Happy MILF Day 💕💐💕

Wow, it has been a huge span of time since I’ve written!! To be honest, I’ve been caught up in living, and have been super busy. I’ve also been preoccupied with my OnlyFans page! It’s a whoooooole thing!!

Not an easy endeavor, but it’s fun (mostly). I love showing off, Mr. Bobby loves showing me off, it’s just the pace and the time that goes into getting others to cum to sign up! I feel so responsible to give content that earns the fee, even though it’s a small fee to join. Mr. Bobby reminds me that it takes time to grow into things. I’m an impatient Aries, though; I love fire and passion and energy!!

Today’s world, so altered by the past year and a half, is stranger to engage. And maybe I’m just going through confidence struggles, that adds to it. Feeling strange—but it is Mother’s Day. The amount of shit piled onto this holiday day is crushing.

But calling today MILF Day…somehow that empowers me. No, I’m not the best example of a mother; but I can do MILF really well! That’s my superpower. I fucking enjoy the hell out of being what others call naughty…or inappropriate.

I may have to face who I am with a somber sigh, but facing who I am also gives me strength. I’ve already been deleted off Instagram lol. That actually is a badge of honor—at least to my acknowledgement of loving my sexuality and showing it to the world.

I’m really just finding solace in writing about OnlyFans here, but I suppose I’m also declaring it, too. If you’re interested in joining, please send me a message. Have a great MILF Day y’all 💕💐💕

Valentine’s Whip

My heart belongs to Daddy💜 Yes it does!! Daddy bought me a whip made out of flowers…leather flowers😈

And His card…mmmmm, He owns His lil bitch. It’s the best feeling in the world. This world can be cold and confusing these days. Holding Daddy, feeling His pain and pleasure, being His fucktoy…that’s all I need.

His COLLARED bitch!!! Merry Christmas Everyone!!!

Woke this morning very still. Slightly shifting in bed with two pitties wrapped around me—their soft snoring keeping rhythm to each other. Master’s sleeping so nicely, and even though it’s Christmas morning, I won’t wake Him. He needs His sleep and rest.

My hand touches my throat, which is now wrapped in His COLLAR!!!! “You have to go find it”, He teased last night. I was wearing a fuzzy lavender onesie that just looked cozy and baby girl and Christmas—Ralphie’s bunny suit, He called it.

“You’re getting warmer…warmer…warmer…colder…ah, warmer”, Master played. My gifts were hidden in plain sight inside Christmas gift boxes already placed under the tree for decorations when we put up our tree! There inside them was a long wrapped flexible package inside.

As I started unwrapping the first one, it hit me what it might be. Honestly though, I thought it might be a torture device—a flogger? No, it’s not big enough or heavy enough, I thought. “It’s a collar…and it’s purple”!!!

The other collar is sparkly, cause He knows how much I love that! Plus, it’s got an ouroboros as the ring!! He let me choose which one to try on, and I chose that one. Like a little kid, I couldn’t wait to try the purple one on, then!

He had me stop and consider what this meant before He placed it on me. That this was…forever. This was more than a wedding ring, but this was my wedding ring!!

I was now His.

Owned.

His bitch.

I told Him that I felt so many things. Excited and happy and thrilled. Quiet and nervous and a bit worried. Proud and sentimental and in love…and wet!!!!!

He put His hand down my unzipped Ralphie suit and cupped my tit, then pinched my nipple hard till I screeched. His hand slid down my back, and I wrapped my arms around His neck. I couldn’t stop kissing Him.

Curled up on His lap talking about rules and life and submission. And love. It’s a deeper love and trust than I’ve ever known. It’s funny how the trip to be with Him became minuscule compared to the start of this journey. As if nothing in that life held me any longer. This is a new life.

This is a new life.

A life as His submissive.

Feeling Love

It’s been so very long since I’ve written here. It’s always been a space to let out all the things running through my head and heart. It has been the journey to Him: my Master.

Lying in bed with Him tonight, He read an online questionnaire. Kind of a game of questions. All these questions about what you and your partner do together, about your intimacy. It occurred to me that the first few questions He read out loud…my mind filled in His partner as…her. His partner before me. The woman He left to be with me.

It was as if I didn’t see myself in His life. Like I wasn’t really there. Like I was actually still back in NY or Arizona…dreaming of being with Him. Like I had no right to Him or His love.

It kind of shocked me in the moment I thought/felt it. How crazy is that? I looked over at Him reading the questions from His phone, and I touched His arm. He was real. He was right there with me. And He was talking about…me…His partner.

We were actually talking about our life together. All these adorable, loving, silly things couples do.

Us. Him…and me.

Just a day ago, He gave me permission to share us online. Facebook, actually. He lay there in bed and did it with me. We posted us. An “it’s complicated” relationship status between me and the man I’ve traveled lifetimes to reach.

I can remember studying every photo, every post He had on Facebook—for years. It was connection to Him. I still look at Him and see those photos in my mind and see an expression He makes in front of me that reminds me of one I stared at over and over on line.

Maybe it’s taken me this long to finally breathe it all in. To feel the wholeness of actually being with Him. To hear Him talk about His partner, and to realize He’s talking about me. Right here next to Him.

I also realized how much we’ve been through. How maybe my almost insane vision of being with Him, had gotten me through anything and everything and to never give up.

The other night a lot came out from Him. He shared some very deep feelings about Himself. Just like everything between us, we are a mirror. A reflection to and for each other. Sometimes the same, and other times the opposite. My drive to be with Him and be His had become His push to keep me away. To drive me away. But I wouldn’t go. I couldn’t.

I thought it was because He didn’t want me or love me. It was a reflection of what I felt only opposite: He felt He didn’t deserve me. We both felt the pull to be together, both felt undeserving but both expressed it differently.

So there I was hearing Him talk about His partner, and I felt not worthy of being in that picture with Him; and from afar I had pictured my life with Him, and He didn’t feel worthy of being in that picture with me.

I think I actually remember Him telling me way back during those early conversations how deep and complicated the Dom/sub relationship is. How intense a reflection it can be. I see it and feel it on such a whole new level now. I feel love. I feel loved.

What’s Left

Colors of blues and greens wash across me, clawing at sand that runs through my fingers

Let the the water run through and leave what’s left, leave what’s left

Desire and passion still breathe and call for the claiming,

This page is turned by us both, this chapter—yet to be written

Nature can be cruel, but the heart finds a way…we have always found a way

So, my love, this surrender is all, filled with redemption that only you can give

On my knees, I beg for Your hands on me to take what’s left

Morning…Run!

Lying in bed in the big house, we call it, while He is downstairs in the office trading. A morning I’m not shouting out of bed with a massive list of B&Bs to clean or my grocery store gig at night. In fact, I feel downright indulgent and light as air.

It’s having these little breaks that make me appreciate the little things. The cool breeze of the fan above me, and the rest I got last night; the beauty of the house we’re in, despite the chaos we’ve had to absorb and hold on to each other through it all; the love we made last night—deviant and deep; my oldest daughter getting married tomorrow.

He’s both the devil and the angel in my life. His taking me through the hot wetness of what I experienced back in NY so that I can process the pain of family’s best efforts at guilting me for all my wildness in my past. As I rode His cock last night, He looked into my eyes and reminded me how much I needed it. How much it meant to me. How much He means to me.

The devil reminding me of the feelings of letting myself express every sexual deviance, and the angel showing me that it’s all part of me—that I’m loved for all of me, not just what I was made to believe was me.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt that. Maybe since I left. Guilt and shame is a harsh task master. Only in listening to that voice, I couldn’t hear His voice very well. I seem to remember a saying about only having one Master.

It’s never been intentional, but more like a process of letting go. Control, I’m sure He’d say. I guess we never stop learning. And being together, in all it’s amazing-ness, has also been an experience—for both of us. It’s been a time of constant change and uncertainty together with

Yeah, did I say a quiet morning? Got two more B&Bs. Gotta run!

Happy Autumn

I always loved this time of year in New York. The season has a cooler, crisper feeling here in Texas, as well. Today is the Autumnal Equinox and Mabon! I’m not a Wiccan or any other religion, but I’ve always been drawn to earth religions. Pagans have more fun!

The visceral connection for Pagans has always been to celebrate and honor the body and its many desires. The seasons and the way we had to respect the earth’s cycle flowed into our own. Sex and Her gift of its bounty is something that came late in life to me—but nonetheless carries an intense response in me now.

Fall feels refreshing and new this year. I am with Him now. The gratitude I feel had me on my knees in front of Him this morning. Feeling Him cum down my throat…here in the flesh…so important to take pause to recognize, reflect, and celebrate all of it.

We haven’t had an easy time of things. Moving and ups and downs and some anxieties in both of us. But, this is us. This has always been us. Two Aries that need the fire for purification, as much as for vitality. We need the contrast. The extremes.

One year ago this time, I sat in an apartment in Arizona. A thousand miles away from Him. I could only dream of His touch and scent and love. He is here now. We are together. Nothing on this planet means more to me than this.

I sometimes joke with Him that this is just the Matrix. That nothing is real. Perhaps it is or perhaps it is not. Does it matter? It is all I know. It is all we have. So what we feel and think and breathe and dream is our truth. That is our life.

So on this day of equilibrium, this moment between summer and winter, this place between where life has been and where it is going…a moment to look deeply at where we are now. Of what it took to get here. Of how deep our well of love.

Everything good and amazing has always cum from this well. It’s the place where both He and I meet and touch. It’s our physical sex and what that has always done to our minds and hearts. It’s honoring that wet, slippery, scented heat and fire that is us.

As I walk outside today, I thank Her for the bounty of our love. Of the truth and intensity it brought to each of us. The transformation and power it has to bring us the biggest dream of our lives. I love you, Mr. Bobby, and I’m so grateful for you. I’m grateful for this life and for wherever it leads with you. Always with you.

Corporal Punishment

I’m at the pool again! And as I’m writing those words, there’s both this guilty pleasure and self consciousness that feels the need to be doing something. Ah, fuck it. I work hard—playing hard now, with a huge drink made of water, a splash of lemonade, frozen blueberries AND Crown Royal!

Cum to think of it, He exhaled a hit of weed passed my lips when waking this morning. This day off has been brought to you by Wake and Bake. Not my norm for sure…and there’s the self consciousness throwing itself on its belly.

Before quietly cumming up to Him to give Him a morning kiss at His trading station (now all set up and full of screens and activity), I had read a few posts from other bloggers: Naughty Nora, Succulent Savage, were writing about punishment. It’s something I’m new to…physically, I should say.

Punishment, before we met, had always been mental/emotional. And, there were two kinds: good punishment (for being a naughty slut) and bad punishment (for being a careless, disrespectful slut). They had distinctly different flavors. These days, with the physical connection we now live, it’s a mixed bag.

There’s poking and teasing and reprimanding, both visceral and psychological; and then there’s corporal punishment. Yesterday, I balked the psychological poking, with a “why are you poking at me”, said in a lil tone. About fifteen minutes later, His hand was around my throat choking me while He threw my legs above my ears, fucking me and mimicked me, saying just those words back to me. His cum dripping down my thighs and His marks left on my tits was an all day reminder of my place. A position that felt firm, controlled…calming.

My response to His pain is always a bit shocked, a bit emotionally hurt, and a denial of consequences. And then…there’s wetness and craving and admitting that it’s exactly what I need. In fact! I always wind up wanting more!

I can hear Him saying, “shocking”. We’re funny beings, don’t you think? We fear, and fret, and deny, only to betray ourselves. Exhale.

This drink is definitely making this pool visit relaxing. Something that I must need. Fuck—I think we all need these days! WTF is happening to this world is honestly beyond me. All there is to do is live within this different circumference. And, I guess as long as I don’t mind…it don’t matter.

A flash of Arizona slips in. Arizona, being alone, feeling uncertain, craving His…everything; these surreal moments, and they are many, of touching Him, kissing Him, I appreciate every moment. Every moment of His presence is a gift. It’s a miracle.

Dizzying Orgasmic Life With Him

I’m lying by the pool at our apartment complex and writing this on my phone. I was just writing about the way life changed abruptly and brought us back “home”—we seem to have a couple. Then I started writing about this wild moment of buying a tv last night and meeting a couple, whom He immediately knew were doing the same on the way in, plus got to take the tv back to our apartment for us! One of those serendipitous moments that amazed me. Not only His abilities to pick up on things but how it all went so seamlessly well!

I’m a bit scattered still, though, cause forming sentences right now is not effortless. I’m feeling my mind jump all over, especially to last night when we got into bed. There’s this part of me that is truly searching with Him. I know He knows this; He feels it. We never have had much of a spoken “rules” kind of D/s. It’s a life. It flows and changes. I’m always learning and struggle is nothing new. In fact, it’s part of who we are together. Just the same as before we were together physically.

This feeling of wanting to completely let go of control, and then vacillating between fighting it and completely going limp, has always been there. It is also the tension that made me cum so intensely last night. And I mean intensely and over and over!!

I smoked a deep hit of weed with Him and felt myself getting sleepy. I’m not even sure what happened, but next I felt Him grabbing me and flipping me over, raising my hips in the air. Oh wait…He was tickling me first! Fuck!! it was this intense toying with me. Tickling that spot where your hip meets your leg. I couldn’t control myself. He was teasing me. I literally felt my legs shake when He even pointed at them.

I laughed uncontrollably and then He switched to touch. Not sure how, but I was calm suddenly…and then panting and wet when He touched me there. Then stoking my cunt. It was so fucking crazy! I could feel my body begging for His fingers to fuck me, and when He did, I moaned out loud.

Then my ass thrust in the air and Him behind me. My hand guiding His cock inside me and His deep voice saying that it was breeding bitch position. Holy FUCK!! I just came and came and came and fucking came!! I don’t remember it stopping until after He came deep inside me and His cum was dripping all over me.

When He told me to go get Him some of the Key Lime Pie we had just shopped together for (yes, shopping with Him is still a huge, surreal moment to me), I rushed to bring it to Him, feeling His tone was a command. I was smiling ear to ear and still buzzing and in a daze from cumming so hard!

I’m grateful and in love and very, very happy. His words, “Lol, you don’t need to understand you just needed to be ok with not knowing and it always being better”, stay with me. It’s life with Him. Dizzying, orgasmic life with Him!

Each day another piece of the puzzle, another pixel of the photo

But it’s real, You are real. There in front of me…

I started writing that the other day and stopped. My mind and body and emotions have been scattered, to put it lightly. I slammed my finger in my car door the other day; sprained my toe on a moving box at our apartment; my left elbow hurts like a mother fucker (tennis elbow anyone?); and a friend’s dog scratched the fuck out of my left leg by jumping up with sharp nails! This isn’t abuse to get turned on by…it’s life and me not working together so smoothly!

I sat on His lap last night and begged for real abuse. The chaotic nature of our life right now, along with still getting to know each other needed His kind of mind hack. His control and creativity.

He took me upstairs and chose a bikini top and denim cut off skirt for me to put on. I walked behind Him down the steps and could feel my bare pussy rubbing against itself. He was quiet while I cleaned the dishes from dinner.

He was sitting outside by the pool, and when I came outside, He handed me the corncob pipe of weed. I took a deep toke and leaned into His mouth and kissed Him and exhaled while He drew in my breath. I just love when we share our breath that way; so intimate.

“Go inside and bring me out olive oil”, He said. I was calm and pretty high from the three hits by now; I tried to imagine what He might be using that for. Being high had the added benefit of just total release—to life and Him.

“Now let’s put some oil in your hands so you can give me a nice slow hand job”, He said in this soothing voice. Oh my fucking God, feeling His cock get stiff and thick, sliding under my fingers and hand. I was moaning out loud and just dripping.

He guided me to get up, and slowly sit down on His cock from behind. I yelled out loud when I slid down onto Him. His hand grabbed my pony tail, and He told me to arch my back while I bounced up and down.

I came on His cock, waking the neighbors, and then felt His body getting closer with each move of my hip. He grabbed my hips and pushed me down deeper into Him. He asked me if I knew why His cock was so hard inside me. “Because you’re my hot. Little. Slut”. He made me repeat it while He twisted my nipples hard.

The sound of His deep grunt when He came inside me—fuck, I adore Him. He told me to clean up my cum off of His cock, and I felt His cock get hard again in my mouth. When He came again down my throat, I literally didn’t even care if I took another breath in. I’d rather pass out being used by Him.

The surreal nature of our life, it’s what I meant by those lines about the picture becoming clearer the other day. I still look at Him and figure I’m dreaming. That we are together. That I can touch Him. That He can be so incredibly kind and caring, too, is a part of His dominance that is so completely disarming. Not that I have anything to feel defensive about with Him, it’s just more intense than I ever imagined. The extremes have always been with us and part of us. The extremes of Him and life. Amazing.