24.7

Amy says we already covered this topic in some other post, but I don’t remember so…..double post!

Amy and I were talking about her sexual talents.  Well, I was talking about them.  I started by commenting that she was a freak in bed.

Oh my.

You’d think I’d slandered the Queen.  She insisted that she was “NOT A FREAK IN BED.”  I pointed out the matter of biting, etc., and the conversation switched around a little and she pouted as she maintained that some of her best sexual talents are never used.

“You just face fuck me,” she grumbled.   “I never get to give a nuanced blowjob.”

True enough.  I’m not one to sit back passively while she does stuff - I like to do stuff.  To her.

I get bored even thinking about the traditional blowjob.  What am I gonna do, lay back and think about what color to paint the roof?  I much prefer to have her choking and gagging while I drive myself deeper into her throat.

Still, there are indeed other pleasures in life beyond the obvious, and I’m thinking about giving this nuanced blowjob a try.  Amy’s always been pretty confident of her oral skills, and I might learn to like it her way, who knows?   But it’s unlikely to be number one on the menu.

“And another thing,” said Amy.  “I’m really good at seduction, I can really seduce a guy when I want to.  But I don’t get to with you.  You’re always fucking me.”

Now, there are things I’m willing to explore, like forced masturbation, or orgasm denial for her, but fucking her less often just so she can seduce me?

I draw the line there.

We are in New Orleans for a few days, our first time back for more than two years (the early trip is documented in our blog archives).  It’s different this time. We are here with another man.

Our teenage son.

Bwahahahahaha.   By the way, I didn’t mean to go all “O. Henry” on you in my last post.  I originally planned NOT to say that it was my sister we had dinner with.  But I realized that a) it’s just too cool not to mention, and b) the odds of her ever reading this are infinitely small.  I will talk more about the Daddy/little girl stuff in another post.

Back to New Orleans.  Last time we were here, we were a VERY new couple.  We bought a schoolgirl skirt and a corset and nipple clamps on Bourbon Street.  Happily we have used the first two items far more than the third.

This time we are an old married couple with a teenager.  Nonetheless, we are  figuring out ways to make it wonderful.  There are, of course, the vanilla things - beignet and chicory coffee at Cafe du Monde, the Algiers Ferry, Rock N Bowl, Acme Oyster House, Brigtsen’s, Bourbon Street (LORD, I am getting so much grief from both my boys about calling it juvenile).

There are also the not-so-vanilla things.  Last night Richard and I went out alone to hear some live music and dance a little.  At one point he was standing over my chair, rubbing my neck.  His hands started wandering enough that I began to get nervous.  Which he picked up on.  Which of course made him bolder.  Bad man.  I was trying not to be obvious, because it wasn’t that dark.  When I started to pull away he wrapped my hair around his fist and pulled my head back.  My neck was straining from the pressure and I looked up at him pleadingly.  He just smiled and kept hold of my hair while trailing his fingers over me.  Luckily everyone was dancing and watching the stage.  I hope so, anyway.

This morning he was petting me awake - my head hurt a bit from drinking (only two drinks all night!  no fair!) and I had trouble waking up - and he started playing with my breasts.  His hands became more and more insistent until I was writhing, needing to cum.  He took my hand and forced it onto my pussy and whispered “Masturbate.  Now.”  But after just a minute he said “I changed my mind.  You aren’t going to cum.   I’m going to.” And then he fucked me.  Oh God it felt so good and he came and I could tell it was really good for him and then he pulled out and said “maybe later” and got up to make coffee.

So I’ve been desperately wanting to cum all day, which he just loves.  Now he’s gone off to take street photos with our son and I am here alone, all squirmy.  I’m wondering how much trouble I would get into if I masturbated, and if it’s worth it.

We had dinner a couple of weeks ago with another Daddy/little girl couple.  Which was cool, because I’d never met another before.  In fact, I’ve spoken/written with other Daddies and little girls only briefly.  We were at a restaurant and it was really cute to watch them together.  They are still finding their way around a D/s relationship, so I think it was nice for them to see how another Daddy/little girl couple behaves in public.  (Answer: discreetly, but not vanilla.  Let me know if you need more detail. : ))

The Daddy got kind of crabby with his girl, and she responded in a very submissive and concerned way that I recognized right away.  Most of the vanilla women I know, including my previous self and this girl’s previous self, would snap back if her husband snapped at her in public.  I have often seen one unpleasant exchange like this turn into an evening of irritation and hurt feelings on both sides.  It’s amazing how much more quickly bad moods and feelings dissipate if you don’t feel a need to defend yourself.

After he’d snapped at her, and she’d been conciliatory, I could see him processing it.  I know that they both have some concerns about this kind of relationship – he is especially worried about hurting her if he needs to discipline her, and she is worried about letting go of control.  She also has one of the sharpest tongues of anyone I know, so I was impressed with her response, and I got the sense that it made him very happy.  Richard recently mentioned how proud and happy I made him a couple of times early in our relationship and how that made him feel more confident as my Dom/Daddy.  (For those of you who have been reading our blog for a while, one of those times was when I was told to put Megan’s giant buttplug in my mouth ewwwwwwwww.)

I think their kind of Daddy/little girl is pretty much just like our kind of Daddy/little girl.  A lot of Daddy/little girls are into age play, which we are not.  I’ve practiced my Richard “if it’s consensual it’s okay” attitude with that, because my initial response was to be…hmm, I’m not sure what it was.  I guess part of it, as the mother of a young girl, was wanting to be sure that Daddy/little girl not about pedophilia or incest.  My impression is that it is not; the D/lg’s that I have spoken to are very happy being part of an adult and unrelated couple.  Richard would say here (I think; I guess he’ll let us know if I’m wrong) that it wouldn’t even matter if they were, as long as it was still two consenting adults doing it.  But is it pedophilia and incest if it’s only pretend?  *ponders*

The other thing that I had a leetle trouble with at first is being invited to pajama parties or asked what “age” I am (as in: am I 6 years old, or 10 years old, or…?), or talking about crayon colors.  But again, that’s cool if that is what they are into.  It’s just not what I’m into.

So what is Daddy/little girl if it’s not age play?  I can only speak for us.  Obviously.  If you read our very early posts (from when we were at blogspot *spit curse*, but it’s also archived on this site), we were trying out Master/slave.  But we both felt a little uncomfortable with the terms.  It made me feel very disposable and replaceable (why do I keep hearing Richard in my ear today?  “Ooo disposable – hot!”).  It also felt very one-sided, and our relationship didn’t feel at all one-sided to me.  I had never felt so nurtured and cherished and valued.

Why do we need names for what we are to each other?  What about simply Husband and Wife?  Or say that we are in a 24/7 D/s lifestyle relationship, which is probably the most accurate description of what we are?

I dunno.  Richard has always called me “little girl” and “baby girl”, both of which I LOVE.  After a few months together he told me I was to call him “Daddy”.  At first it freaked me out, but now I can’t imagine calling him anything else.  Here’s the weirdest thing of all.  My little sister met and married a wonderful man at the same time that I met and married Richard, and we found out later that we both started calling our husbands “Daddy” at exactly the same time.  And that’s whom we were having dinner with.