My best inspirations for blogging seem to come at two very inconvenient times--in the car on my way to work, or in bed right before passing out in a haze of submission. Neither one is conducive to my ability to retain and write about said inspirations lol.
Yesterday morning I felt like crap. Did not want to go to work in the least little bit. On my way out the door, Alpha grabbed me and pulled me in for one of those delicious hugs that make me want to remove my shoes, turn the car off, and settle back in for the day. "I want to shelter you and protect you and use you." Umm...."Now I really don't want to go!"
And I had lots of inspiration on my way to work. You know, those posts that practically write themselves and are perfect just the way they flow from mind to page...Can't remember any of them. Not one. Though, I work tomorrow, so recall should be great until I get back home lol.
Last night? Oh last night I was inspired as could be...At midnight dripping wet, used, incoherent, and tired to the bone. This morning? Ha, All I got is "I know I had something good dammit!"
I get one question after sex, hard use, abuse, love, whatever-the-fuck-you-wanna-call-it.
Yea, the man doles them out like chocolate to a PMS'ing fiend--keep me from going completely demonic, but always waiting for more.
And I was panicking again, about my illusions of being able to control my desires, my body's reactions, anything at all...He said "remember the realization you had about your parents when you were a kid, that the only thing that made you do what they said was you? It's kind of like that in reverse. You're not doing it just to please me any more." And then He went on to say something intelligent and confusing about control while I was busy drowning in my inability to be the least little bit coherent.
My body surrenders and my mind follows screaming insanely at it for the perceived betrayal. Then? My mind surrenders too.