Tengo Hambre.

So Friday was M’s birthday party… Saturday we went to another play party and that was lots of fun.

I was really ready for some pain, longing for it. For the push and the struggle.

He strung me up:

There was some pain. He worked out his new misery stick and, you know, it hurt and all.

But it didn’t even come close to pushing.

It’s difficult when other people are around. That’s not to say it isn’t enjoyable, or that we don’t like having people around. That’s not it.

It’s just different.

He’s holding back. Hell, I’m holding back. But mostly he is.

There’s a reluctance to let go. I don’t know if he’s just not able to do that in the presence of others or if he maybe has some worries of being judged as too harsh…. or what the reason is.

The last time that we really played the way we used to play… was longer ago than I can really remember.

Before we moved here.

We completely eliminated the opportunity to indulge in that when we moved here. It’s temporary- if you can consider a few years to be temporary.

Someday, the kids will move on and move out. Until then though? We do this. This.. half-assed play that barely scratches the surface of what we need.

Well, what I need anyway. I don’t know if he aches for it like I have been. I’m inclined to think he does because there seems to be an itch within him that needs scratching.

Kids are fucking exhausting. Mentally, physically, emotionally. Doesn’t matter how old they are, unless they are old enough to be on their own.

Bah. I hadn’t meant to turn this into a rant about kids.

I was more lamenting my hunger. Hunger that the weekends two opportunities for play only teased into a higher need. It was a morsel, and I’m starving over here.

There is no blame to assign. It is what it is.

In so many ways our lives have improved tenfold with this move. In one way, one big way, we went backwards.

Because it’s not just not having the pain or not having the privacy and opportunity to indulge in kink.

It’s who we are and the places we go when we have that as a regular part of us.

That’s what I miss.

That place.

Meh. I should go pop a Prozac and stfu.

~cunt

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