Communication, or lack thereof

As you may have read in Miss H's latest blog entry, we had a bit of an issue this past week. You can read the whole thing over there, but to recap, we basically had a miscommunication, I panicked that she wasn't happy with our kinky sex life and she  felt like I went into a cocoon and became very distant because of it. It was a dumb thing to get so worked up about but we both did. For almost a week, and it wasn't fun. We both danced around the topic and acted like nothing was wrong, even though it was hanging out there like the elephant in the room.

We finally talked it out and thankfully things seem to be back to normal. Once we both opened up about what was bothering us we were able to discuss it like adults and work through each others neuroses. Fears were calmed, incorrect assumptions fixed, and feelings soothed. What had been a very awkward and strange week was no more and a general level of comfort and happiness soon followed. It's incredible how much better life is when things just "feel right" again.

To celebrate, Miss H ordered me into my favorite silver dress, white lingerie, and platform heels. We didn't really get into anything majorly kinky, just hung out together, cuddled, and watched some TV before settling back in the bedroom and snuggling under the covers. Miss H paid little attention to my sexual needs other then allowing me to rub her cock against her leg as I begged for release. When her needs were met I was dispatched to my side of the bed. "I'm done with you now, take your tiny little sissy clit over there and leave me alone. I'm going to bed you worthless cock sucker", she said in the most matter of fact tone. I was upset because I was still so painfully horny and desperate for relief but the forcefulness in her voice made it clear that whining for more attention would be useless. She was done for the night and unfortunately that meant so was I.

In the morning when I woke up I was still dressed and still extremely horny. I cuddle up and spooned Miss H from behind, hoping that she would awaken and possibly allow me some relief. She mumbled slightly and put her hand on my arm. Then shortly after she grinded against me with her ass, her unofficial signal that I was allowed to dry hump her ass. I wanted more but by that point I was so horny that I wasn't going to turn down anything so I quickly began rubbing against her. She fell back asleep soon afterwards but I continued on, edging myself over and over again, stifling my groans as I came close to cumming countless times.

For the next two and a half hours this process repeated itself. Miss H would make up slightly, I would roll over and cuddle up with her then if allowed I would dry hump her as she fell back asleep. Each time becoming more and more frustrated as I kept getting increasingly excited yet never getting the attention I wanted so badly. I could have gotten up and taken a shower and gone on with my day at any time yet I didn't, fearful that I would miss my opportunity to have Miss H possibly touch me or even something more. When she did get up she spent a good twenty minutes holding me in her arms and whispering the most horrible things in my ear. Humiliating, degrading, things that hurt me emotionally as much as her cane hurts me physically. I didn't want to admit to her how much they were turning me on though, I was to embarrassed and ashamed.

She knew though, the huge puddle of pre-cum I had leaked across the sheets were evidence enough of that.