My schedule has been so messed up with the advent of full-time Mommyhood. It hasn’t really happened yet, at least the school year hasn’t started, so I am not yet feeling the full brunt of the new responsibilities–and the new restrictions on what has been a very comfortable routine for me–but still, change is in the air, and has already happened, and I don’t like it!
I don’t want things to change, I don’t want to have to think about creating a new routine, and I especially don’t want the routine that I have grown to know and appreciate–that so very well suits my emotional and physical relationship needs–to change.
Obviously I just gotta get over it. W sees me struggling with the changes this is going to precipitate, and he advises calm, to wait and see, and that it won’t be as bad as I think. That in the end it’ll fall out in a way that will work and that will satisfy.
He is so very much better at rolling with things than I am.
I really do need to be able to plan things, and, honestly, I love my routines! What an odd thing to say for a woman that is also able to embrace serendipity and spontaneity, make a change and a decision to change course at the drop of a hat, and to adapt to those changes with ease. (And how odd, on the flip side, that W, who is so laid back and relaxed about things like schedules, is unable to react spontaneously, and mislikes the kind of rapid decision making that I-and the world-sometime demand of him.) In any case, if I am being honest, probably what I dislike the most is very selfish–it means I get less control over the time I get to spend with W. Whereas before I had my time split at about 4 days with Ad and 3 with W (and was sometimes was able to flip that), with two of those nights and one day being a midweek get-together, now I am faced with maybe getting to work at his house one day a week, without staying over, and one, or possibly two–if I am lucky–weekend nights with him.
So I am pissy and temperamental about it: “It’s not fair! I need my W time!”
Anyway. All that by way of just whining. I don’t know how it’s all going to work in the reality of things, and W keeps reassuring me that we will make it work and all will be well. I have to trust that this is true, I suppose, because what else can I do?
This past week I got to see him Saturday night. We had intended to go out to a munch, and actually meet up with someone I had dated before from OKCupid, with who I had reconnected when I reactivated my account there recently, but some health issues kept me home. Which, while it was a disappointment because I was looking forward to this possible new direction that my friendship with this other person might take, was actually really good for W and I. That’s the problem with only having one night together. We need time to reconnect on all the levels of our relationship: physical, BDSM, vanilla, emotional. That reconnection is often intensely focused and very selfish (if two people focusing that intently on each other can be termed “selfish,” but I am having a hard time coming up with a better description) in a way. And one night just doesn’t cut it. So given a choice of going out and socializing with others, if we know we only have X number of hours together, we will almost always choose to spend those hours focused on only each other.
Which is a lovely thing. It is that intensity of attention and focus, that acute concentration on each other, in part, that so appeals to me in BDSM.
I was walking with Ad the other day and remarked on it. Ad plays with me, but it’s not the same. It’s fun and games, and sexy, but…the intensity isn’t there. I used to think it was that he isn’t dark enough, that he doesn’t push me down the rabbit hole as deep as W does, and in part that is true. But I’ve come to realize that he doesn’t do it because he doesn’t have the desire to do it. I’m not talking about not wanting to, I think he enjoys seeing me in those spaces enough to attempt it, if only occasionally. But I just don’t think it would ever truly work for him. He doesn’t have the focus.
Focus needs desire and passion to manifest, and he is just not passionate about BDSM the way that W and I are. It’s a diversion to him, not a life’s calling. And that’s fine, because he does enough to have fun, and I have fun, and I have an outlet in W for the deep stuff. Interestingly enough, it was walking with Ad that made me make the connection. I love walking with Ad, and I told him so, explaining that those were some of my favorite times with him, because our focus is on each other. No distractions. I love that and need that. “Much like I need a good BDSM session with W,” I said, and then realized the similarities between the two, and why they were connected as “similar” in my mind.
I may have only had the one night and morning with W, but I got exactly that. Late Saturday night, I asked if we could scene. He was a bit dubious; my stomach ailment was still causing me some discomfort and he didn’t want to do anything to exacerbate it. But finally, he agreed, if only to a small scene. “Nothing hellacious,” he said.
So we went upstairs, lit the candles and put music on, and he did a sweet, romantic rope scene with me. Okay, it ended with him rolling me onto my back and pounding into me on the floor, but still. That is W’s brand of romance.
I say that jokingly, but the reality is that it truly was romantic. Feeling his hands on me, firm, yet gentle. Watching him concentrate in the glow of the candles; tasting the bourbon on his mouth and letting him state the wine on mine. Sweet, nibbling kisses and longer, deeper ones. Laughter, smiles, flirting…romance.
And as we got started, he said the most romantic thing to me. “This one’s just for us.”
That sounds weird. Every time we play, it’s for us, about us. But so often the camera is there too, and I want to get made up, and I dress for whatever scene we are doing, and of course there are always, always the heels. Not just for the camera, but because there’s an expectation of being dressed a certain way, because W prefers heels, but also because he uses the pics on Bondage Demons. It’s his kink, ya know?
This time, I wore no makeup. I didn’t do my hair. I was completely naked. And I didn’t wear heels.
Sitting on the floor with him sitting in front of me, our bare skin brushing against each other, and me in my bare feet was…incredibly intimate. It felt like making love in his bed, except we were on the hardwood floor of his bondage room, and he was tying me up. Eventually there was rough bondage sex…but for that moment…I couldn’t have wished for anything more perfectly romantic.
In case you were wondering–it was me that asked him to get the camera out. I couldn’t let the whole evening go by with nothing to show for it!