Desperate

So, I have a list of topics to refer to for my Wednesdayh and Saturday writing assignments. However, something told me that Syr would most want to hear about this topic instead this week.

~*~*~*~

It was the day after one of the most phenomal nights that Syr and I had shared in some time.

I had spent the day reminiscing, reliving, replaying the events that had transpired the previous night. By the time I got home from work, I had worked myself up into quite a state and was so little I could barely stand up straight. When Syr got home, She smiled that smile at me that told me She enjoyed finding me in that state.

It was at roughly that moment when She made it clear to me that I was not going to experience an orgasm again until our anniversary weekend.

That was Thursday.

It hasn't even been a week yet, and I only have to make it until Saturday night... and yet it feels like it's been AGES and that there are ages yet to go.

The weekend was terribly difficult but somehow I squeaked through. And yet now, looking back, the weekend seems easy as pie by comparison to how I'm feeling right now.

I often wonder if my drive is even remotely normal. I feel as if I've always been hungry and needy like this and like I always will be. I know that's not necessarily a bad thing...

And yet if I wasn't so hungry for Her, so desperately yearning to feel Her covering me, taking me, driving into me, claiming me as Hers.... then maybe this would be easier.

Sometime this last weekend I was desperate enough that I begged Her to touch me, even knowing She was going to torture me. I needed Her even if it meant driving myself further over the brinks of desperate longing. My goading and begging got me exactly what I wanted and it was as delicious as it was unsatisfying.

I found myself whispering my pleas against Her mouth as She kissed me, Her fingers moving deftly over my swollen, throbbing clit, and then inside of me, teasing, stroking, lighting every nerve in my body on fire.

I whispered things I never dreamed I would. I begged Her to take me to the edge and stop, to leave me aching for Her. I wanted Her to be cruel, to get me right.... there... and then stop.. just because She could. I wanted to feel owned and I wanted the reminder that is She and She always who decides when and in what form my pleasure took.

While I am sure She enjoyed my begging, Syr stopped after it went on for a few minutes. She stopped even before getting me to that edge - because ultimately She is the one who decides how and when She starts or stops.

I think I found that more frustrating than anything.

It seems that ever since She told me I was going to have to wait, I have been edgy, cranky and also ridiculously little.

It just snowballs every day.

But today I am in an emotional place where I am near tears constantly.

I need the release and comfort and pleasure and free-falling, sinking, overwhelming surrender that only my Syr can give me.

Four more nights to sleep through without the soft shudders of my body's aftershocks to coax me to sleep.

Four more full days to be productive at work or at home, to get done what needs to get done and to do so without completely falling apart for want of my Syr's touch.

I'm not sure I'm going to be able to make it... not without just falling at my Syr's feet, a quivering mass of hot tears and aching need.

Time has never moved so slowly before.