Thursdays are no masturbation days. Sir has designed the week with rising and falling levels of frustration and completion.
It is on Thursday nights that I find myself idly sleep masturbating, kind of. And my dreams are all weird and erotic.
No masturbation, but kind of a mind fuck.
Because Sir is generally home Thursday evenings, maintenance is usually a bit more. Not always elaborate, but more thoughtful. Tonight’s was a simple paddling with a ping pong paddle as he sat on the sofa and I straddled his legs. As I rested my forehead on my hands, which were wrapped around his ankles, I took each blow as I tried to breathe through it. It has been warm, so my flesh was slick with sweat. That added to the sensations.
I am looking forward to tomorrow; nothing until after five p.m. and only left handed.