Trussed up in a corset, rope harness, and 6" stilettos, we played for a bit (I promptly slipped under into an incoherent endorphin high)... I honestly don't remember much from the point that he bent me over the table to when he started shaking me to 'wake' me up. Apparently he left a few stripes with the cane without me even so much as flinching, and succeeded in leaving some bruises as well.
After he brought me back in to the land of the living, I made dinner. Under his direction. This was a challenge... I bit my tongue a couple of times and was mostly successful in keeping my facial expressions under control (though there was one look of utter incredulity when he asked if I had things under control and could finish dinner myself). Those of you who have been to dinner at my place will know why - I am an utter control freak in the kitchen. The kitchen is MY domain, and woe to anyone who is in there doing anything other than getting drinks or doing dishes. To have LD direct my cooking was an exasperating task. I would honestly just prefer "This is what I want for dinner, make it" or even "I feel like something light, use your imagination" and then just let. me. do. my. thing. Cooking for me is something deeply creative and personal. It's like directing every brush stroke of someone else's painting.
Somehow I still managed to crank out a decent meal, and I now have a mental list of every birthday/christmas/anniversary present that LD will ever receive. Note to self: need to bring my steel next time to sharpen his knives. I think his flatware might have been sharper. Between his woeful equipment and barren cupboards/fridge, it is quite obvious that LD is living the bachelor life... makes me want to storm the condo one weekend with boxes of prepared meals to keep him going during the week.
So! Dinner prepared, we sat down to eat and watch a movie... now, the last movie I saw at the cinema was Slumdog Millionnaire I think... I possibly was dragged out to some forgettable action flick starring Trophy Wife's heartthrob, but I honestly just do not watch a lot of movies, and when I do I tend to prefer documentaries or thought provoking independent-type films. LD chose "Boogie Nights", which was enjoyable on a superficial level, but somehow managed an ending which was both depressing and trite at the same time. Finally, it was time for bed.
Yes Dear Readers, I had my first sleepover :D
First of all, let me just say that it takes me a long time to get used to new sleeping situations... when DH and I bought the king sized bed it took me 2 weeks to get used to it. 2 very sleepless and uncomfortable weeks. Sleeping with LD was much better than that, but still foreign. Bodies need to find their natural fit against one another, pillows and blankets must be arranged... I normally jerk off right before bed; the endorphins helping me drift off, which I did not do... took me longer than usual to fall asleep and then I slept on and off all night... that strange sleep where all of your senses don't actually turn off, so you're aware of your surroundings, and aware that you're asleep at the same time (please tell me I'm not the only one who sleeps that way sometimes). Seeing as I enjoy cuddling, even while awake I wasn't exactly bemoaning my fate.
As predicted though, by 7:30 I was awake for the day. I suspect that LD could have slept longer. A quick romp testing out the sturdiness of his bed frame and LD was looking a little more awake. I must say, I'm a huge fan of morning sex (and middle of the night sex, and right before bed sex, and middle of the day sex...) and could totally get used to regular sleepovers. Was out the door by 9, off to run errands and get things ready for guests that evening.
Later that afternoon I get a text from LD - he's caught my sniffles and may not make it to the dinner party. I send off some motherly advice ("get lots of rest! have some dayquil! lots of fluids!") and continue with prep. A while later he confirms that he will not be attending. I apologize for infecting him and wish him a good night.
This is where my heart breaks Dear Readers.
I honestly thought that I had moved past his little lie a few months ago. When he texted me that he was ill and couldn't make it to dinner, there was not a moment of doubt in my mind when I wished him to get well and rest up.
Then I went to check my e-mail. I use iGoogle as a central homepage that shows all of my Google gadgets - my mail, RSS feed, calendar ... and Google Latitude. While LD was on his business trip, he had shared his Google Latitude with me... I suppose to prove that he was actually in the City he said he was (though you can manually set your location, so it's really not *that* much proof). As the only person I've got on Latitude, it's the map that shows up on my homepage. The map that showed that he was about 2km from home, in an area with a number of restaurants and a hotel.
I am so ashamed that my first thought was doubt. I KNOW that latitude is not the most accurate... while Latitude CLAIMS that it will pinpoint a person within 300m at the furthest, on his business trip, it showed him in the middle of a body of water. I also have cell phone signal problems around his building, so it would be perfectly reasonable for the location to be off... and yet I still had that moment of doubt. Despite the logical part of my brain trying to reason with me... the doubt lingered... to the point where I told myself that I would check his Latitude when I woke up in the morning, just to confirm that Latitude just can't pinpoint his condo building. As my logical brain suspected - at 5:30 this morning LD was still "2km from home".
I am so saddened by this. Despite everything we've done to build up our trust, despite all of my efforts to get past this... despite thinking that I HAD gotten past it... all it took was one small suggestion ... not even a very ACCURATE suggestion... and I was all too willing to doubt. I obviously still have more progress to make in this area...
So there you have it DR...
tl;dr - Picked LD up at the airport on Friday and de-stressed him; spent a kinky-domestic evening together on Saturday; hate being told how to cook, love spending the night cuddled up to him; infected him; my brain sucks. theend kthxbai
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