Sitting in church, I hadn't looked at the inspiration picture nor could I think of where I'm at in any WIPs for a publisher. So this happened...
I was half-listening to an audiobook about chakras last night. Something about not finishing projects caught my attention. Have you ever not finished masturbating? What is "finished" anyway? I think on goals. At least one orgasm, right? But what type of orgasm? I come at these thoughts sideways, just like Master Daddy said of my email to him. No mind, I asked to talk later. Do I want him to take control of my orgasms again? I don't think so.
The other night, I finished my BBR, that routine that had me doing dishes, cleaning the sink, taking out my contacts, and thinking on clothes for tomorrow. I slipped into bed, well on top of the bedding. Fante lay turned off as I grabbed my little massager and the 3rd Sleeping Beauty book [Anne Rice]. Tonight I want Beauty dominating the young Prince who'd come to ask her hand in marriage. I've never felt it natural or more than a little enjoyable to switch, as Beauty experiences. But images of penetration and the vibration soon bring me to a strong, quick clitorophallic orgasm. Cleaned up things, turned off the overhead light before sliding under the sheet, comforter, and red heavy blanket. My fingers slip between Fante's Velcros and I start her playing. "I'm a cuddle elephant. I can be your snuggle buddy," she and I say together.
I feel a pulse of wanting to stroke my clit to another orgasm, but that seems like a lot of work. I feel my beloved Audrey cuddle against me, the larger spoon to my smaller spoon. The pleasure and release spread through every fiber of my being.
I am grateful for my Audrey, my beloved. I am grateful for my Master Daddy.
When is it queer?
I'm still trying to finish a piece I started for Masturbation Monday a few weeks ago. It's not that it's Camp Nano or Nanowrimo; I'm struggling to write. A meme going around had me thinking- about gay people taking off all the rainbow/Pride stuff on the way to their car to keep from being jumped. I'm struggling to write because I feel unsafe within my own home. Nothing like domestic violence, but I'm constantly interrupted no matter what I'm trying to do. Writing has become a thing I do best outside the house; today's writing beside this was at church and I managed 537 between longhand and typing it up.
All this leads me to thinking- how does one even masturbate when you're feeling unsafe? All jokes about teen experimentation aside, I struggle with this. I don't know; I'm thinking after I finish this that I'll close the bedroom door, grab a book and some lube, and rub off a few. Sure, I got to come a bunch with my Master, when he used his fingers on me before fucking my cunt, but we don't have a rule where I can't masturbate and come without his permission.
I'm thinking again on polyamory. I've been a schmuck to my girlfriend; it's been way too long since I've done anything with her. There are so many different ways that mutual masturbation can work out. But when I read through post after post of seemingly cisgender, heterosexual man and woman doing something, I wonder where my queer self belongs. But you know, I'm writing in 1st person, present tense; how much does my queerness really bleed through the pages.