aftermath

If I only got one day this week with Daddy, yesterday was a pretty good one. I knew we were on a schedule and was told to be naked and ready for use when he got here. I was pumping and masturbating as I waited for him. He didn't waste any time when he got here. I was tossed around like a rag doll, ending up bent over the bed where he delivered several hard blows with his belt. The plug was yanked out and Daddy mounted me roughly, hand around my neck as he drove his cock deep inside of me. He lay on top of me and I arched my back as extremely as I could to meet with his thrusts and pressed my cheek against his. He and I only could touch tongues and he spit on me and bit my cheek. I can tell he is about to cum when he reaches under me first grabbing and holding onto my tits while he rides me then moving down to pull on my hips. He filled me with cum, stood up and shoved his condom covered cock in my mouth while I knelt before him. I was given five minutes to get cleaned up and ready to go.

We went downtown Los Angeles for a work related event he had to go to first stopping at Clifton's for lunch. It is a cafeteria which was built in the 30's replete with a thematic kitchy charm which is my favorite sort of place. It took longer than expected and we missed the first event, so we walked around downtown with Daddy giving me an architecture tour. It was surprising to me as I have believed that Los Angeles is devoid of any character or soul. To see these magnificent buildings with Daddy's characteristic nerdy knowledge base was genuinely wonderful. My little secret is that I am a nerd too. It could not have been a nicer day.

The rest of the afternoon into the evening we did his work stuff breaking to have dinner at another Los Angeles institution, The Pantry. The food was just so so but again, the place had been around since the 20's so I enjoyed the atmosphere and of course, the company.

After we finished his work we came back to my place and then began the uncomfortable conversation bit of the day. Daddy is concerned that I drink until I get drunk, talk about polyamory with my friends who don't understand and seem to have issues with our relationships as a whole. A little light conversation...ugh. I do resent the situation and I self-medicate with alcohol. I cannot argue with him about that. I'm the odd man out in this deal and feel as if I am drawing the short straw. I know he doesn't like hearing about this, I talk to my friends because I need a sounding board. He wants to be my sounding board which is great, only when I do tell him how I am feeling I am often mocked or lectured. I am not looking to him for a value judgement but rather tools to cope with these feelings. Ultimately, the talk was pretty miserable but I think we came to some good conclusions. He was vulnerable to me too and I don't want to pick that scab. We are both at a crossroads for different reasons and we need to help each other, not work against one another.

He was going to leave on that high note (eye roll) but I convinced him to fuck me again. We climbed into bed and he got on top of me wasting no time sticking his cock into his pussy. I belong to him. I moaned and babbled such things, my emotions coming from a deep and feral place. "What are you thinking now whore?" he asked, "I want you to hit me." I replied. He landed a firm blow to my left cheek which left my ears ringing. He spit on my lips and I licked it off hungrily. Daddy pumped me hard while telling me how much he loves what a trashy slut I am and we both came at the same time. 2AM, he smeared my face with the cum-filled condom and left.

It is the uncertainty that is killing me. I do believe he wants all of the things we have talked about and we are on the same page. How are we going to get there is the question? His resources are already allocated. There was some Japanese story I read once about a truth seeker going to visit a Buddhist monk for knowledge. As this traveller told the monk everything he believed the monk began to pour him a cup of tea. The traveller prattled on and on eventually noticing the monk had filled the tea cup to capacity and was now pouring tea which spilled over the brim and was covering the table, dripping on the floor. "How can you expect to gain anything when your cup is already so full?" I cannot help but see the parallel to my situation. I'm sure I will get shit for posting that, I am trying to have faith. There are a million and one reasons NOT to do this and only one reason to carry on; I love the fucker. It has to work.