#positive feelings
I’m planning to write more details about yesterday sometime this weekend, but for now, here’s a very happy-making list.
- I got a reasonable amount of sleep.
- Reaction Junkie told me a story in the car on the way to work while I got myself off in the passenger seat.
- I had a nice lunch with My Boss.
- My Boss drove me to the top of a parking garage and spanked my ass with a paddle until I was whimpering and writhing.
- Reaction Junkie texted me during the day, telling me dirty thing he wanted to do to me.
- I had a good conversation with Nickname TBD and we planned getting together at the con coming up the weekend after this.
- I I had good time at happy hour D talking with friends, old and new.
- I made a new friend, Radical Girl.
- I got to see The Unknown Quantity, who I haven’t seen much of lately.
- While we were waiting for the train, Reaction Junkie was all dommy and made a friend of his, B, directly ask me if he could grab my ass and tits, and, when I said yes, B did so.
- Reaction Junkie then got me incredibly turned on by making me whisper lewd things to B on the train, despite my protests.
- Reaction Junkie used all the things he had done to me during the day (the orgasm in the morning, the texts during the day, the things he made B do to me and me do to B) against me, teasing me on on off for the rest of the night, and this morning.
When I started coming out of the headspace the scene had put me in, I suddenly realized there were a lot of people there. I had been entirely within the scene, so focused on Reaction Junkie, that I hadn’t noticed them at all. He and I gathered our things and walked to the couches outside of the main play area. We sat down for some aftercare, cuddling and talking. I had no way to know that this aftercare session would be just as intense as the scene that preceded it.
Reaction Junkie said something teasing, and I responded, “I hate you,” which, of course, I didn’t actually mean. His response took me entirely by surprise, “No you don’t. You love me.” My mouth dropped open and I couldn’t find words for a moment. Then I squirmed and buried my head in his chest. I said, “No,” and reiterated my hatred, “I hate you I hate you I hate you.” Reaction Junkie interrupted me, saying, “You say you hate me because if you didn’t, you’d say you loved me.”
I was shocked that he was bringing this up in this way, that he was just saying these things. Who does that? I was even a little mad at him. He was pushing me out into the open, making me confront feelings I hadn’t yet labeled even to myself. Finally, I was able to say, “I like you a lot.” Reaction Junkie shook his head. “You love me. You’ve loved me for weeks.” I stopped trying to dispute the emotion, although I also wasn’t ready to admit it. I instead focused on the timeline, “I don’t know about that.” He accepted that aspect, but continued to insist that I loved him.
I kept up my denial for a while. Finally, I admitted to it, “Okay. You’re right.” I said that it wasn’t something I had even acknowledged to myself. I’d brushed against it in conversation with friends and things I wrote for my feels blog, and even talked about the word “love,” but all in roundabout ways. Reaction Junkie said, “You know how I knew? Because of the jealousy feels.” He was talking about the first night he and I spent with Kitten. I shoved him a little and pouted. We continued talking and, as we did, I started thinking about everything that had happened that night and might happen now that my feelings for him were out in the open. I started crying, sobbing really, both from the pain and fear during the scene and because of the emotional intensity.
Reaction Junkie held me and comforted me. He asked what I needed, if there was anything he could do. He said he didn’t have a blanket and asked if I wanted to put my clothes on. I wasn’t sure what I wanted and was trying to sort it out when a guy came over to us. Normally that would be rude, but in this case it was actually really nice because he told us where the aftercare room was. I looked at Reaction Junkie and sniffled, “Can we go in there?” I felt bad for monopolizing him. I didn’t want to keep him taking care of me instead of going off and having fun with other people. But at the same time, I still needed care. Now it wasn’t just from the scene; I needed afteraftercare.
Obviously, Reaction Junkie immediately agreed we could go to the aftercare room. We cuddled up on a couch. He put a blanket over us and held me while I cried into him. We talked about the word “love” and about fear of saying it. My mind was racing as we talked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to say what I was thinking, but I decided to just spit it out instead of holding it inside and continuing to be upset about it. I told him, “I’m mostly upset because I don’t know how you feel.” Reaction Junkie paused. Then he told me that he’s also afraid of the word “love,” but that I should know he feels the same. He asked, “Would you feel better if I said it back?” I told him I didn’t want to make him say it, didn’t want to push him. He looked at me and said, “I love you.” I smiled at him and replied, “I love you.”
We stayed there talking for a long time, about our issues with sharing feelings, about not wanting to risk being hurt, about life, about the future, and about “our” possible future. My favorite moment was when Reaction Junkie said that he wouldn’t have said “I love you” to me unless he meant it. When I mentioned the times he’d said it sarcastically or in teasing way over the past few weeks. He repeated himself, “I wouldn’t have said it unless I meant it.” I looked at him and he added, “I said it sarcastically, but that was a way to protect myself and get myself to say it.” That means each time he’d said it over the previous weeks, each time he’d told me, “I love you” in a joking tone that would seem to imply he didn’t really mean what he was saying, each time, he’d meant it. He’d been saying “I love you” to me for weeks.*
I felt giddy and contented the rest of the night. I still get that warm fuzzy feeling when I think about it. We’ve grown even closer since then, and I’m ever so pleased with the way my life is going. It’s full of love, caring friends and partners, and hella fun.
*I’ve told multiple friends that bit of the story, and pretty much each person has responded, “Awwwwww!” That is the correct response. It’s sweet and adorable as fuck.
You’re skin is perfect size doesn’t make you or break you You d You’re on’t have to “lady like” to be a Queen My sweet princess you can play in dirt if please My king crying doesn’t make you weak Sweet prince playing with dolls doesn’t mean your a bitch You don’t have to look like the Prince/Princess in the movie You don’t have to rich to wear a crown of gold Don’t let the world tell you what beauty is Show them what beauty is Wear your make up Rock your natural Love your acne Show your rolls covered up Skin showing Your melinin is gold you’re pale as a pearl Copper is rich Royalty has no color Royalty has no size Your in charge Make your own rules Live by your own code Love who you are I know I do ♡
