Letting It Slide
Previous - this entry written on November 10, 2005 at 7:21 pm - Next
...of course, realistically I do know what's wrong. And if I hadn't been so quick to jump to what were apparently the wrong conclusions - see, I CAN admit I was wrong, occasionally - I likely could have turned the experience into something... well, kinky isn't quite the right word, but something that would have left you fogged and loving it, rather than annoyed and twitchy.
Mind you, I'm still not regretting it. Extremely annoyed that I didn't get to drop a few less-than-subtle hints that would send you running to check your bank balance, then running back to growl at me so I could have the pleasure of slapping you down, yes. Irked that it was done more out of necessity and need than for the sheer amusement of it, certainly. Pleased that you didn't put up a fuss, simply cooperated, obeyed? Hell yes, and thinking about that is making me actually grin a bit. No regrets. *faint smile* Even though I know it's bothering you, I can't possibly regret it, there are too many sources of amusement and pleasure in it.
It was tempting to refuse to let you go back to your game, too; we both know it wouldn't take much conversation before you were fogged and content. I'm not going to right now, though; partly because talking on the phone was enough to get my throat back to scratching and I can feel the coughs-from-hell coming on again and I'd hate to be interrupted mid-way through to have to go throw up, partly because knowing you were so obedient when un-fogged is one hell of a turn-on.
And yes, being sick and aroused at the same time is a VERY weird set of sensations.
Anyway. I won't pull you out of your game yet; not until I've got the cough suppressants and anti-nausia stuff in my system and have kept down my next dose of antibiotics, or to put it another way, not until I can give you my full attention. That, my pet, is the closest thing to a reward I can and will give you for this. *shrugs* And now, I'm off to go stick my head over a boiling teakettle in an effort to keep from coughing my head off until Caleb gets his arse back here.
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