I take a measure of pride in my ability to not be shamed. This morning the universe said fuck your pride.
While I’ve been away constant reader I’ve been doing stuff. Mostly good stuff. I’m on track to be in the new place by Thanksgiving and the kid home by Christmas. This is wonderful!
Im headed for a kinky weekend pre 43rd birthday. More wonderful!
More than likely I’m gonna have some sex in the next few days. Sex means orgasms. Sex is wonderful!
What is NOT wonderful is trying to have a mid morning nut before your pre work night nap and the cleaning woman walking in on you.
She only comes into this room once a month. I had no warning that today was gonna be that day.
I got back from my appointment and stripped. I turned on my music to masque the buzzzz of little blackie. I closed my eyes and started picturing me and ice cold (yep new code name out there folks) on a dance floor, unable to keep our hands off each other. I was approaching number 3 when there was a knock and in she walks.
The vibrator is still on my clit, my room smells like squirt and she smirks at me and says she has to mop. She then asks if I was sleeping.
Now most of the lower half of my body is covered because it helps diminish the buzzzz. The top half of my body is out, along with my left nipple. I didn’t get to take my bra off I was in a mood.
My breathing is erratic and little blackie is still going just up against my thigh for the moment.
She asks me again if I was sleeping.
I had no words. You know that NEVER happens.
When she left I felt an unfamiliar heat on my cheeks. Apparently I can still blush.
For what it’s worth I wasn’t mortified to inaction. I squeezed out two more.