Hallows

I'll get towards writing about this morning later, but for the moment, just a brief post about Hallows.

Being a Witch (that's another blog!) I find myself furnished a number of preexisting excuses, if you will, for Sir and I to have sex. This often gets expressed something along the lines of "it's a pagan holiday! We should fuck!" Which is only all the more amusing when he brings it up, (Sir, not being a Witch.)

All of which tends to harken back to a wonderful Beltane spent one year with Sir and 'my' girl, this being many years back.

So, it's Hallows and Sir comes downstairs, somewhat annoyed that I wasn't upstairs seeing as to how he wanted me, right then and there. This is a good thing. Spontaneity makes me happy.

But I waver for a moment, and in an extraordinarily rare bit of 'giving him lip', I make it clear I'm busy. (This is deeply out of character for me, I don't do "brat" play.) This of course, cannot stand. (Yes, if my 'not now' were a real 'no' of course he'd respect that, but this is clearly me being 'playful' and we both know it.)

And so he has me stop whatever it was I was doing at the time, kneel on the big black leather couch, and he takes me, roughly.

And I'm happy.

This has everything to do with the dynamic between us. Any real 'not now' would have been clarified, and we would have gone on about our day, getting to sex at a later point.

But knowing one another as we do, we both know I'm 'asking for it' in my own rare way (usually I'd never DREAM of giving him shit!) and what comes next, no matter how much some might mistake it for vanilla what, with the lack of tools and all, is anything but, because we're both working with power, and his Dominance, and my risking, and that's where so much of the magick of the dance is for us. (That, and the smell and touch of leather as I'm being taken from behind never hurts. I am after all, far too much of a fetishist for it to be otherwise.)