

If You Don't Know What B Means, Let Us Explain

This is going to be short. For a very good reason. I'm in a mode
where I need to shush my inner voice. My internal chatter has gotten
so loud lately, having me think and rethink things almost obsessively.
Even as I type this, I keep hitting delete and thinking shhhhhhh

I know that everything will be all right. I just need to quiet my
inner neurotic insecure thoughts running through my head. And I have
found a very effective way to gag that inner voice, so to speak.
Luckily, my work completely takes over my brain and it takes all my
mental capacity to do it. And when I talk to Mr. G or am with k & t
and being mommy, it's always almost completely silent. But in my car,
when I'm alone, in the shower....I feel like thoughts just rush to my
head at a break-neck speed. So I play my music that takes over
whatever that part of my brain is and I just sing along. I'll end
this blog with the perfect playlist to tell your brain, "Shut the fuck
up!"


B-Girls - Young & Restless (where the title comes from)
Bawitdaba - Kid Rock
One Week - Bare Naked Ladies
The New Style - Beastie Boys
Lose Yourself - Eminem
In Da Club - 50 Cent

I Won't Give up if You Don't Give up

(title is reference to one of my favorite Train songs)

I am not going to go into great details, because I do try not to cross that line of sharing too much and airing one's dirty laundry here. But I also know that blogging and writing has its benefits of therapy and also a small sense of a support group feel when another person writes about exactly what I'm feeling and therefore I feel less alone and less freaked out by my own feelings or someone comments that they've been where I'm finding myself.

So the delicate part of this particular blog is this week's issues weren't mine. The best way I can put it is Mr. G felt overwhelmed, felt like he was pulled in too many directions already, with his own family commitments and work and busy life. He felt so stressed and like he was not giving me enough attention. The frustrating part was it wasn't anything I said or did to make him feel this way. He is an alpha male, he sees what he sees and hears what he hears sometimes and feels badly he's not fixing things that aren't broken.

Luckily for me (and this blog) he picked me, he picked us. I am so very relieved. Because, truly, before that fateful conversation where the floor dropped out from underneath me, I'd been so happy, so content, so feeling like I'm making it all work. That made his confessions of unhappiness even more astounding to me. I thought we were doing great. It's serious work, being a good spouse, parent, and working a demanding job. Add to that another person's life and stresses and well-being. I get it. He is a good Master. He feels responsible to me and to my mental health and day-to-day life.

But he needs to recharge his batteries and not feel guilty that I'm feeling neglected. And I haven't been. He's so (not soft, not romantic, or mushy) thoughtful. He calls when he just has five minutes to say hi. He drops me an email and tells me he's thinking of me during a busy day. All that stuff goes a long way in my world. I get it when the kids are finally asleep and the wife isn't needing your attention, it's fucking KEY to have that unwind time, that recharge your batteries time; whether it be hobbies or just surfing Youtube. I'm lucky in that I can grab a bit of that here and there all day because for the most part I work at home alone.

So now my issues are two-fold. How do I say I love you and miss you when we're not talking but not imply that I think he's selfish for not *making* time for me right then?

And the real biggie is: how do I not censor myself? Not hold back for fear of being too much work, too high maintenance? He's told me not to. That he wants me to share everything, per usual. (This is where Mr. G might want to skip ahead. He doesn't want to hear about me not needing him or knowing I will live if we end.) But I'm a survivalist. I know that the thread of life can get snapped in a millisecond and then you never get to talk to someone you love ever again. I've survived the deaths of two people that really shaped my life. Losing my dad the way I did makes me know I can live through anything.

So I have some serious defense mechanisms. I'm a rip the Band-aid off quickly kind of girl. If something is going to happen, please, let it happen right now so that I can just start dealing with it. But I'm also a (mostly) rational adult and was able to sit back, give him time, and let him figure it out. Luckily, it was less than a week. And even during that time, he made me know he still loves me and was thinking about me.

And I have my weird shit, just like everyone else. I get anxious on Sundays. I don't know why. I just do. My sister does, too, ironically. When I worked at a job I hated, I got anxiety attacks so badly Sunday night, I was taking xanax regularly. Most Sundays now I just feel a general sense of dread and can deal with it by keeping busy. I know this makes no sense and I'm sure Mr. G feels doubly bad because Sunday is a busy day for him usually, with family, running errands and just generally being out and about. So I'm sure my "I'm feeling so weird and off" type emails really make him feel fantastic.

I already regret typing this much personal stuff. I'm actually thinking I don't want to post this. I just don't know how to be right now. I'm scared. I don't want to just go forward, like nothing ever happened. I am thrilled beyond belief that He thinks that owning me is worth the work.

I understand that I'm still His girl. He's still my Master. All the rules still apply. Now I just need to figure out how do I go back to being that secure, knowing He loves me and cares about me even when our contact is less girl without being afraid the next time I get PMS He's going to think, fuck, this is exhausting. I need to leave before she sucks me dry? I want the break we took this week to mean something, a lesson learned so we don't have to go through that again. Because I'm a survivor and all that, but this past week has sucked majorly. I know it hasn't been a picnic for Him either, so I won't dwell on that. I'd just love it if we could somehow communicate better what's going on before it gets to the I need some time alone to think of what I want place.

And if He wants me, but less of me. I can do that, too. I don't need to spill my guts to Him like I do, like this blog is. I can start privately journaling more, as opposed to emailing my every thought like I do now. I want to be His favorite toy, His porn star, His good girl.

***This was posted with Mr. G's approval and my great relief that it is a lesson learned as opposed to the end of a chapter of my life.