There’s something about e

We are incompatible in many ways. Really, many. And we have already hit some rough spots, before even meeting.

And yet… and yet… there is something special there.

Something…

For the first time (yes, the first!), I did a tiny little bit of play with him. Miniscule, hardly anything at all.

We have a short phone call at 11.30pm, so I can tell him a bedtime story.

We talk about trivialities: my stubbed toe, his dog hair problem, wine…

I listen to him brush his teeth, a domestic intimacy.

He calls me ‘sweetie’, it is… well, sweet.

We talk and joke about nothing much at all.

I ask him later if he is already in bed. He says he is, of course. We talk some more.

Time for the bedtime story.

I tell him to get out of bed, to kneel by it, and to ask me if he can get into it.

It surprises him. It is the first time I have asked anything like this of him.

I hear him shift, a deep breath, I can almost taste it. He makes a sound as if he is reeling, it is quite lovely.

He gets out of bed, and gently asks if he can please get into bed. I can hear that he is turned on by it.

I say yes, and thank him for it, amused and aroused by this small gesture.

He tells me through a smile that he is hard now. I have not made it a rule yet, but I like it when he tells me… it is hot to hear him say it out loud.

“Also… no touching your cock while I am reading to you…”

He groans at that. “Okay…”

“Pardon?”

“Okay Ma’am, yes Ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought you said…”

He checks again. “No touching at all?”

“None, unless I say you can, which is unlikely…”

“Yes Ma’am, that seems unlikely.”

I tell him to shush then.

I read The Afternoon – Part III of our day to him. He makes small inarticulate sounds in my ear as I read to him in a low soft voice.

I allow him to touch himself for two sentences worth, twice. He thanks me and his tone gets a different tenor, lower, concentrated. His voice in my ear makes my stomach flip over. I tell him to stop when the two sentences are done.

When I finish the reading, I pause for a moment, then say goodnight, and hang up.

When I get off the phone, I slip a finger down to my pussy. I am so fucking wet, my finger slips easily between my lips, completely slick. Just from that. I come about 5 minutes after the phone call ends.

That’s the zing-zing right there. I don’t know how or why it sparks, but sometimes it just does, and when it does, small things like that hit me just right. He gives back to me exactly what I am giving out and it makes me want more. There’s something about him that just works for me.

Zing zing, baby.

Loves: 1
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17 comments

  1. “He checks again. ‘No touching at all?'”

    I love the sweetness and the sexiness and the slightest uncertainty of his asking a question he already knew the answer to. :)

  2. “We are incompatible in many ways. Really, many. And we have already hit some rough spots”

    Yeah, I get a lot of that but I think it’s just part of the human condition though because humans are complex, prickly, and generally hard to deal with. That’s why I keep so few of them around.

    It’s that “something special” part. That’s what keeps us coming back for more and working on all those incompatibilities until everything mostly fits and it’s the “zing zing” that enables us to get past the rest.

    “There’s something about him that just works for me.”

    This makes me happy and I look forward to reading a lot more about it.

    1. Hello snapshot. You say: “…Yeah, I get a lot of that but I think it’s just part of the human condition though because humans are complex, prickly, and generally hard to deal with. That’s why I keep so few of them around….”

      There’s something a bit sad in that. I meet humans who do try to do you harm. You are right. Do not have them around. Then there is that someone special. In between there are humans who are colourful and funny. A few are hard to deal with. I put up with a lot. I think they try not to be hard to deal with. Ok I like those humans around in small doses. I try not to be hard to deal with. I wonder do they put up with a lot from me. I love humans. Well I’m near 98 per cent human myself.

      Satan

    2. “It’s that “something special” part. That’s what keeps us coming back for more and working on all those incompatibilities until everything mostly fits…”

      I agree. I don’t think our incompatibilities are show stoppers, and if we have the desire and motivation because of the ‘something special’, we will figure them out.

      Ferns

  3. I’ve noticed that many people seem incompatible when actually they fit together really well. It’s all about chemistry. Theoretically, I don’t like guys with beards. Theoretically, I don’t like older guys. Theoretically, I don’t like guys who like kids. Theoretically, I don’t like long-distance-relationships. Theory and practice are incredibly far apart when it comes to relationships. All you can do is trust your gut and all the differences and incompatibilities simply fade into nothing. It doesn’t matter as long as you’re together. Because it feels just right. Cherish that feeling! :)

    1. *laugh* Me too!

      And no no, I have NO patience. Truly. I pretend to have patience while the 3yo voice in my head is screaming “Now now NOWWWW… COME OOOONNNNNN!!!!” and kicking things and throwing tantrums.

      Ferns

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