One, Two, Three

Life is a blur at the moment.

Work is incredibly stressful, my peer group and several a level above me are crumbling.  Tears here, cracks there (not mine as of yet I hasten to add), however, I am definitely feeling the strains, but I'm focused on the prize.  Once the end of January comes around I can re-assess knowing I've made my part of the project a success.  I'm not so sure about other two women in my peer group.  Our department is most definitely the most exhausted; fighting fires and holding up the operational side of things with future planning and 'quick fix' plasters.  Unfortunately there's only so long you can work at that pace before things start to slip.  Mistakes are made, deadlines get lax, and when the machine of industry is in full motion... some people are going to get mowed down.  I got a call from internal resourcing on Thursday night pitching me a job.  A few succinct questions later and it appears I am being 'vetted' for one of my colleagues positions.  On Friday she called to advise me her probationary period had been extended as they weren't happy with her outputs, and both the portfolio directors and client had voiced their concerns.  I'm to call back resourcing on Monday to discuss things further.  The money would be a 10K uplift before I negotiate (and I always negotiate), but I'm not certain I could take it in clear conscience. 

I had a guy friend over for dinner and drinks last night.  We work together, but I've known him in a prior life and so it was great to catch up.  He is gay and I almost choked on my wine when he commented on Marine and his physique, mentioning he had seen him at my desk several times this week and that the girls in the department had been more than happy to see him in our area of the building.  It isn't news to me that Marine has a female following within the office; he is charismatic, confident, somewhat flirtatious, and his suit skims his muscles and toned body in all the right ways. I smiled, made a nod of agreement, and bit my tongue. 

Marine and I are meeting tonight for an honest conversation over a drink. 

There are lots of topics to be discussed if we are contemplating entering a BDSM arrangement.  What do we both want out of it, where are our limits, what are our curiosities, and now for the curve ball... Will my search for pleasure really let me overlook the silver circle on his left hand.  Yes bloggers, you read it right. The duct tape halo is currently in hand ready to be dis-guarded.  Not a relationship, not a dramatic complication, just pure, deviant, boundary pushing, unadulterated sexual fun.   

The last few days we have exchanged quite a few messages, playful and serious alike, and he has called most evenings where I have listened intently to the stories of the twists and turns of his life. At his playful and yet quietly confident request I've not touched myself or orgasm for the last two days.  Under the right hands my body would move like water at the slightest fingertip touch.   I've been pursued by people who at first glance are like Marine before, however he has depths and traits so familiar to me and yet so rare to find.  He reminds me of someone.  Someone safe yet daring. Bumped and bruised yet resilient and unbroken.  Painted face, clear agenda.  Eye on the prize.  Unguarded.  

"I have lived the majority of my fantasies, and the others I am sure we will develop together... I have an agenda, and it is centered around pleasing myself by pleasing you... Our fun would be with you and me, no sharing, and in depth.   I do not want to break you, this is not my thing.  I want to build you up.  I want you to feel like when I look at you in work; while nobody else knows around us, you have a flip in your tummy and a wettening that make you know you're mine."

It isn't often I find someone that can make me tongue tied, but he certainly has that particular talent. I'm not sure many would notice, he however has.  Gentle in approach, I feel intellectually and mentally guided; like walking into a crowded room and finding an unexpected hand in the small of your back as you start to stumble, guiding you to your destination.  Never pushing, always attentive.  The waters should look muddy, but they feel crystal clear.  

Amy Stroup - Far From Here

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