Heaven

I try and make a pact with myself to give my blogging mind a break on weekends but… well.. it doesn’t always go that way.

You see, some things are just worth writing about, like the divinity that is my Ten Shades,

My Mr Wolfie.

Will I ever tire of him? Well, sure, if recent events are anything to go by, then maybe he’ll tire me.

Thursday, I woke early. I wasn’t sure if he had the day off and so reluctantly, I woke him. He wasn’t sure what weekend he was working either, so he called his office.

Fuck me.

Watching him pace slowly through the lounge, I realised the complete Adonis that I’m married to. His confidence, the smattering of hair on his chest, his broad shoulders and the way his lounge pants clinged to his hips. He was perfect.

Delectable.

Drinkable.

And I’d paid enough money for the privelege of drinking him in.

Come back to bed.

I wanted to smell him, feel, him, taste him.

Yesterday was filled with more antics.

He teased me, then headed for a shower. Not to be outdone, I decided to tease him right back.

“Fine, I’m gonna go masturbate.” I said, locking my enemy in my gaze.

Game on.

“What?” he said, half shocked and half amused.

“I said I’m gonna go masturbate” I repeated, making slowly for the bedroom.

Feeling his hand in my hair, I moaned. I could feel how pleased he was to have caught me and I smiled. I was as weak for him as he was for me.

Mr W knows how to get all kinds of delectable noises out of me and I am at his mercy when he strikes. Feeling his teeth against my inner thigh, I gasped. He meant business today.

“Sorry, Sir” I whispered.

“That’s better.”

Delicious.

Waking up this morning, I could hear Julia Michaels “Heaven” in my head, because that’s what this was, heaven. He’s oddly perfect, in his own perfectly imperfect way. With initials like MDS, he fits perfectly into this wicked world. I’ve never forgotten that conversation with my mother.

“What’s his initials?”

“MDS” I smiled.

The look on her face was priceless. I was in a relationship with a man who’s initials matched the man famed for discovering sadism, and one day, I was going to marry him and live in our blissful, fucked-up, happily-ever-after.

Life is good.

The life we lead now is surprisingly simple. He works, I blog, work out and clean. By the evening time, all is done and we are reunited. There is little to stress about, little to worry about and little to do besides the things we want to do. We scarcely argue, but we playfight a lot. Even if we can frustrate each other someimes, we’re a team.

Next month, we have the German Christmas Market that visits every year. Honestly? I can’t wait. It’s a magical, wonderful event. We starve ourselves before we go and engorge on all kinds of delicious (but calorific) delights while we’re there. Last year, we found the hot pork roll stand, the churros (there are some other international traders thrown in the mix, too) and the bratwurst, all washed down with a cup of hot chocolate and whipped cream. This year, I’ve insisted we explore the bubble waffles. It’s one of the times my little side comes out, with the lights and music and animations, it’s a wonderfully magical Christmas time that I get to spend with my Daddy.

I have started working on my first book now. It’s not the first book I planned to write, but it’s the way things are going to be. “Becoming Elena” tells my story from a quiet, controlled and undesired young woman to a comfident, capable and respected young lady. Watch this space for further updates 🙂

4 thoughts on “Heaven

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  1. Enjoy the market:) Personally I’ve found them colourful, but overpriced, good company *chuckles* however improve everything..
    Tasty Hot Waffles bring on a whole new meaning. And certainly Hyde, Park, one of the mega ones, 4 quid for a tiny plastic cup of tea isn’t for me. But the people watching, smells and camera opportunities make it worth it. I’ll be down to the Bham one next month. I’m always tempted by the cheeses, being somewhat of a cheeseophile myself. A study suggest cheese stimulates the same part of the brain as crack cocaine.. So I’ll stick with the cheese:)

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    1. Cost is always something, I just remind myself it’s once a year and so I grin and bear the setbacks (physically and financially) for a once a year event that I enjoy. As long as I take it slow and steady, I don’t usually find it too bad, just allow myself a day or two to recover afterwards 🙂

      Personally, I do enjoy my bratwurst at the on in Bristol. What can I say? There’s something to be enjoyed in putting a long, hot, juicy sausage in my mouth 😉

      Like

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