Today MrH said it would be a rest day.
“We have no deadlines,” he said, “so rest. I have things to do and you can rest.” I know I looked a bit crestfallen and he added, “I protect you- even from yourself.”
He’s not wrong of course. I am my own worst enemy at times. Doing too much and paying for it later. So I have pottered about. I have gone through my bedside drawer and my chest of drawer. Thrown away some rubbish and rearranged it in preparation for the final move about.
Later I might do the other one. I might not.
But for now, well for the next 2 hours in fact, I am in pamper mode. On Friday I called at the beauty supplies wholesalers that I am lucky enough to be a member of, to purchase the colour protecting Joico shampoo and conditioner. By going to the suppliers I saved £19 on the retail cost. I also got a foot mask.
You may have seen them, they are little booties that you put on and leave on for a while. After you have taken them off they continue to work and within 7 days all the yucky dried calloused skin on your feet flakes off. So here I am, sitting in my slippers with squelching feet if I stand up.
I’m also feeling a little down. Some regular followers have commented, asking if I am ok.
I am. I have some remnants of sub drop from our hotel stay. I am extremely disappointed that my back procedure wasn’t done. Chronic constant pain is wearing and sometimes I cope better than others. Unfortunately at this time of year I do struggle. I love autumn. I really do. A number of years ago my father passed away. It was sudden. Unexpected. He was 51 and he had a massive heart attack. The last time I spoke to him was in the hospital, on my birthday, after he had suffered what we thought was a mild heart attack. A week later he died. Every year, my birthday heralds the approach of the anniversary.
I drop and MrH holds me up. He keeps me above water. He reminds me how much I am loved and each year I have dropped less, and recovered faster. Last year was the quickest yet.
This year I feel as if I haven’t even dropped as far and that can only be due to MrH’s support.
So today I am resting and indulging in some pampering. After all taking time to recharge is important.
Of course it’s no where near as fun as sexual recharging….. the high I get from being used as Sirs toy (especially when he allows me to suck his cock as he uses his hands to demand orgasm after orgasm from me – after a short time I feel my mind and body fall away, and I stop making conscious decisions); or when he uses his impact toys, the squealer, the flogger, the cane or his hands (or any combination) and after a while the pain fades, my body relaxes and my mind floats away. It’s not the same as when MrH orders me to my knees, and fucks my mouth.
It’s not the same as when he tells me to pull my pants down so he can use my pussy. But then again, I am perhaps a greedy girl……