June 22nd, 2005

Hearth

Odin's Day

Medical
Just exhaustion + nausea today. Finished out the Naproxen last night, so we'll see how the headache does. docorion may indeed have fucked it right out of me. If he didn't, it was not for lack of trying.

Glee!
He's here, he's here. :) And ow, my girly bits - must remember to be less enthusuatic after long separations. Or, well, to not have long separations.

Sexfilter entry? Probably. :) Ohhhh, that was marvelous.

But more than that. Just lying entangled talking for hours. Unfortunately missing the Forensics Lady's birthday drinks (we popped in at 9:40 - y'all were already gone. :( ) We did remember to eat. (Italian. Yes, he's part Italian. Yes, more than just that.)

Gods, I missed him. Missed him so much.

He is now downstairs reading. I don't mind working quite as much when I can look over the railing and see him there.

Um, that is it for now, I think. Besotted 'song.
Hearth

FYI

Sometimes lately I have been keeping up with my friendspage.

Sometimes I have not.

Warning: This week? I absolutely will not be able to keep up with my friends page at all! Because, y'know, I will have company and all.

If you want me to see something, send me the link, please and thank you. *hug*
Writing - XanaDuMalion

(no subject)

What = sex, to you?

Where is your boundary?

I've been sitting here trying to articulate what brought me to the question without bringing Other People's Stuff into it and without going into a 5,000-word essay (which I'll later write anyway, for the person whose Stuff it is anyway).

But it's something I'm curious about in general, as I know that my boundaries tend to be a bit fuzzy and amorphous in that regard.
Quiet - PhotoGnome

So much.

I am not in control when I'm having sex with him. I'm not just talking about BDSM. I'm not in control of what I say, what I do; I surprise myself sometimes with what happens. I surprise him.

Often, my vocabulary will limit itself to one word or to one phrase. One word, at this particular point last night: "Yours". Streaming over and over, with him inside me: "Yours, yours, yours..." holding him as he moved, "yours, yours, yours..."

And I burst into tears.

Which I have never EVER done during sex. But everything was stripped away, everything but love and need and, apparently, the pain of too long a separation. "Yours," I cried, and, brokenly, "I MISSED you!"

He held me, reassured me that it was okay, that everything was okay, that he loved me, that he wouldn't be gone that long again. Gods, it's never hurt like that before. Adam and I never had that long a separation, once we knew we loved each other. And no one else felt quite like Tom feels. Too long. My heart hurt. And the dam burst, and I bawled, and he held me, and he told me it was okay.

"Yours," and "I missed you," over and over.

Two things later, when I'd gotten ahold of myself:

"I can never lie to you," I said. "My body won't let me." 'Struth - things come out that I wasn't expecting, like the "pretty girls" thing I was expounding on last week or so. Like this. I have no walls with him. And, well, especially not during sex, when I'm as open as humanly possible in every way...

And this one caused me to laugh. "I have seen girls," I said, "who, when they cry, have just the silent lipquiver and the tears sliding down their cheeks. Me... not so much."

Him: "You have the red-in-the-face bawling."

Me: "Yeah. I do not cry pretty!"

It's okay, he says.

Also? He can call me baby and it sounds sweet and gentle, not cheesy.

I missed him so much.