I do like to have his eyes on me and only me. I like it when he kisses me like he means it. I like it when it is just him and I making dinner or playing a silly word game or lying on his (really quite unbelievably hard) stomach and watching TV. The TV thing is best when one of us is pretending to be a pterodactyl, at least I think it is.

I like it when my eyes are wide open, straining to make out shapes in the dark, I think he is almost asleep, I make a deliciously bratty comment and he reaches out for me through the dark, he pulls me into him, fast but gently and kisses me with such intent that I quite forget to be naughty and it is all I can do to wonder what he will do next.*

It may be more honest to point that that when I am bratty in the dark he pulls me to him, turns me over (I am never too clear on how that happens, I think if one is lying flat on a bed it should be impossible to turn a girl over), throws the covers aside and spanks me far, far too hard for a man that is almost asleep. My legs scoot across the sheets, trying to scissor me away. I know that makes no sense but I am not in a clear thinking place when he does that sort of thing. No matter how much I squeal , “I am sorry” he does not stop until I actually mean it.

Most unsporting.

After my bum is burning and hot and I try to find cool bits on the sheets for a balm, it is then when he kisses me. And after he kisses me or as he is kissing me if you wish to be terribly correct, he does things that make me not even be able to think about being bratty for simply ages.

Just like when he spanks me, I still may be asking him to stop, but this time because it is not me that is naughty. Somewhere along the way I forget what I mean by those words though, or any words. I sleep quite well after that.

So I do love it when it is just the two of us. But I also love spending time with the friends I have met through all of this … er… stuff.

I have some wonderful friends that are the most fun in the world. Every one of them is intelligent, wise and witty. I feel very lucky indeed to know them.

I have only met one friend in person and that person I did not meet through this recent group of friends but through another site, another time. I adore her though, she is one of those people who understands. She is one of those people that makes me wonder why the world is so big. I have no idea why I cannot nip over to her house for a cup of tea. Even when I visit American, America is so cursed big that catching up with more than one person at a time is a logistical nightmare.

There are several people that I want to meet face to face, that I want to have a giggle with. I want also, to have long, long chats. the kind that men never understand but rather are quite glad to be out of in a ho hum sort of a way.

If I ever win the lottery I am going to hire a plane, a huge house and throw the most wonderful party. (Not that sort of party. I am English and shy. my party will have canapes and witty repartee and no one will be at all stern. I may decide these things. It is in my head after all.)

But for the moment, we play and send each other silly emails some day and moving emails the next. We sometimes wait a month between communications but that is because we are all busy and we understand that about each other. We can pick up where we left off. That is what friendship is.

But there is something delightful about making silly jokes (not crude ones or mean ones, they must have a light touch) and giggling and encircling each other to escape trouble.

There are times (not like last night at all. Nope, not last night.) When I am standing with a horrid stern eye on my poor, innocent, disrobed bottom with my nose in a corner and what starts off with me being bouncy and silly and really quite fun, ends up with with me feeling quite sorry for myself and … sorry*. (I know, it surprised me too).

Anyway, at these times I would like a friend to be in trouble with. the thought quite cheers me. I would like someone else to be squirming, even if I could not see them it would make me smile to know it was not just me in trouble. We would make each other giggle, we would be each other’s foil, we would be able to say “But it was heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer.” and mean it. **

I would like another brat to glance at and egg on.

But then something occurs to me. Some girls (sorry, not brats) come with their own Top. And some Tops are lovely but rather good friends with Himself and the the thought of the two of them being all stern, even against the two of us, makes it seem less of a good idea.

So back to the drawing board.

Or the playground. A drawing board sounds too much like hard work and getting into trouble with my friends is too much fun to even be considered work.

Oh- unless myabe I could find a way to get her in trouble rather than me.

I wonder if Himself would fall for that.

*I know that was a long sentence. My editor is asleep and I wanted it to be a long sentence. He would call it a run on sentence. It had more than one idea in it. It was “bad writing.” Shocking, even my sentences need spanking.
** Gosh- another run on sentence. I am sorry. I blame my editor, lazy stay-a-bed. It is almost 4am for him. Why isn’t he up watching over me? Gets what he asks for if you ask me.

Would you like another?