I don’t know (Part I)–Updated

I’ve been crying on and off since 4 a.m., and I can’t breathe. I just got home after my second night in a row of no sleep. I am going to have a cup of coffee, followed by a glass of wine.

My husband wants to know what is wrong. “I don’t know,” I tell him, because I don’t know.

Daddy asked me the same thing early this morning as I sniffled as discreetly as possible and turned my face towards the wall so no one would be able to make out the tears pouring down my face  in the fading darkness.

“Are you crying?” he whispered.

I shook my head no, knowing I wouldn’t be able to speak without sobbing.

“Why?” he asked.

I shook my head again. He spooned me and wiped my tears away while I steadfastly refused to turn towards him. He ran his hands up and down my body while I took deep breaths to avoid the tell-tale shaking that comes with silently crying.

Minutes later we were fucking.

 

Update:

I don’t even know if I will bother blogging parts II and III of this. I may in a few days when I’ve (hopefully) gained some more insight and given the issue some space, or I may not. Right now I just kinda feel like, what’s the point?


Evil Thoughts (or, why I should not be allowed to date anyone, ever)

Somewhere around the 10th message I received with photos of him fucking the 18 year old who is here for the weekend, I turned off my phone.

Then I did a shot of chocolate cake vodka and got out my crocheting needle and a giant ball of yarn. Because crocheting is the new smoking.

I am watching Gossip Girl and tearing up because I have a brand new bottle of wine chilling in the fridge but I can’t find our cork screw. And I’m out of shots. Though we may have whiskey…

I think the text messages are his way of including me. I think they are his way of titillating me for when I join them tomorrow afternoon and stay through Sunday morning. I think he invited me for the whole weekend but I couldn’t make it happen.

I think if he does not stop rubbing it in I will stab him in the eye with my crab fork the next time we go out for seafood.

I think I am not cut out for this.

I think I am desperate.

I think I am pissed that he tied HER up but he has yet to tie me up. I think I am pissed that she is staying over there tonight and will have had her first sleepover with him before I get to. And I think the fact that my first time spending the night with him, will include some stranger from a sex site who came into town specifically to fuck him, bugs the shit out of me.

I think I should be happy that he wants to sleep beside me and spoon and fuck me all night. I think it angers me that he is spooning and fucking HER all night, right now!

I think if my husband had not said No to me tonight when I asked him for sex, I would be less upset.

But

I know that, as much as it is about sex for Daddy, he is training her. She is not allowed to use his name, look him in the eye, wear clothes or speak unless spoken to. She is a submissive, period, and he is training her for the weekend, period.

That does not, however, negate the fact that I can’t do this. I don’t even have sex with my husband, so basically this is the only guy I’m sleeping with. I can’t have this. The ONLY way I can not get emotionally involved is if I have more than one fuck partner at once. So, yeah, that’s happening. Because it has to. Because I want to be with him, but I don’t want to feel like this.

Technically I am not allowed. I mean, I am allowed to “seize opportunities” with other men, but not so much with the searching them out.

I think going to a bar in a short skirt and siting by myself is an opportunity. I
I even promise I will not approach any of them first.

And as for women, I am allowed to do whatever I want. Which suits me just fine because hey, Yoga Girl (Daddy’s other lover) is poly and sounds like she’s just my type, and Daddy is poly too, so he should be all about sharing the love.

Of course, her husband will not allow her to have threesomes WITH Daddy, but she sure is allowed to play with other women all by herself.

I think we should be friends.

I’m not sure if my true intentions are coming through in any of this, because I’m a little fuzzy from the vodka and I refuse to use emoticons in my posts, but suffice it to say, I’m feeling evil.


Daddy’s Girls

Daddy’s girls are all out of sorts.

Yoga Girl, Daddy’s lover, is concerned that it has now gone from her two times a week and The Girlfriend once a month, plus assorted randoms, to three women all living in the same city, loving the same man.

The Girlfriend is concerned that we might try to usurp her place as Daddy’s primary relationship.

And I am (less now, but still) worried that he will not have time for me.

Poor Daddy. He has told Yoga Girl that at least now there will be no more random sex–he has his hands more than full with the three of us. He has assured The Girlfriend that Yoga Girl and I are both married with children and are not looking for a primary partner. And for me, he just keeps telling/showing me how much he cares for me.

“You know I don’t enjoy whipping you with the riding crop more than once or twice,” he said. “After that, it’s just punishment. You asked me to help you quit smoking. Trust me, as much as getting whipped hurts, it’s not as bad as cancer.”

And then later that night:

“You know I really do care about you, right?”

“I know, Daddy.”

“I want you to have a happy home life, and I want you to have a happy slut-life.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

 

I imagine Daddy is under a lot of stress. I told him tonight, after him giving me advice on how to help my husband break into Daddy’s industry, as well as promising to make some calls to industry friends in the morning on Hubby’s behalf, that I wanted to be friends with his other girls.

“I just think we should be friends,” I said. “As naive as this might be, they’re my sister wives. We should all get to know each other.”

Daddy agreed. The Girlfriend is hesitant but willing–she says she just needs to be eased into it. Yoga Girl wants to meet–whether we play together or not, she feels the way I do. I am trying not to get my hopes up too high. I have no idea what either of these other women are like. But we all love Daddy and Daddy loves us (though they are not his baby girls–we all have unique roles in his life), and I would love to at least try to see if we can be friends. Part of me–the young, hopeful part, buried deep down inside–feels like this could be the start of the poly family I’ve always wanted. Whether I become sexually involved with the other two or not, we should at least all be able to spend time together.

We’ll see.

 


That’s What I Like About You

Things I like about Daddy:

  • He is funny
  • He has a great vocabulary
  • He likes adventure
  • He runs marathons
  • He walks everywhere–work, the grocery store, the gym.
  • He has great stamina!
  • He can cook
  • He invited me to Mexico (Not going, new job, kids, etc–but its nice to be asked!)
  • My homework for this week is finding us a place that does couples massages
  • Did I mention he spoils me sooo rotten?
  • He is dreamy (but really)
  • He has great taste in music–as in, we just lay in bed singing the words to 90s songs into each others ears. When he found out I liked Dave Matthews he declared he would keep me.
  • We have same favourite movie. Never met anyone else who loves the Shawshank Redemption as much as I do.
  • And the same taste in books. I have my own personal library now
  • We are planning a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon (but really)
  • He mixes a mean rum and coke (with lime)
  • He thinks I’m adorable.

A Kid in a Toy Store

Daddy took me toy shopping today.

We met at his place, fucked for an hour, then set off for the sex shop.

He’d worked all weekend out of town, and then spent last night at an orgy where he nailed 6 women total. He drove home this morning at 5 AM and took a nap before our play date.

“If it wasn’t you, I’d have canceled,” he said. “I am bagged.”

I was flattered. I told him we didn’t have to play if he was too tired, but he said “Even with all the women I fucked last night, I was still missing you.”

Sweet talk? Most definitely. Still, it’s nice to hear.

I was shocked at how long he lasted considering his exhaustion. We cuddled for a few minutes afterwards, and then drove to the sex shop which was located in a nearby mall. We walked in holding hands, poly out and proud, and he bought me a cookie from a gourmet cookie shop.

When we got to the sex store, the hot shop girl came over and asked if we needed help picking anything out. She recommended her favourite anal plugs from personal experience, anal lube and relaxing anal spray that instantly makes your body loosen up as though you’ve had three glasses of wine.

We also picked out a ball gag and a vibrating dildo, and then Daddy paid for my new toys and said “$200 well spent!”

“Thank you Daddy,” I giggled.

When we got back to the car he told me to put in the small ass plug. “We need to get you warmed up so I don’t hurt you with my cock when I finally fuck your ass.”

I smiled, took a deep breath, and after cleaning it and applying some lube, slid it in without too much resistance.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Interesting,” I replied with a dirty smirk.

We decided to grab dinner on the way back to his place, and he fingered me in the car all the way to the drive-through and then home.

He turned on porn and poured me a drink while we ate, then made me clean my new vibrator and slid it inside me.The pressure was crazy combined with the anal plug.  I sat beside him, squirming and gasping while he finished his food.

“Ready for my cock?” he asked.

He turned off the vibe, left in the plug, and led me to his room. After 10 seconds in my mouth he was rock hard and fucking me. I squirted over and over again and got spanked when I screamed too loud. The ball gag would have come in handy, but we didn’t feel like wasting time cleaning it!

After another hour long fuck, we cuddled on the bed. We talked, the way you talk when you’ve just met someone and you envision things working out, whether they are actually likely to or not. We talked about concerts he wanted to take me to, restaurants we wanted to try, weekend trips to the mountains, me using his condo as a quiet place to rest after my tubal surgery.

I am not the only woman in his life, and I like that. My previous Sir dated me for 5 months then dumped me when he realized he would never be the main person in my life. Daddy is actually poly, for real. He has a long-distance girlfriend that he sees once a month (they lived in the same city until a year and a half ago and have maintained their relationship since he moved), and another married woman with whom he has a friends with benefits relationship. He has been with his girlfriend for four years, his lover for two, and has actually managed to sustain these relationships. His track record is much better than mine.

He told me today that now that I am his baby girl, he needs to “declare” me to the others–yay for everyone being on board!  I’m not sure if/when I’ll meet his fwb, but his girlfriend is coming in a few weeks and he wants us to all go out for dinner and drinks together and maybe to a sex club.

When it was time for me to go, he packed up my toys and sent them home with me. “Now you have something to play with when I’m not around.”

He texted me tonight to let me know he changed his profiles on Alt and AFF to indicate that he has a Baby Girl and is now only looking for people who might want to join us. Then he asked me to change my profile on AFF to indicate that condom use is non-negotiable. Cue huge sigh of relief.

We are going out again on Friday. We’ve tossed around the idea of a sex club, a strip club, or a date night with dinner, dancing and fucking.

All is well…for now.


Well That Escalated Quickly…

I fucked him last night on my way home from work. At first my pussy was so swollen from the day before that I was worried I wouldn’t enjoy it, but within a minute or two I was screaming into a pillow. He does this thing…he tells me dirty stories in my ear. Weaves fantasies. Gets me off with both his words and his touch. I could write a collection of erotica with nothing but the scenarios he comes up with.

We fucked again tonight. The words “Daddy” and “Baby Girl” came out of both our mouths over and over. I didn’t even know he was a Dom, let alone a Daddy. I didn’t mention being a submissive on my AFF profile. Maybe we just recognized each other–out of over 100 men, I chose him.

Who am I kidding? I chose him because he wanted to meet for drinks instead of coffee.

I have a dom again–how do I keep unintentionally walking into this kind of relationship? He didn’t want me to be his submissive either–as a general rule he does not date the women he doms. But here we are anyway.

Fucking. Dating. Daddy/Baby girl.

That escalated quickly.


Still hurt

I just canceled my date with L for tomorrow. She seems kinda pissed, but the thought of going through Dom(me) hell again literally makes me hyperventilate.

I am not ready.

I just can’t.

Every day I realize how much I still hurt on the inside.