2024-11-29 - Scene with Tim

Posted on December 03, 2024
Word Count: 6411

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He was mercifully quick with the robe this session, only making me stand naked for him for a moment or two before wrapping it around me. The room was cold and I thanked him, genuinely grateful he wasn’t going to make me suffer the cold very long for his amusement. The metal of the d-rings around my play collar felt cold against my neck as I moved to sit down on the couch. I knew they would heat up soon so I wouldn’t notice them again, but the cold from them was certainly a nuisance at that moment.

I had asked for an assignment to work on for the day, but he didn’t send one until I was already busy. His typing assignments are generally short so I figured it could be completed easily before dinner. I asked him if he would prefer if I did the typing right away or do it later. He told me to get out the tablet and get ready to type. Get… ready?? Concern. What did he have planned?? As I was getting set up, he came over and opened my robe, announcing that I could now start the assignment. Then he promptly disappeared upstairs, leaving me working, and exposed, because it amused him to leave me like that.

While he was upstairs the typing was easy. I focused on the rhythm of my typing, starting the line like I was speaking. I’d rely on muscle memory until I got to the end of the line where I would slow down and ensure I hit the last few letters and the period, before I would speed up again on the next first word. When he was back downstairs though, my mind split, half on the assignment, half on him, where he was around me, what he was doing, etc., and although mistakes were reasonably low, they definitely happened as I lost focus. Of course, at my request, any assignments he gives me have a one line mistake penalty, because that’s hot and makes the assignments more interesting. I was happy when I completed it; I like finishing assignments for him.

As the evening moved on — dinner, TV — I started getting bored. Turned out I was in the mood for bratting. At least. . . light bratting. It’s a rare mood for me, but I was definitely up for pushing a bit. He’s amused. I’m amused. Win-win! We were watching TV and I would just start biting him… softly! He doesn’t care for being bitten but it’s a fun and clear signal that I want attention. I start very softly and he doesn’t let me escalate. I would absolutely escalate to much harder biting if left to try it but he always stops me, so it usually works out pretty well for me. My favorite moment was when he had me by the collar while we were watching TV and if I angled my head towards him (to bite) he would squeeze the collar keeping me facing forward. That was a lot of fun and I thought it was absolutely hilarious every time I tried and failed to bite him.

The mood kept up when we were done downstairs for the evening. He told me to grab my things and go upstairs. Okay so he had to say it twice but honestly that wasn’t bratting. The first time he said it it didn’t register with me. I don’t know what I was looking at, thinking about, or paying attention to, but the words flowed through me and didn’t stick until I heard him repeat them like — crap, oh yeah that was a command not just notice we were moving. But I did grab my stuff and I went up stairs. Three stairs, to be precise! I asked him if that was enough stairs, because he didn’t specify how many stairs I needed to go up. He laughed and commented that I was in a mood tonight. Yep. Absolutely. I stood on the third stair and watched him finish putting food away and finish up in the kitchen. And stood there grinning as he came up behind me to also head upstairs. He told me to go, so I went. And stopped at the top of the stairs, command completed. I stood perfectly in the way. I don’t remember what he said, but I do remember the look he gave me as he shoved me up against the wall. I felt my head bounce a little against it, but I was fine — it didn’t hurt at all and I love being shoved against a wall so no complaints here.

He went into his bedroom and turned off the heater and left me to stand out in the hallway without a command to bring me in. I attempted to be stubborn about it, but it was warmer in the room and I was already cold, so I gave in fairly quickly. It was in my best interest to go into the room and shut the door to prevent it from letting the heat out, and he was absolutely going to let me shoot myself in the foot if I wanted to brat over it. So mean!

Part of me did wonder if he turned the heater off because I was bratting, but I knew he probably just thought it was warm enough. It very certainly was not warm enough and I did have to ask him to turn it back on shortly after we started.

I was interested in continuing to brat but I didn’t want to outright disobey commands. I was hoping for the stern-Tim voice but never got it. He would tell me to lay on the bed, so I would, but intentionally not the way I knew he wanted. He would adjust me without much comment which was less fun. He disappeared for a moment to grab the shaving supplies from the bathroom. After a moment I got bored waiting for him and decided to sit up, something I would never normally do. If I’m put in a position I will damn well stay in that position until either told otherwise or there’s a genuine need to move. I couldn’t suppress my smirk when he came back (I should never play poker), but still no comment. Damn.

We talked while he stood behind me and I leaned back into him. I love contact with him. I didn’t realize I was leaning so far back until he told me to stand up and started to move. He stepped back to let me stand, but I was leaning into him with my feet pinned under my body, and I began to move backwards, too. I’m not sure if he noticed I was slowly falling, or if my squawk of surprise was what stopped him, but he quickly stepped back into me and helped me shift my balance forward so I could stand for him without thumping onto the floor first. He adjusted things on the bed and had me lay down, with a very specific command that left no room for bratting. At least not that I could come up with fast enough.

While the mischievous mood stayed with me for a while, it faded while he was shaving me.

I genuinely enjoy the shaving ritual, so I didn’t actually want to interrupt it. It’s calming, and about halfway through I fell into my usual pliable state, ready and happy to follow commands without trying to twist them or only obey to the letter. It’s fun to do, but it’s something I do when hyper, not when calm. When I’m feeling calm, I do whatever he says to the best of my ability. I really do just want to please.

I love being his project for a little while for him to shave me. I get his full focus, and all I have to do is relax and hold still for him. It of course, always ends with him putting me on all fours so he can get a different angle, but it’s uncomfortable in a fun way. Lying on my back doesn’t make me feel vulnerable, but on all fours with my head on the bed and my ass in the air is … something else. I want to say it’s hard for me, but it’s not with him. Vulnerable, compromised… but it just turns me on while he continues to shave me. My mood always goes very quickly from relaxed and pliable, to melted and enjoyably uncomfortable in one command. I love being uncomfortable like that — holding still for him in a compromising position, while he finishes shaving me how he wants me, and looks me over closely for stray hairs. It’s a really solid transition into the rest of the evening.

After shaving, he rinsed me off in the shower. If there was any brattiness left in me at all, it melted away when he commanded me in the shower. It only takes a few minutes but the whole thing makes me feel so submissive… so owned. He got the water ready, told me to get in, and was there to help me if I needed it. He told me how to stand, and I remember facing the wall, holding still, feeling the water hit me, waiting for his next command. I love the attention. I love how much it makes me feel that I’m his. Owned. Cared for. When finished, he helped me step out, toweled me off, and finally let me have my robe to keep me warm until we started the next part of the night.

I feel just so incredibly submissive from that process. While the discomfort from the cold isn’t erotic, there’s still something about the whole thing that just knocks any rebellion right out of me and leaves me a little unsure and off balance. It’s a really pleasant headspace to be in before going into any scene.

Tim wanted to do mummification again, with some changes this time. We discussed the plan and once again, we started with me kneeling on the bed while he wrapped my torso. At my suggestion, he also did my head while I was still kneeling. His original plan was to wrap my head once I was lying down, concerned that I might have trouble lying back with my head already covered. I wasn’t worried and convinced him it would be fine, so we went for it.

Having my head wrapped wasn’t nearly as intense this second time around, since I knew what to expect… but that isn’t to say it wasn’t awesome! And it was definitely still kind of intense. He used a blindfold again under the cling wrap. And he again, wrapped over my entire face, leaving me struggling under the plastic for breath. I remember breathing in and out as hard as I could, struggling against the plastic and getting almost nowhere. There was just enough air movement to make it feel like if I tried a little harder I might get more air, but I couldn’t.

And then I remember him talking calmly at me, telling me not to panic. I honestly didn’t think I was panicking so that really caught my attention, although it didn’t change anything in how I was acting. I continued to struggle until he broke the plastic over my mouth so I could finally get air. I remember listening to his calming voice soothing me, while I was kind of surprised. While I didn’t think I was panicking, I also wasn’t entirely in control of what my body was doing in that moment, either. I still felt fine inside my head, but my body was completely disagreeing with me. It was interesting.

That’s one of the moments I keep revisiting in my head days later. My body struggling hard while I feel almost like an observer from inside my own head, unable to do anything to help myself breathe. I had no arms or hands, or even eyes, and my head was already getting hard to move. I was sealed up and I was relying entirely on Tim to decide when I could breathe again. Physically, it felt better to struggle to breathe than to not, so I let myself struggle.

So much of scenes — with bondage especially — is just letting myself go and seeing what happens.

Being genuinely helpless with no way to get myself out, to be completely reliant on Tim, is honestly a little scary, but it’s also so damn hot. It’s probably hot because it’s a little scary but I also feel completely safe. Like a roller coaster or a scary movie — I get to enjoy or explore the reactions my body has to something scary or uncomfortable, safely.

I’m not sure when, but at some half-way point around my head he had be lay back. I took a moment, sat up high on my knees and just launched myself backwards on the bed, aiming for where I expected I should land. If I didn’t go far enough… well that would be his problem. But I did. I don’t think my feet were even off the bed this time, because they were last time.

I know he started wrapping my head while I was kneeling. I know he finished wrapping my head when I was lying down. I don’t know when he wrapped my legs in the order of things except that it was at some point while I was laying down. But he did wrap my legs and feet together, leaving me feeling even more helpless.

As he continued to wrap my head, my nose began to bother me. At first I thought it was a piece of loose wrap, but honestly I think it had to be something like a super-tiny hair that found its way to my left nostril. I wanted, so, so bad to rub at my nose but I couldn’t do anything. My hands were completely under the cling wrap so not only were they not accessible, but they wouldn’t be accessible until the end of the scene. And my head was wrapped to the point I couldn’t hardly move it so I couldn’t even like, turn my head and rub my nose on a pillow or something.

No, I had to ask for help.

And I had to ask for help more than once because the first time he helped me rub my nose, whatever it was was still there. I could feel it move when I breathed.

But here’s the thing. He didn’t just like, rub my nose, or put his hand there for me to rub against. No, I felt him put his hands on each side of my face, tilt my head up, and fucking inspect my nose. Holy fucking shit. It was so embarrassing and there was genuinely nothing I could do. What’s worse is because I had to ask for help more than once I’m pretty sure he did it more than once. Like. Come on.

I’m not sure how I would have felt if he’d asked me to submit to that in any other situation, but being completely helpless to it, was begrudgingly hot. Especially because it was so fucking un-sexy, except for the fact that I genuinely had no choice. I had something bothering me and I needed help, and he was looking up my nose do it, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I guess at least I didn’t have to look him in the face when he did it. My eyes were almost entirely blocked by the blind fold and the cling wrap on top. The most I got was some light around the edges… at least until he took care of that.

Once he was done wrapping my face in the cling wrap, he used black bondage tape over my eyes, taking the edge-lighting down to nothing. I was again in complete darkness, and it actually was really comforting. He went around and over my nose carefully with the bondage tape, ensuring that it didn’t get squished this time. Because the tape was loser overall, I could breathe a little bit through my nose under the tape. Not well, but a bit. Of course that didn’t matter at all once he took another piece of bondage tape and covered my mouth, sealing me in entirely. He set that piece aside and would use any time he felt like I needed to stop breathing for a moment or two.

When he was done wrapping me, he had done my torso and my legs separately, leaving a completely bare band of skin around my hips/ass/groin for his access. He used less cling wrap and less tape this time, as well, leaving me with a bit more movement ability while still being entirely restrained. I could move more but it wasn’t enough to make me any less helpless. And this time, he left my mouth quite a bit more restrained again. I could still talk, but had a limited ability to open my mouth.

He had a thick cardboard tube left from the cling wrap roll. The fucker smacked me with it, once on each breast, and hard. Just because it was there and he could.

He rolled me over. And there I was, face down, still unable to move.

I remember shuddering as he told me what he was going to do with me, which really was about all I could do, movement-wise. I have such a love-hate relationship with anal play, but I can’t deny how turned on I get. Which of course dooms me to anal being a regular part of our play. He enjoys my reaction far too much, and I hate to admit that I do, too. He was going to start with the Slink, the big toy I have, to see how far he could stretch me. The routine prep for using that toy on me has become using a lube syringe on me to ensure adequate internal lubrication for its size. The length of it can bother me and I have to begrudgingly admit that I do tend to handle the length better with the extra lube. Something feels subtly wrong about the syringe slipping inside me. Which is, of course, hot. And it’s not like I have any choice in the matter.

As large as the toy is, it’s mostly just really long with a very smooth and steady taper, going from a thin rounded point to the thickest toy I own, but that smooth and subtle increase allows him to stretch me to my limit very quickly and easily, and if he has the patience and the plan, can open me even farther as I relax and adjust. It’s actually a really good toy for stretching me open for whatever he wants to do with me.

I felt the hard tip press against me and it slid inside of me smooth and easy. It felt like he was going too fast, seeming mostly interested in figuring out my limit. It didn’t feel like I was able to take much but the feel of the toy is fairly deceptive, so I genuinely don’t know how far I got before it started hurting. Regardless, he seemed quite satisfied with how much I was able to take for the evening. He slid the toy out of me easily and began to push the “medium” plug inside me. I got close, but wasn’t able to relax enough to take it entirely without pain. He decided not to push me and replaced it with the “small” size, leaving it in me for the evening. As he worked, he told me that while he wouldn’t be fucking me tonight, eventually, he absolutely will fuck my ass while I’m helpless like this. And man. Man oh man. I want him to, so much. I was actually disappointed to hear it wouldn’t be that night, and if I had any expectation that I could have taken it I would have protested and encouraged him to do it anyway. The thought of being that helpless while he used me like that is so incredibly hot. But he was right and I wasn’t ready and I fucking knew it.

Next, he planned to cane me. Laying there, completely helpless with absolutely no escape, being told I was about to be caned is such a scary moment. Canes have so much potential for serious pain that they are frightening on their own, which of course is one of the reasons I love them so much. And all I would be able to do was lay there and scream. There was no escape. Not even any crawling away. He loves to take me up to my pain threshold and I was completely helpless to any amount of pain he wanted to inflict.

That’s the word for the night, isn’t it? Helpless.

And I love it so much.

I trust him so completely that scary moments are just hot. I have confidence that he will always take good care of me, and any pain he chooses to bring me will be safe. Even when it’s so much I can’t hardly stand it, I know that I’m always safe with him, my owner, and that giving myself over to whatever he wants to do to me will be fun for both of us. And even if something goes wrong, and it’s not fun, he’ll still take care of me.

He actually went easier on me than usual. He also flogged me for a while, and spanked some. Overall, he didn’t escalate too close to my threshold. Like, sure, it hurt, and I probably screamed, but it’s not like he was making me scream over and over. It was tolerable.

I did have some trouble being face-down on the bed while he worked me over. I had limited movement on my head, and while we had a yoga mat underneath me so the bed wouldn’t smother me, I still had a hard time positioning my face in a way I could breathe well. Because I did have limited ability to breathe through my nose, I would regularly find myself relaxing my face with my mouth closed and have to adjust. He was occasionally taking breaks to cut off my air, so I needed to be ready. That meant that getting limited air before-hand could leave me in a bad state and I didn’t want to deal with that or make him deal with that. Keeping my mouth open to ensure I was getting a lot of air was straining on my jaw though. Every once in a while it would start to shake from holding my head up while being open. I eventually managed to stretch the cling wrap enough that I got my head turned enough to the side that I could open my mouth easier for longer with less strain on my jaw but I don’t think I was ever fully relaxed when I had my mouth open.

I also had some trouble with my left hand specifically. He’s wrapped that hand a little tighter and my thumb was in a kind of difficult position while under me. When he stopped to check on me it was included in my report — I’m a little concerned about my left hand, it’s fine for now, nothing going numb, but may be a concern later on. I was able to actually get my hand adjusted for how I was laying and it became a nonissue, but the whole thing makes me want to make like bondage gloves/mittens. Just something to cover my hands with enough space that I can move my fingers but still blocked in for certain bondage things like this. That way it will be consistent and always have enough space that I don’t end up in trouble because my thumb needs another two millimeters of space or something stupid like that.

Finally he rolled me back over. Thinking on it now, I don’t remember if this happened before he moved me face-down or after (or both?), but I think after, so I’m putting it here. I just remember him being really close to me, leaning down, and kissing me so deeply that I couldn’t breathe. If I breathed in slowly, sure I could get some air from around the tape on my nose, but that wasn’t usually how it worked. I would inhale sharply, unintentionally sealing myself in while he kissed me deeply and passionately, knowing full well that he had blocked my air entirely. And I fought. Holy hell did I fight and struggle against him. I tried hard, genuinely, to break free and get breath. And I couldn’t do a damn thing. I wasn’t able to break away from him once.

Normally when he does breath play like that I have to fight myself to hold still for him, only finally struggling when my body wins over my head and desire to hold still for him. Normally I genuinely have the ability to break contact by snapping my head to one side, or twisting my body. Or sometimes just opening my mouth wider. Wrapped up like this I was so immobilized that my genuine attempts at struggling got me nowhere. I couldn’t even open my mouth wider. Letting myself struggle as hard as my body wanted to struggle and being completely unable to stop what he was doing to me was both terrifying and freeing.

I know before he cut me out he took the vibrator out and used it on me. I don’t remember a lot of it. I remember my body clenching and I think I had an orgasm but sometimes it’s so hard to tell with that thing because sometimes it just makes my body tight like I’m having one without the actual release. When he was done playing with me himself, he pulled open some space between my legs and nestled it in my thighs, pressing against my clit. It’s a relatively small thing, so it easily stayed in place when he let go. I don’t know what he was doing, but I just remember squirming. I would squirm one way and it would release some of the pressure on my clit, and I’d squirm another way and the pressure would come back. It was too much to leave pressed hard, but the squirming allowed for good stimulation without it being overwhelming. Or something. I mostly had to make the best of it because it’s not like I could open my legs and let it fall out. The best I had was small squirming movements.

When he was done watching that, he cut the plastic around my body, leaving the wrap around my head in tact. He was a lot more gentle pulling the wrap off me this time, allowing me to help more, and it was a much easier experience. The slow peeling didn’t really hurt like the fast pulling had last session, although it did occasionally still stick or catch hair it was overall almost soothing. I remember laying there with my front half free and I could tell it was still fully stuck to my back, but I just needed a moment to lay there before we moved on. We weren’t even done for the night yet and I already needed a rest.

I felt cold without the wrap. I think I may have asked him to kick the heater on, again. Why is everything always so damn cold.

When I was ready, he helped me get up. The wrap fell easily off my back as I moved, and soon I stood at the end of the bed with him in front of me. I was still blind from having the cling wrap and bondage tape still attached around my head and face. He planned to leave the wrap around my head for a while. Except one issue… I needed to use the bathroom. Welp. I offered to try while blind but he didn’t like the risk involved in walking blind and decided to take the wrap off my head against my protest. I was pretty sure if I just kept my hands on the walls as I moved I’d be fine, but he wasn’t willing to let me risk it.

The room was far too bright. Everything was far too bright.

I debated really hard on if I wanted to include this next bit in my writeup. I find it incredibly embarrassing, but at the same time, things just go wrong sometimes and on the scale of things going wrong this ranks pretty low. It wasn’t scene-ending. It wasn’t even any sort of emotional breakdown. It did require me to include more information earlier than I originally wanted to. But I do honestly like to include things going wrong because so much of what you find out there is only about when things go right. So. When I was done in the bathroom, I came out and as I was standing there, suddenly something felt … off with the plug although I wasn’t sure what, and he asked me if something was wrong, or if I was okay, or something like that, and before I could say anything the plug he’d left in me from earlier just… fell out. He picked it up and went to clean it, and as I stood there, I was horrified to feel the significant amount of lube that he’d used earlier start to ooze out of me and drip down my legs. And panic set in a bit because I was completely unable to stop it. I stood frozen for what felt like forever before I limped as carefully as I could back to the bathroom, trying (successfully) to ensure nothing got on the carpet, and had another small wave of panic and “oh god what do I do” since he was still at the sink cleaning the plug. Before I could do or say anything about it, though, he did leave me alone, letting me clean myself up by myself, while I tried to pull together any dignity I had left.

He sat on the end of the bed and had me kneel in front of him. I admitted how embarrassed I was over the whole thing and he told me I didn’t need to be embarrassed. I realized though that I didn’t actually mind that I was embarrassed with him. It was safe to let myself be flawed and messy and human with him. I couldn’t help how I felt, but it wasn’t world-ending for me, it was just one more thing to share with him. But it was incredibly comforting and mildly jarring in a good way, to hear him tell me that it was his ass, he had chosen how much lube to use and what size plug to leave in me and I had no choice in it so I had nothing to be embarrassed about. Something about hearing him claim ownership of not just me as a whole, but the parts, specifically… I don’t know but it felt different, and it felt really good. It’s one thing to say that he owns me, but getting specific like that, especially over something happening like that, just hit different.

But it’s true, though. The fact that he was doing these things to me, and I had no choice in any of it… it was all his decision, all things he put me through and I had no say about it, it really does make it easier to think about, to write about. To share with others. This is just what he did to me, and it was all him, just playing with his pet. I was just… the pet. All the responsibility for what happened to me, good and bad, is his. It’s even easier because we don’t necessarily only play with just things I like. The fact that he plays outside of my comfort zone, picking up things that I don’t always enjoy, but will take for him, makes it even easier to set aside any internal conflicts on the matter. It was all him; all I did was verify it wasn’t a hard limit.

Like many moments in our play sessions, my memory gets really fuzzy here since I don’t actually remember the transition. What I do remember is being incredibly aroused, panting, looking at him, while he had my mouth open, fingers pulling at my lips and cheeks. I remember just trying to keep myself together while he told me he was going to use my mouth tonight to get off. It was so fucking hot. And far too short. And then I was blowing him. I enjoyed it easily at first but as I kept going I felt my jaw weakening. I got more determined and it continued to fail me. I adjusted what my hands were doing. I adjusted how I was sitting. I adjusted my arms. I transitioned to pushing off my legs and tried to position my arms so my body was taking more of the burden off my mouth, hoping that I could keep it up long enough…

He stopped me.

Damn.

He checked in on me and I admitted what was going on. My jaw was not holding up to the blow job that well. I explained what had happened when I was face-down on the bed, which in the moment hadn’t been a big deal, but was now coming back to be a problem. I could feel that “failure” feeling creeping in around the edges as we talked, but I did my best to ignore it. I couldn’t help my body giving out on me. As we talked my jaw started to feel better and was about to offer to continue the BJ but before I could, he said he had an idea and got up. He came back with the vibrator and handed it to me. He wanted me to use it on myself while licking his balls while he finished himself off. Sure, I could do that. The “failure” feeling nagged at me again, quiet and at just the very edges of my mind… he said he was going to use my mouth, and this isn’t what he meant. I shrugged it off; I was going to follow my instructions.

I pressed the vibrator against my clit and let it bring noises from me. When I masturbate alone I’m quiet, but this was for him, for Tim, for my owner. I knew he wanted to know I was feeling it, so I let it do its job. I used the vibrator with intention to specifically let noise build and escape me, as I licked as hard as I could for him. I would occasionally suck the loose skin into my mouth with a soft nibble and returned to licking. I listened to the noises he made and let his reactions guide my tongue. I know I was making noise for him, but I only remember him. The noise he was making told me how happy he was with my performance, and soon he was coming. I looked up to see him holding his cock, white dripped all over his belly, and a very satisfied look on his face as he looked back down at me.

After he had recovered a bit he told me how much he had enjoyed listening to the noises I made, and how good I was with my tongue… and how hard he came from it. And that nagging little “failure” feeling disappeared completely. He was happy with me and I had pleased him and that’s all that mattered in the world anymore.

He brought me up onto the bed to have me continue playing with the vibrator while he messed with me. He played with my breasts. He bit painfully at my thighs… sorry he pressed teeth into my thighs because he was very insistent that it wasn’t actually biting, and bit me elsewhere to compare. I don’t care, it was teeth and it hurt. The whole time though my mind kept pulling back to something else. I wanted something else. I wanted him spanking me. I wanted that very specific and intimate pain. And I wanted so much to be over his lap while he did it. And as we kept going I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to hit orgasm with this vibrator with what we were doing anyway.

So I told him that I would really like spanking. I remember feeling very small as I suggested it. I always feel so unsure when I express a desire like that. He loved the idea though, and I didn’t even have to ask to be over his lap because that’s exactly what he wanted to do with me anyway.

He laid back on the bed and had me get comfortable over his lap. I hooked one leg under one of his and figured out a position that allowed me to comfortably continue using the vibrator over his lap. It felt amazing. He hit me hard and fast and it probably would have been too much for me except the vibrator kept the pain in check. I loved feeling him hit me that hard. I loved him working me over like that. He finally decided to play with my ass and the extra stimulation tipped me over the edge and I orgasmed over his lap, compressing myself against his legs. It wasn’t a particularly strong one, but it was a satisfying end to the evening.

I laid there for several moments, feeling the tired setting in. It wasn’t the most comfortable location and managed to get myself up, I turned by body 90 degrees, and I collapsed into a very comfortable cuddle on top of him. He held me until it was time to get ready for bed, and it was so nice and comforting.

So many little things going wrong and I would still consider the evening a huge success. I just keep coming back to it over and over. This started as a discord message to Tim, musing about one moment which turned into more moments, and before I knew it I was writing. And then I was writing more. And then even more. The evening was hot. Tim was skilled. And I felt so completely his.