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This is a week when John Brownstone and I aren’t exactly getting kinky or sexy. I barely call him “Daddy” because there’s always someone around. He only has the time to rub my butt (not even smack it!) at night when we go to bed. Forget about fucking, sucking, or letting any juices flow.
Why? We’re staying at my mom’s house for the week.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a good visit. Not a vacation (people keep telling me to “Enjoy your vacation!”). This isn’t us on holiday. I’m working. John Brownstone’s working. Hell, my mom is working. We mostly picked up our lives and drove it 11 hours west.
And sex definitely isn’t happening. My libido shrivels up and dies in my mom’s house. Nothing is wet. Nuh-thing.
You’d think I’d whine and complain about it. Not really. I know this is what happens when we visit – especially if we don’t stay in the private apartment they have on their property. And this time we didn’t.
What’s been nice – refreshing, actually – is that in order to connect, John Brownstone and I have to find other methods.
We’ve walked on the pier and the beach and taken pictures of the Gulf of Mexico. (Even though we live by the Gulf in Florida…)
We’ve gone for drives to get coffee (because of course we did) and to run errands.
We’ve worked side by side at the kitchen table, each doing our own thing, but in a companionable silence.
I’ve made breakfast for him most days. He’s cleaned up after me most days.
Yes, of course, these are things we do at home. But at home, it’s not the sole source of our time together. Even at our busiest, we find time to get away and tease each other.
This week, in order to feel connected, we’ve had to find other methods that aren’t kinky or sexy. It’s not how I would always want it to be, but it’s good to know we can. That we don’t need the sex. That the sex and kink, as integrated as they are into our lives, really are secondary.
John Brownstone has said multiple times that if the D/s went away, what we have without it would be fine with him. I’ll admit that a small part of me has always shriveled up in horror at the idea. I don’t like to think of us without some form of kinky fuckery – no matter how small or subtle. But it’s times like this week when I get proof that we’re good without it.
Maybe that’s the lesson. Yes, D/s and kink are important to us. God, fuck, hell yes, I could use a big ole spanking or being held down while he fucks me senseless. Yes! Yes! Yes!
But it feels good knowing that without it, we’re still the same couple – connected, ridiculously sweet and cute, and able to easily navigate our relationship. And fueled mostly on coffee.
At least temporarily.
I’m well aware that I might feel differently if I didn’t know I was going home in a day or two, that our kinky toy bag and the privacy of our home are waiting for us. I also know that some people don’t even get the small taste of D/s or kink that they’d like. Hell, I might not call him “Daddy” right now but we both know who’s in charge around here. (Our dog. Ha! Just checking to see if you’re paying attention.)
But, it’s good to know that we’re solid with or without the kink.
Welcome to Wicked Wednesday! This is what you get when my libido goes on holiday (even when the rest of me doesn’t). This week’s WW prompt is about vintage art, and I have no doubt that some of my fellow bloggers and writers will bring the heat. Click below to get something sexy and sensual – or just fucked up and kinky.