“Good girl,” he says, just one line in an email, but that’s enough. I feel that little pull, between my belly and my cunt, that twinge, that barest-hint-of-a-throb as I read it.
I’m that easy.
We’d had a difficult, but productive, discussion early this morning before work, culminating in a couple of emails later that I could only read in a hurry in between work tasks. He made some suggestions…gave some “instructions”…that, even though one wasn’t one I relished, the knowledge that he knew I didn’t especially want to do it, yet still planned for me to do so, had had the (expected, and, if you know me at all, inevitable) affect: a squishy Jade. I told him I still wasn’t too keen on the idea (because he expects me to be honest – even though it will probably not change the outcome) but that I would, of course, comply if he wished me to do so.
The above was his response.
I’m not sure where we are lately, in regards to kink. As W noted in our discussion this moring, it’s been a rough year. Lots and lots of tension in my professional life, lots of unknowns, lots of fear and anxiety. And then, once that settled down, there was the whole house thing. And while that was a positive development, as I have noted before, good stress is still stress. And in addition to the good stuff, there are a whole lot of adjustments , and many unknowns, in this situation, which causes its own stress.
Such as living together, as a triad. I am now not just “the girlfriend,” the lover, of two men, spending time between the two. I am now not just “spending time” at one or the other of my lovers’ homes. I am the live-in, life partner of two men. I am the partial owner of a house with those two men. I have a home of my own, and a whole slew of responsibilities that I didn’t have before, and now we have a life to lead as a threesome, and need to figure out how to do that. Every day I feel something new, I experience this situation anew, I see it all with a new intuition, with new eyes. It’s all marvelous and exciting and breathtaking, so much so that I can hardly contain myself from shouting it to anyone and everyone, from hugging myself over and over, from telling them over and over how grateful I am to them, how much I love them and love our life. I feel such a sense of utter and complete surprise that this is my life now.
How did this happen? How did I get so lucky. It’s just too much to express in mere words.
But the excitement is tinged with anxiety. With fear, too. Not unlike a roller coaster ride. I LOVE roller coasters. But I am also so very glad when my feet are on the ground afterwards. And like that roller coaster, I’m loving the exhilaration now, even while I’m fearful of the edge; loving the excitement and newness, even though I’m ready to feel my feet firmly on the ground again.
Give me a little stability, a little of the mundane. I’m ready to settle in, settle down.
Of course that won’t happen until we are all in the house together full time. Until the furniture is moved in, the painting is (mostly) done, and life becomes routine once more. But then as soon as I think that, I wonder, “What if it all does become routine?” Right now, with my recent illnesses, with a physical issue that W has been dealing with, with Ad’s normal low libido and with all of the house stuff that occupies our every waking moment, we are having very little sex, and even less kink. We’re too tired and achy and physically drained. We’re happy, sure…but sex and kink isn’t one of the things that is making us so. I can’t remember the last time I had a good beating. I can’t remember the last time I had anything resembling D/s. Oh yes, a little slap and tickle here and there; a little dirty storytelling during sex; a good Baldy-assisted orgasm (or three). But deep, meaningful, connective D/s?
Nope. Hasn’t happened in…well…forever, kinda.
I need kink in my life. I need D/s. I need the connection between W and I that comes with our kink. I could live without kink with Ad. I enjoy the play we do (a lot!) but only when it is connected to W: kink with Ad alone just doesn’t do it for me. It’s good physically, but the D/s connection I find with W isn’t there with Ad. And that leaves me…physically satisfied but unfulfilled. It’s like…cotton candy. Yummy and sweet, but no substance. (This has nothing to do with our non-kink connection, which is alive and strong. This is about what kink is like between us.) I like my cotton candy, I want it and I love it, but I can’t survive on it.
So…W and I talked this morning. A piss-poor time for me to bring up a subject with that much weight, but I couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore.
“I want to be your live-in girlfriend.”
“I want to be your construction girl.”
“I want to learn from you and share a life with you, and discover all the things that husbands and wives discover about each other.”
“But I also want to be your Jade.”
I want to be his “good girl.”