M and I were cleaning the office this morning when I mentioned my breasts hurt. "Want to see?" Of course she said yes.
We went into the back, it was just us anyway, and I took off my shirt. As I was taking off my bra, I told her how really we had intended to play light but about five minutes in I was in the zone, and he was in the zone and that we were in the zone.
She looked at my chest, criss-cross patterns of bruises, whip marks, and cuts scabbed over and smiled.
"Well, at least he's back on his game. He was really slacking there for awhile," she teased.
I arrived home last night shortly before 11 pm. I was exhausted, I still am exhausted. The weekend was well worth the exhaustion. I'll eventually tire of being exhausted and then I'll write a post (or two or three) about Frolicon.
To be continued
boymeat , lolitasir , femmetron1 and I had just finished dinner on Saturday night. I had lit up my cigarette as we walked out of the restaurant, and then handed one to Phil. Moments later I was fishing in my purse for my keys, I couldn't seem to snag them. I finally grasped a tampon. Tampons are not keys. But they are ecstatic dancers.
So I helped the tampon dance on Phil's shoulder before returning it to my purse. He looked at me and the tampon like we were both a little ... off.
But because I pleased the tampon, it helped me find my keys. They were hiding between my wallet and my ipod.