Giving Thanks...

Being that I don’t celebrate (lower case is not accidental) thanksgiving due to what it represents, I can give thanks to having time with my guy for that dumb ass holiday.

At first I was iffy as to whether I would make it or not, but where there is a will there is a way. Therefore, I leave for NYC on Monday. He had set the plans in stone even before he was sure of my intent. Maybe he just knew that I would be able to manage it. Low and behold I did.

His mom, as of yesterday, already bought the bird which we will pick up on the day before. The day "of" will see us all working in the kitchen. However, I think we will leave him to the potato peeling. Actually, he is best on the couch while the women work.

Why am I thankful?

I am thankful that he is who he is even when I want to kill him (which is one third of the time).
I am thankful that he is honest even when honesty hurts (one or both of us).
I am thankful that he finally found out the day we met even down to the time (that was very special).
I am thankful that he can deal with my Roger Rabbit on crack personality.
I am thankful he laughs at my wha wha baby tizzy fits.
I am thankful that he started teaching me martial arts (FINALLY).
I am thankful that he has learned some Mohawk words.
I am thankful that he shows how he feels about me in the round about way he does things.
I am thankful for all the first time events we shared.
I am thankful for all the first time events he gave me.
I am thankful for his open mind.
I am thankful that I can tell him anything and everything.
I am thankful for his art (graphics, ink, and paint).
I am thankful for his eye (photography, graphics, ink, and paint).
I am thankful for his childlike manner.
I am thankful for his manly manner.
I am thankful he remembers.
I am thankful that he thinks about me.
I am thankful that we are still together.
I am thankful that when I am with him, I feel like a kid.
I am thankful that he does not care that I curse like a sailor.
I am thankful that he does not mind when I pounce on him.
I am thankful that he likes to play fight with me (even though we have both drawn blood).
Aw hell, I am just thankful I met him! ~ Maggie ~ Nov. 16, 2011 @ 9:49 p.m. EST

Regarding the picture, it is of my family. Now you know why I don't celebrate. Center stage: my great great grandfather. The woman with him is my great great grandmother. The children are: my grand aunt to his right and my grandfather to his left. The man standing on the far left is my great grandfather (an in-law to the two in front) and the woman to his right is my great grandmother (daughter to the couple in the center).

 

My Time With HIM~

When I walked in, the wall space that I had intended to use was blocked with objects due to his fixing up the apartment. What to do? How might I throw him against the wall and take him when there is no wall? “I’ll be right back.” he said. “I have to use the bathroom.” With this, I thought of the times he would enter that room and place his cock in my mouth as I let loose my water. The feeling of being open as such and taken as such much delighted me. How might it delight him? Much like I always do, I followed him into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub to which he thought nothing of it. However, when he was done with his business, I made a bee line for his cock before he could even attempt to pick up his pants. What started with me giving him wicked head from my seat at the edge of the tub continued to the floor where he was ramming his cock down my throat. Perhaps we were going at it for about half an hour or so before we headed to the bedroom. Once in the bedroom, something came over me; I thought of the wall! He, with his boots still on and his pants at his ankles, was mine for the taking. Surely, I did throw him on the bed and did jump upon him to have my fill. Usually, I can hear him cum, but not this time. My own vocals drowned his out to where I did not believe he came. Normally, I am loud and the neighbors have complained, but this time he said that I was screaming. I knew not that I was. --------------------------------------------------------- I had told him that I was re-reading “The Story of O” and that there was a movie made of the book. Although, the movie falls very short of what the book actually contains, I could say the same about the movie “9 ½ Weeks” as opposed to the book of the same title. He asked me if I would like him to get it so that we may watch it together. I agreed to this, but also I noted much was not in the movie. Despite this fact, in the middle of us watching the movie, he went to our bag of “things” and withdrew some items. Much to my delight, I was placed in my corset. He then chose which stocking and shoes I was to wear. He also pulled out a black lace shawl that served as a skirt, which he lovingly tied at my waist. When I was prepared, he commanded that I bend over the couch. After some teasing, he did enter me, but that too was a tease for he was not done. Out came the cuffs, collar, and chained nipple clamps that he also applied. Having my hands behind me and sitting in a most awkward position, he left the room to get himself a chocolate snack. From my position, seeing what he was eating was easy. He then asked me if I would like one to which I replied yes. Coming back from the kitchen, I could see that he had the treats in a dish. Although I thought he was going to feed it to me, he laid it down on the end table and told me to find a way to get to it and eat it. He hampered my ability to move by the way he had me bound. Nonetheless, I was able to wiggle over to the table. The chocolate treats were almost flush with the plate which made them almost impossible for me to get. As he watched, he laughed as I did my best to eat that which was placed in front of me. With time and effort, I did manage the feat. My chocolate-covered face gave him a good laugh to which he used his iPhone to capture my dismayed image. He saved the best treat for last. With his help, I stood up and he led me to the bedroom. ~ Maggie ~ November 16, 2011 @ 2:16 p.m. EST