Gymnastics

How thankful I am that I don't live in China. Internet censorship to such a degree is truly disgusting.

The Chinese govt ought to be really fucking ashamed.

Anyway, Husband and I had great sex last night. And I am thankful I have the freedom to write about it. 2 orgasms, almost 3. I turned up for dinner wearing my leather collar with the D ring attached, which I think turned up the heat, made my intentions known. You should have seen our waiter, he couldn't take his eyes off it, that part was hilarious.

We got home, watched a movie, took a hot tub, then dived on each other like we'd never had sex before, it was great... We stayed up way too late. And, I managed to keep the thought of my cute UPS guy out of my head, which made it even better, and just enjoyed Husband instead. I always feel bad, despite my own understanding that it's inevitable, really, isn't it? I don't like it if I have to resort to fantasy about other guys, to get there. But, it happens. Oh well. Not last night though.

Talking of Mike, he had a very large package this morning, and sadly it wasn't for me.. ;-) He walked straight past my door, and didn't even turn to wave. Huh. I had even put more lip gloss on. (Guys, do you even notice things like that??)
OK, yes, I admit I did feel a little disappointment, but was mostly laughing at myself for being such an idiot about it. I think that's the key to growth, stopping taking yourself too fucking seriously.

I wrote a letter to Master about him, and confessed my desires for a little promiscuity, and he wrote the sweetest note back, so nonjudgmental, just thanking me for my honesty and trusting him with this stuff. I don't want to get into that secretive bullshit that I got into with A. Confession is a useful tool, if used the right way, and made to the right person. It really takes all that secretive charge out, and you have somebody to be accountable to.

I am ready to do something different with that pattern of behaviour, ready to grow out of it, and just enjoy Mike's legs and ass and eyes when he comes in tomorrow, rather than add all the mental gymnastics to the equation. Hey, I never said I could be perfect, or a good girl, but I can at least be a lot less complicated and stupid about it.