The Rare Spare Moment
It feels like just days ago that I posted that I had bought my tickets to Europe and would be gone in just under a month. Now I'll be gone in a week. I've been so busy that time has flown by, and I feel utterly unprepared for the trip.
But that's okay. I'm a take-it-as-it-comes kind of girl.
The Chef and I have become affectionate, though we know it isn't going anywhere. With my newfound nomadic lifestyle and his strong desire to get married, have kids, and settle, soon, it just isn't possible. We can remain close, of course, but something tells met that my time next month back in town before disappearing for camp life again will probably (hopefully? if he gets what he wants?) be the last of our sexual trysts.
Wade and I had sex again recently, and once again, he threw another long-unused position into the mix. He lay on his back on the bed, and had me get on top of him, sort of reverse-cowgirl style, but I had my hands on the bed behind me and my legs out to either side of him, sort of as if I were crab-walking over him, hah.
He grabbed my waist from behind and pulled himself up and into me as I ground against him. It was exhilirating to be doing something other than our usual routine; it made me remember when we first started fucking five years ago and how wild we'd get, trying new things out.
I didn't come as often as I usually do with Wade, but enough. Eventually, he flipped me over onto the bed on my belly and entered me from behind to finish the job. Even after he came, he wasn't done, and he slipped on a new condom and went at me again, saying he "owed me a few" orgasms.
oof
God I love this man.
He's not sure if he'll be at summer camp this summer, though he's leaning toward yes. I've reached a point where I'm okay with either decision of his. I want him around, but I also know that having him at camp causes me to hold myself back in becoming involved with other people, because I know he doesn't like to know about my involvement with other people. (Funny side note; I had to keep my shirt on during that last sexcapade because The Chef has covered my tits with bruises once again, and I know Wade wouldn't want to see that.)
I guess the only other thing that's really on my mind is the fact that The Chef is openly looking for serious relationships, and talking to girls...and sharing what transpires with me because, well, I'm open to hearing about it. I have to admit, though, there is a twinge of sadness and jealousy there. I'm sure I'll get over it rather quickly once I'm out of town and traipsing about other countries, but for now, I kind of want his attention while I'm here, I guess.
Onward, to work once again. It rules my life for just four more days.
But that's okay. I'm a take-it-as-it-comes kind of girl.
The Chef and I have become affectionate, though we know it isn't going anywhere. With my newfound nomadic lifestyle and his strong desire to get married, have kids, and settle, soon, it just isn't possible. We can remain close, of course, but something tells met that my time next month back in town before disappearing for camp life again will probably (hopefully? if he gets what he wants?) be the last of our sexual trysts.
Wade and I had sex again recently, and once again, he threw another long-unused position into the mix. He lay on his back on the bed, and had me get on top of him, sort of reverse-cowgirl style, but I had my hands on the bed behind me and my legs out to either side of him, sort of as if I were crab-walking over him, hah.
He grabbed my waist from behind and pulled himself up and into me as I ground against him. It was exhilirating to be doing something other than our usual routine; it made me remember when we first started fucking five years ago and how wild we'd get, trying new things out.
I didn't come as often as I usually do with Wade, but enough. Eventually, he flipped me over onto the bed on my belly and entered me from behind to finish the job. Even after he came, he wasn't done, and he slipped on a new condom and went at me again, saying he "owed me a few" orgasms.
oof
God I love this man.
He's not sure if he'll be at summer camp this summer, though he's leaning toward yes. I've reached a point where I'm okay with either decision of his. I want him around, but I also know that having him at camp causes me to hold myself back in becoming involved with other people, because I know he doesn't like to know about my involvement with other people. (Funny side note; I had to keep my shirt on during that last sexcapade because The Chef has covered my tits with bruises once again, and I know Wade wouldn't want to see that.)
I guess the only other thing that's really on my mind is the fact that The Chef is openly looking for serious relationships, and talking to girls...and sharing what transpires with me because, well, I'm open to hearing about it. I have to admit, though, there is a twinge of sadness and jealousy there. I'm sure I'll get over it rather quickly once I'm out of town and traipsing about other countries, but for now, I kind of want his attention while I'm here, I guess.
Onward, to work once again. It rules my life for just four more days.