Balancing act…

We had the most beautiful evening.  It started early.  We went to the living room to cuddle and catch up.  He told me to take off my clothes and lay next to him.  It was amazing.  I laid next to him naked in our cuddle position.  He started asking me questions about what I’ve been doing with my time.  We started this very casual conversation and before I knew it I was telling him everything.  I have been writing, I’m talking to someone but not thinking it will go anywhere, I miss you, I am trying to keep busy but it has been hard… the list went on.  Months of things I have wanted to say came spilling out and it was amazing.  He listened, he asked questions, he responded, sometimes with solutions and sometimes with just, “I know baby.”  I am not sure if I wanted him to respond any certain way as much as I needed him to hear what I was saying and feeling.  It is a balancing act with my emotions.

I love that when we have those moments I don’t feel like I have to yell and scream.  Sometimes I want to but I know he hears me better when I’m calm and honest about my emotions and how I am feeling.  The minute it looks like crazy town he shuts down.  I did tell him sometimes I thought if I were crazier maybe he would pay more attention.  He laughed and let me know that was not a good idea.

There was something about the conversation that made me feel so much better.  I was honest about everything and it felt so good.  Not that I am not honest with him.  I never lie to him.  But I don’t always tell him how I am feeling because I don’t want to stress him out.  I don’t want to make things worse for him.  I have to admit tho, sometimes I want to scream and jump up and down.  It’s been months since we have talked like this.  He just seemed so open to it.  There were no distractions.  No phones, no distracting side conversations.  The TV was on but it was on low volume and he wasn’t really watching.  He was totally focused on me and that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

I found the courage to talk to him about how I address him.  I have always called him Sir.  Lately, (for a while) it has felt very formal to me.  His girlfriend calls him Daddy.  When we started spending time together I wasn’t sure about that.  I am a lot older than him.  17 years to be exact.  Calling him Daddy seemed strange to me.  So at the time, we decided and agreed I would call him Sir.  I can not pinpoint when I started feeling it was too formal but it has been awhile.  Maybe it is because of the research I’ve been doing on labels and titles.  I don’t think so though.  I just wanted something that was more relational and less formal.  A while ago I brought it up in passing and I said I wasn’t sure I wanted to call him Daddy because his girlfriend uses that term for him.  We talked about other names for Daddy but nothing felt right and we dropped it.

So laying in his arms as I explained how I was feeling about it,  he squeezed me tightly and smiled and said, “now you are getting it”, and he asked me if I wanted to try to call him Daddy.  I said yes.

In some ways, this feels like a step forward although I am not sure why.  But it felt good.  It might take a while to get used to it and Sir may come out every now and then, but I won’t worry about that.  I’m just really glad we had a conversation about it.

We also talked about a contract.  While he didn’t say much, I said that a contract may help me with what his expectations are for me and what mine should be him.  Even just a simple one-page statement on a task I would do, or my schedule to try to keep me busy when he isn’t around.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted the contract to say and I just floated the idea.  It just felt good to be so open after months of keeping everything inside.

We cuddled for a while and talked and then went to get dinner.  We came back and ate and watch TV.  It got late and we both had to work so I had to leave.  As wonderful as the night was I was disappointed that we didn’t mess around.  I loved everything about the evening.  I am, however, always disappointed when he doesn’t fuck me.  We talked about that before we went to dinner as well.  I know his needs are met when I am not around.  I am not the only one he spends time with.  He is the only one I spend time with and the only one I am fucking.  With the limited time we have, I feel any opportunity we have should be taken advantage of.  I would have stayed longer but he was obviously tired.

I tried to keep my disappointment to myself.  I don’t think I did a very good job tho.  He will never understand how it feels to want someone so badly.  To only want one person to be with and not be able to have that person when you want and need them the most.  He tries to understand but he can’t.  I basically live like a nun until I am with him.  Missing the opportunity to be fucked by him is devastating.  I never know when the next time will be.

He invited me to hang with him and his girlfriend the next night.  Anytime with him is a plus and I enjoy being with them.  But he forgot he mentioned it and I haven’t heard from him this weekend.

I don’t think he will ever understand how it all feels.  I feel like a bitch complaining we didn’t mess around, especially after having such a wonderful night with time together.  I know it sounds selfish but the longing for him is unbearable at times.

It is just a very difficult balancing act.   One I am not very good at managing at all.

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