One more day I haven't been struck down by God..

Nothing starts the day off better than phone sex.

Well, okay.. regular sex, I suppose. Waking up with strong hands spreading sleep-relaxed legs apart; fingers teasing, testing, preparing the way for the body pressing mine into the mattress, the thick, hot cock sliding into warm, wet folds. Slow at first, then building to a nice, hard, headboard-shaking, teeth-rattling fuck..

::cough::  Getting a bit distracted, sorry.  So, granted, regular sex trumps phone sex.  However, right now I'm taking what I can get.

No bell needed..

Say what you will about the behaviorists' testing methods (stupid ethics committees, always interfering!), but god damn- Pavlov had it 100% right. It's all about the conditioning.


All about stimulus ... and response.


Cell rings ... and I'm annoyed. Worse still, it's the 'general' ringtone and not one of the assigned ones, but either way it's been a long, very odd day, I'm on edge for a variety of reasons, and I don't want to talk to anyone.


How quickly that changes.

A deep, smooth, accented voice that I recognize immediately ... and there's no pause between it hitting my ears and my panties becoming sopping wet, my skin flushing with arousal, my nipples hardening.


Does he have any idea what he does to me with something as simple as the sound of his voice?


Probably.

I didn't used to be this.. distractable..

I have an assignment I'm working on currently.. rest assured that I am putting a great deal of effort into it not only for the Master, but also for you, dear faithful readers. Hopefully it'll be complete by the end of the weekend.

In the meantime.. back to the standing orders.

Many, many, many years ago, when I first became involved with the D/s world, there was the most amazing club in the major city near where I lived. It's where I first met the Dom that would be responsible for the majority of my training, and where most of my group/public activities took place (not counting the stripping I did in college).

My standing orders..

Are to document on here every time I play with myself. Now, I had a minor disagreement with the Master regarding this; I am most insistent that while I've *touched* myself since starting this blog, I haven't actually made myself come. Therefore, no entries.


He doesn't believe me. :)


I can understand why he'd think otherwise, but it's true. I've been.. saving up, if you will. Looking forward to chatting with him and having my first release in *ages* be to him calling me his dirty, nasty fucking slut. But there's no way I'd have been able to avoid touching myself at all.. not when he sends such lovely emails to me. I've slid my hand between my legs in the shower, letting the hot water hit my clit, trying to ease the persistant throb. At night, climbing naked into a bed warmed by an electric blanket, imagining the weight of the bedclothes as his weight, pressing me down into the mattress. Working on my tasks.. I won't even tell you, faithful reader, what I did to myself while taking my new profile photo. But I promise.. no release.


Our chat didn't happen as scheduled (there are no words to describe exactly how.. vexed.. I was at this), delaying my plan further. However, I received the most wonderful surprise today.