Lonely

--- frank sexual discussion ---


I am restless. Sir is away, and I am at loose ends ..... I hardly know what to do with myself. I wasn't always like this, you realize; but it's been several days, and we haven't had any communication, and I don't like it. At all.

I miss Him.

My personality needs more consistent contact, for me to be at peace. I need - and perhaps it's a flaw in my character - for my Sir to be involved and available, and to toss me a compliment or an affirmation. I need to know if I'm on track, if I'm meeting His expectations, because on my own, I start to doubt myself. And that always get me into trouble.

An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure, especially for me, because I'd much rather have an immediate correction for a tiny misstep than face a major correction for straying off track.

But right now, all I know is that I'm lonely, and missing Him, and there is no way I'll be able to soothe the itch in my psyche and the ache in my body, because I am not allowed to play or to cum without His permission, which I do not have.

I tried, though. I was aching, and needy, and wet, and I thought, Hey, He won't know ..... so I laid on my bed, and my fingers swirled over my clit, rubbing that nub and stoking the fire of my need. God, I ached. My other hand played with my nipple, stroking and teasing and pinching and pulling on it. And it felt good, it really did. My breath became short pants, and my fingers grew slick and slippery with my juices, and I tilted my head back and closed my eyes and arched my back, and waited for my climax to take me ......... but I couldn't do it. His face appeared behind my closed eyes, and I knew I was not supposed to; and my fingers slowed, then stopped, and my breathing returned to normal as I lay there. 

So. Here I am, several days later, still aching yet unfulfilled, but hoping that my obedience (I may have taken a few steps off the path, but I did correct myself before I crossed the line) will give me some satisfaction.

But oh, i miss Him. I want His fingers, His mouth, His cock, all of Him, to fill me and fuck me and use me and leave me some lovely bruises as marks of achievement and remembrance. I want to feel His fingers inside me, want to suck His cock, and I really, really want to dance on His tongue. I want to hear His voice, feel His restraints on my wrists, feel Him dripping hot wax on my skin. I want the physical experience, yes, the pushing of boundaries and flirting with pain (only flirting, mind; I don't really want to become intimately acquainted) and especially the sweetness of cumming, but I also crave the emotional connection and the renewed sense of self-satisfaction. I've been missing that as much, if not more, than the physical things. 

And that's the crux of my restless feeling - I miss the connection, and I feel adrift, and it messes with my head and makes me feel unsettled and just generally out-of-sorts. But thank God, He's going to be back soon, and all I have to do is hang on for just a little longer.