Admitting that I am a good girl before my next spanking

My guy and I chatted on Skype yesterday night. I was driving home from work. He had just finished packing.

He hasn't been able to call me for the last two days.

"I apologize," he said to me.
"Cool. You're a bad boy and I'm a good girl," I replied.
"Only for today," he replied.

See, another breakthrough has happened! I am a good girl for a full 24 hours. Yay!

I get to see him tomorrow, as he is flying home.

"You'll be a bad girl by the time I land. You'll be getting a spanking from me."

I can't wait to see him. I like when he threatens to spank me.

What to write about? Missing my guy and admiring betta fish

When I did the A to Z blog challenge, I didn't have any issue writing about anything. Topics were there, ideas came to me quickly, and I just wrote away.

Now that the challenge is over, I find that I can't think of anything to write. At least, that's how I feel.

Perhaps it is also because I haven't been able to talk to my guy. He came back late on Wednesday night and was too tired to call me. Yesterday, he managed to say hi online, but he was dead tired.

I miss him even more when we don't talk while we are apart.

To counter this temporary void, I found an aquarium store on my way home from work. It is huge! I saw some cool betta fish. I nearly bought another one. One of them was purple.

It's unfortunate that you can only have one betta fish in a tank. Introduce another one in the same tank and they will stress each other out, and one possibly might die after they are done fighting each other.

They are nice to look at. I probably stood in front of the betta fish section for ten minutes, admiring how gracefully they were swimming by themselves.

I also can't believe how many betta toys are out there. I browsed. I am sure that I will be back to spoil my fish with a leaf hammock or log.

I can still hear my guy tell me that I am taking my pet fish too seriously. I care about my fish. My guy is genuinely happy that I have a pet fish. My fish enjoys blowing bubbles on the surface and insisting on eating dried bloodworms.

I am glad that I have a pet again. It's nice to watch him swim and love his environment. It also fills the void of my guy not being with me a bit.

Hot dogs and an upcoming spanking

Conversations that my guy and I have are fun. Part of our conversation the other day went like the following:

"I'm hungry and I don't know where to go to grab a bite to eat," I said to my guy as I was driving (my phone was connected to my bluetooth speakerphone in my car).
"Why don't you go to Costco and get a hot dog?" he suggested.
"What?!" I questioned, as if I had heard him incorrectly. "You're letting me get a hot dog?"
"Yes," he replied.
"See, miracles can come true," I stated factually. "When you come back, I will drive your car."
"Um, no," he replied.
"Sure, I will. I may need another two years to convince you, but it will happen. I am a good girl after all," I hinted.
"You will never be a good girl. If I weren't away, you'd have a sore butt."
"No, you're wrong. I'm definitely a good girl," I teased.
"When I am back, the first matter is to punish you and give you a hard spanking," he said.

I love our conversations. He does, too.

Spanking interest, fish jealousy, and laser eye surgery

It's enjoyable teasing my guy. I basically teased him about how he will not let me drive his car. I tried convincing him -- that sharing means caring. Nope. His car is his baby.

He mentioned wanting to be spanked today. I suppose the light spankings that he has received so far are making him want to explore being spanked some more. I love his enthusiasm. The only downside is that he's not here!

He returns home in a few days. He has not been enjoying his commute from his hotel to work in Dublin. It took him nearly two hours today. So, he is changing hotels and moving closer to the office.

As for me, I am interested in finding decent fish supplies for my pet betta. My guy thinks that I am taking my fish way too seriously. I don't think that I am overdoing it. Perhaps he is jealous that I am pampering my fish more these days.

Anyway, my guy is interested in getting laser eye surgery. I have done a decent amount of research over the years. My prescription isn't bad. My optometrist doesn't think that it's worth it for me to have the surgery. My guy would be a better candidate.

"I like when you're not wearing your glasses. You look good," I told him.
"Thanks, sweetie," he replied. "The only problem is that I have bags under my eyes and my glasses hide them."

The secret is out at long last.

Z is for zany

I have made it to this challenge's finish line! I don't know how to end it off, other than writing about something zany. Well, I think it's weird.

My guy has arrived in Dublin. He isn't too crazy about the place. He finds it old and the roads are too narrow for his car.

We are similar in that we worry about such details, but we we rely on each other for support and comfort. Otherwise, he is doing well.

We did a role reversal today. That alone is wacky.

In the past, I accidentally gave him the nickname of Cheap Bastard (CB), which he has embraced. He loves buying items at discounted rates and gets a high out of it.

These days, I call myself the CB protege. We had this conversation on Skype as I was driving home from work and my guy was getting ready to turn in for the night.

"It's starting to rain. I wanted to wash my car yesterday, but held off because it was to rain today and I want a free car wash," I admitted to my guy.
"I am so proud of you," my guy said to me. "You go to liquidation outlets, you buy a sweater for 50% off its sale price, and now you are saving on car washes," my guy said.
"See, I am a CB protege," I replied.
"Yes, you are. A certified one, too," he stated.
"The rain is really pouring down now. If I drive a bit faster, my car will be shiny," I joked.
"Maybe you can use dishwasher soap and put a dab on the hood," my guy said.
"Hey, that would work. But, the guy behind me would get annoyed clearing all the suds off his car," I noted.

We both laughed, especially about the part where I want to dye the soap suds pink.

Is it Friday yet? It should be at this rate!

Y is for yawning

It has dawned on me that I am nearly done with this month's Blogging from A to Z challenge. Time flies.

I supposed that it's a bit early to do some sort of retrospective. I enjoyed this year's far more than last year's. I am guessing that it's because both my guy and I have have been pretty content as of late. It makes a huge difference on so many levels.

My guy is still on the road. He just finished a week working in Budapest. He had to catch a 06:00 flight to get to Dublin on Sunday.

We talked briefly on Skype on Sunday afternoon (his evening):

"How are you holding up?" I asked him.
"Everywhere I go, I sleep. I slept waiting for my flight, on my flight, in my hotel room,... pretty much anywhere," my guy said, yawning afterwards.
"So, you're sleeping around?" I joked.
"Yes, I sleep around as much as a prostitute does," he confirmed.
"So I should call you my slutty sleepyhead?" I asked him.
"Sure!" 

I rarely yawn. I only do when I am exhausted. Throughout the day, I don't. I am not sure why that is.

I have been pretty tired these days and spent this weekend sleeping more than I usually do. On Friday night, I slept for nine hours. On Saturday night, I slept for eight hours.

My guy and I enjoy sleep. My guy needs more hours than I do. He really is my sleepyhead.

X is for Xpectation

When I first learned of Prince's passing, I thought it was a hoax -- a sick joke. Unfortunately, it was true.

I was first introduced to his music when I was in grade 5. I had never heard any of his songs actually sung by Prince himself, though. When I went to Cantonese school, there were two older students who were constantly singing "Little Red Corvette" and "1999" in class.

A year or so later, I heard songs from Prince's Purple Rain album. Hit after hit came from that album. I loved it all. He was a brilliant artist, performer, and individual.

I am not sure whether he is truly responsible for my love for anything purple. I am proud that I lived in his home state of Minnesota for a couple of years.

He released 39 albums. I suspect that he had many more to offer. He left this world too early. Folks in heaven are blessed to have him.

One of his albums was Xpectation. I love this album because it is completely instrumental. All songs on this album start with the letter x, which is fitting for this part of the challenge.

This album also represents an album change that you'd expect from Prince. He did whatever he wanted to do. He loved branching out. He was a creative artist.

Someone has posted the entire album on YouTube:

Take time to listen to it. It is a relaxing album to unwind to.

I won't list my favourite Prince songs, as there are many! I will offer a couple of tidbits about a couple of singers that I loved from my teen years:

• Cyndi Lauper's "When you were mine" was written and originally sung by Prince. 
• The guitar opening that you hear on Madonna's "Like a prayer" was performed by Prince.

May he rest in peace.

W is for wine and whine

My guy and I had dinner one evening at the Olive Garden restaurant. I introduced him to this place when we were both in New Jersey a few years ago. We were both there for work. I was in a two-week training course. My guy was teaching a different course to fellow colleagues for a week.

The restaurant offers free wine-tasting. We both sampled the red wine offered that evening. He took one sip and gave me a boyish I-don't-like-it expression on his face, which included a lot of eye blinks and tongue flickers.

On the contrary, I loved the wine. My guy have me his and I finished it. Needless to say, I am more of a wine fan than my guy.

I playfully whine about how sore my backside is after my guy has punished me. We both enjoy that. When we aren't being playful or intimate, we rarely whine about much.

However, my guy does break out and whine about something now and again. It mostly deals with items at his favourite store, Costco. He only whines about not getting a shirt or wool pants in his size to me. I try to console him and often suggest that we visit another Costco location. This suggestion helped fix one of the two problems recently.

Although my guy doesn't like being referred to as boyish (it makes sense, as he is a mature, grown man), he is. It is who he is. There's nothing wrong with that at all.

V is for vivid memory and imagination

Recently, my guy and I went shopping at JC Penney in Seattle. He is always looking for a jacket or some nice article of clothing to wear. He likes to look good for work.

We were looking at jackets that were marked down. They looked nice, but the fabric didn't feel nice. We both like corduroy and looked at a jacket made of that material.

"I have one already," he said to me. "It's a corduroy one in brown."
"I know," I replied. "You wore it in Stockholm. One night, after dinner, I was cold. You let me wear it."
"You have such a great memory," my guy remarked.
"Thanks. Your jacket fit me, except that I couldn't button it up because my boobs got in the way. If I didn't have boobs, I would have been able to button your jacket up," I replied, which made him laugh.
"I am glad that you have boob," he said, grinning.
"Yes. I love when you play with them."

A couple of weekends ago, I went out with a friend and was driving her home. She told me that there was a guy cooking in his kitchen apartment and he was naked.

In a way, I was glad that I had my eyes on the road, instead of on that naked guy.

Isn't cooking in front of a stove dangerous when you're nude? As a man, you could get your manhood caught in the fridge door or burned by accident. If you're frying something in the pan, oil can platter on you.

Of course, I'd love to see my guy naked all the time. However, I don't want him injured that way in the kitchen.

U is for uneven number of smacks

My guy is guilty of giving me lopsided spankings. By lopsided, I mean that he tends to give more smacks on one buttock than the other.

While on vacation, I liked when I was getting something from my suitcase or standing in our hotel room, doing something. He would walk past me to do something himself and give me a smack across my left buttock. He walked past me again and did the same thing to the same buttock.

"Can't you alternate and not give me an uneven number of smacks?" I asked, challenging him.
"Sure," he said, coming over and giving me ten rapid smacks on my right buttock.
"You don't learn, do you?" I said.
"Of course, I do," he replied.

He finally did manage to even out the hand spanks that he was dishing out. I got more smacks to even things oiut. It's fun to complain. I did get want I wanted! He also knows that I like math, as does he.

T is for things are looking brighter, telephone, and texting

At work, my manager sits next to me. It is a different type of working relationship that has blossomed into a friendship. It's a first for me.

Back in December of last year, a writer, who was highly defensive, quit. I was reviewing the entire team's work for quality. Instead, what I wanted to do career-wise was sidetracked. I had to not only take over her responsibilities, but needed to preserve most of mine.

I was miserable. I told my boss that it was time for me to look for a new job. I revamped my resume and sent it out for various positions.

Lately, I have resorted to eating at my desk like I used to when I was the lone writer. I don't like doing it, but it is better than my putting even more overtime on weeknights. The last thing that I want to do is work on the weekends.

My manager has slowly tried to keep me from leaving. He has finally succeeded.

My boss and I had a talk last week. Early next month, two interns join our team, so I will be training them as I have done in the past with the previous two interns. A writer from a different group in South America will be joining our team, too.

The plan? I go back to reviewing the team's written work on top of working with the interns. The interns take over my work on two development teams. The new writer takes over my work on my third team. Yes, I am on three different agile teams, which is both crazy and ludicrous when it comes to my workload of being the lead writer.

I am happy. I had another talk with my manager on Tuesday, who confirmed that this plan is going ahead. Yay!

As for my guy, I am missing him these days. At work on Tuesday, I managed to park my car in front of his. Of course, I am itching to tease my guy by telling him that he should let me drive his manual car while he is away.

Whenever I am travelling in the States, I change my SIM card in my phone and go with a cheaper phone, text, and data plan than my regular cell phone provider. After work on our first full day in Seattle, my guy tried calling my regular cell phone number. When he got back to the hotel, he had wondered what had happened to me. I told him that I have a different number and texted it to him.

My guy has some decent company perks. Since he travels a lot, our company pays for his cell phone and plan, including travel data packs. So, it's perfectly fine for me to text and call his cell phone in the States with my different SIM card. I would not be that fortunate and would probably fork half my paycheque out if I did the same with my regular cell phone plan.

My favourite text exchange was on Friday afternoon. We had discussed having lunch together before my guy left work work. It didn't pan out, though.

MG: Hi, guys want me to have lunch with them to ask some questions. Sorry our lunch plans have to be cancelled. Will see you shortly after lunch.
Me: Hey, no problem. Just need to deal with you later about that. =) I'm music-shopping. Ping me when you're done. Enjoy lunch and hope the questions aren't too hard.

When we text, we actually write full sentences. We don't find that weird at all. We aren't too crazy about short forms, which is nice.

My guy did call me when he had arrived at the mall, in a specific store. It was nice to hear his voice. I had to ask him where he was. I found him in the men's clothing section. It would have been much worse had I asked my directionally challenged guy to find me in the store!

We did spent our final night in Seattle shopping, eating, laughing, and more.

S is for spanking with spoons

After my guy was off work, he came back to the hotel to pick me up. We were off to shop.

We had to visit the Dollar Store. He needed to ship a bunch of training manuals back to our office and needed tape. It reminded me of the scene in Fifty Shades of Grey when Christian visited Ana's workplace to get some duct tape and rope.

I am pretty good at figuring out which aisle to go to for various items, even if I have never been to that particular store before. We found tape in the stationery area, which makes perfect sense to me.

We ended up in the kitchen accessories aisle. My guy found a four-pack of plastic spoons for mixing batter and such.We both liked the pastel colours. He took one and told me to bend over. He used the spoon on my backside a few times. He liked that it stung and bought the entire set. Yes, he splurged at the Dollar Store.

When my guy was at the checkout, the woman asked what we were going to cook when we got home. I didn't really want to say that it was for disciplining me, but I managed to make up something.

Anyway, we had a good evening spending time together and shopping. We then headed back to the hotel.

My guy loves my legs. I was in my pyjamas after I had finished showering. I wore a short-sleeved top and shorts.

He used the longest plastic mixing spoon, which was a pale pink, and slapped my thighs and calves with it. He then put me across his knee as he was sitting on the bed and used it on my backside. I was excited, even though it was starting to sting.

My shorts and panties came off. He spanked me some more with the spoon. I liked the sound that it made against my bare backside, but it hurt.

He stopped and rubbed my sore bottom for a bit. He then held me in his arms as I curled up against him.

It was the perfect way to end the evening.

R is for rubbing my sore butt

My guy used a leather paddle, his leather belt, plastic mixing spoons, and his hand to punish me while I was on vacation and he was working during the daytime in Seattle. I loved it all.

Towards the end of the week, when he used the leather paddle, I had no choice but to rub my sore backside afterwards. He smiled at me.

"That hurt," I said like a little girl, continuing to rub my warm bottom as I stood next to him.
"Good. You know that you deserved all of it," he said, smiling.
"No, you're just Mr. Meanie," I said, enjoying this ritual of whining about how sore my butt is.
"That's my job, sweetie," he said, giving me one final smack as he hit the showers.

My guy was nude. For the extra hard smack that I got, it was worth seeing him walk away as I admired his nice, attractive body from afar.

Q is for quibble

I normally have difficulties trying to find a topic that starts with the letter q that I can write about. Well, I had a weird encounter today and feel like it's good to share it.

I went to the movies on Saturday, in the afternoon. I finally went to see Batman vs. Superman. I felt like I was the last person in my circle of friends and colleagues who hadn't seen it. Well, judging from the turnout, I didn't feel bad.

To me, the best spot in the theatre is in the centre, in the second row from the walkway in front on the section. The reason is that I can rest my legs on the metal horizontal bar. I have long legs and I like to stretch.

I bought a bag of popcorn and a drink. I had asked for a cardboard tray, being the klutz that I can be. I put the cardboard on the seat to my right, which was resting on the armrest on the right. I also placed my purse on the seat.

While the trailers were being shown, about seven minutes before the movie was about to begin, a family of three came over. The woman decided to sit right next to the seat that my cardboard tray and purse were. Had it not been there, I am sure that she would have sat next to me.

She looked over at me. I decided to move my tray so that she wouldn't hit it with her elbow. She went one step further and told me to put it on the other side.

"It's fine," I said, smiling.
"Pardon?" she asked.
"The tray is fine here," I said.
"Pardon?" she said again.
"It's okay," I said, saying it a bit louder.
"Why are you yelling?"
"Never mind. All is good."

First, I knew that it was a losing cause when she clearly couldn't hear me while the loud trailers are taking place. Second, I didn't understand her hangup. My moving the tray wasn't interfering with her armrest space. Third, she allegedly couldn't hear me. I needed to raise the volume of my voice, which is completely different than yelling. Fourth, after her not hearing me more than once, it became a pointless exercise to continue.

I read people pretty well. I knew that she was the type who causes trouble and wants everything her way. She came in late and was being rude disrupting my time watching the trailers.

"I was just saying that you can move it to your left," she continued.
"That's okay. I moved it over here," I explained.
"Pardon?" she said. I got fed up, but I was still polite about it.
"I wasn't being rude. It seemed like you couldn't hear me, so I talked to you louder," I said, and continued to watch whatever was left of the trailer.

She actually managed to be passive-aggressive by asking whether I had "paid" for the seat that my tray and purse were occupying. I finally decided to take the high road, and ignored that question and her. The theatre was busy, but it was barely 30% full. The only person who seemed to have taken exception for some inexplicable reason was this woman. She had her husband and probably nine-year-old son. Three people with plenty of room in a row that could easily fit twenty people is not a reason to claim to be hearing-impaired and attempt to spoil my day. With me and my purse, 25% of the row's capacity was occupied.

Well, I could tell within the first five minutes of the movie that her son was not interested in watching it. Later, she spent two minutes rattling a plastic bag, cracking shelled peanuts. After that, she spent another minute trying to open a bag of candy. Fun!

I would estimate that this family left halfway through the movie. The family had grown to five people who just picked up and left. Good riddance!

So, my original thought was correct about this woman. She was trouble and I should have ignored her from the start. At least I eventually did ignore her.

Pardon? I think she needs to get her hearing, her head, and her personality examined. She needs help.

P is for pet and paddle

I recently got a betta fish as a pet. I last had a one a decade ago.

I was partially inspired to get a pet fish when I saw a beautiful Kickstarter project where the aquarium uses aquaponics to filter the water and even grow plants! It is a beautiful environment for my fish, who seemed so sad cooped up in a small see-through plastic container at the pet store.

Last Sunday, my friend and I went to the pet store. I picked out a male halfmoon betta. He is blue with a bit of red. He's pretty.

The aquarium system came with betta pellet food. I tried feeding it to my fish and he didn't want any of it. I was concerned that he didn't want to eat anything.

I then remembered that my first pet liked freeze-dried bloodworms. I went to my local pet store and bought a jar. I came back home, fed him one, and he loved it. He is a foodie!

I told my guy about my new pet fish. He's happy that I have a pet again. I have named him Bubbles, because he seems incredibly fascinated by the bubbles that he encounters on the water's surface. He also like making bubbles himself.

He reminds me of my guy, except that the latter likes blowing kisses at me from afar. Both are sweet fellas, though.

As for going down vacation memory lane, I had brought my leather paddle. I took it out of my suitcase one day with my guy standing next to me. He took it from me and gave my backside several hard swats. He laughed. He is truly my Mr. Meanie.

That's okay. I took the paddle back and gave him a couple of swats. It was my guy's first time with it. He didn't complain. He didn't whine. He didn't say that he didn't like it. He's doing well and continues to still be interested in being spanked.

O is for oh no, oh yes, and orgasm

This post is a hodgepodge of thoughts and recent experiences.

A couple of Saturdays ago, my guy and I had to catch our flight out of Seattle. My guy took 1.5 hours to get out of bed. This part is the oh-no repetitive thought that was in my head.

I kept nudging him, poking him, telling him to wake up, and more. Eventually, he did get up. My guy pleasuring me and making me reach orgasm perhaps helped.

It was tight getting breakfast in, checking out of the hotel, walking over to the parking lot to get our respective rental cars, trying to find a gas station to fill up, and returning our cars. Of course, it took more time to take the shuttle from the rental place to the terminal, check in, go through security, and figure out which gate to go to.

While lining up to go through security, my guy polished off my bottled water. He was then crushing the plastic bottle with his hand as if it were a stress ball. I looked at him, giving him the stop-that-it's-annoying look. He looked sweet, as if he were a little boy who could get away with anything.

By the time we had walked up to the gate, we were boarding. Thank goodness!

We were not seated together when we flew from Seattle to Chicago. We did sit together for our final segment home. This is the oh-yes part. It was nice to hold hands, chat, kiss, and cuddle.

It was a great week together. The oh-no part is what we are experiencing these days. My guy is travelling on business for another three weeks. This week is the first and we miss each other. However, it won't be long till we're together again.

N is for numb

By numb, I mean in a good, temporary sense. I don't mean that I am numb from negative behaviours that I see my colleagues exhibit that pull me down. 

I have been sleeping better lately. I don't know if it's because work is so busy that my body insists on getting rest. I don't mind it at all.

The other morning, I woke up on my left side. I typically sleep either on my back or my right side. It was a bit of a shift -- physically.

Apparently, I had been on my left side for a while. It was so unnatural that my fingers on my left hand were asleep, too. Part of my arm also decided to partake in falling sleep.

It took nearly five minutes to get my left arm and hand back to normal. I would have been concerned if the tingling was permanent.

M is for manual, s(t)imulated stick shift

One night in Seattle, after my guy and I had come back from shopping, we cuddled for a bit. My guy was horny. The feeling was mutual.

My guy removed his pants and briefs, and let me play with his hard cock. I had a bit of fun with it.

He won't let me drive his manual transmission car. His car is his baby. I tease him about it often.

Well, since I won't be driving his manual car until he cracks, I decided to simulate driving his manual stick instead. I actually changed gears from first to sixth.

"What if your car has a seventh gear? What do I do? And, how do I reverse?" I asked him, after I had simulated driving a manual car with his erect member.
"Just jerk me off!" he said.

He's funny. We had a good evening.

The next day, my guy remarked about my driving his stick shift.

"I never knew that you could do that," he said to me, smiling.
"See, if I can drive your stick shift, I can drive your car just fine," I teased.

I enjoy teasing him. He likes when I do it, too.

L is for lying in bed, watching Fifty Shades of Grey with my guy

Vacations are wonderful. I am longing for my next vacation, but have many fond memories of my recent one. My guy had to work, but he loved coming back to the hotel to be with me. We both loved spending so much time together than we usually do.

One evening, my guy asked if we could watch Fifty Shades of Grey. He is a movie guy and knows that I like the flick.

I thought that I could access my streaming account online, but it was finicky that evening. Instead, I had the movie on my phone, so we watched it on there.

My guy is a romantic. I knew that he would dislike Christian, for he was portrayed as being cold while Ana clearly wanted to be with him. He liked Dakota Johnson's portrayal of Ana. He also got turned on.

I got to point out some of my favourite moments in the movie, which were mostly the short spanking scenes. The movie wasn't over and my guy was pleasuring me.

Before I get to that part, it was nice to be in bed together, watching a flick, and cuddling. It was perfect.

My guy did pleasure me and it was wonderful. He also spanked me hard with his hand, which was wonderful and arousing.

I then gave him a blowjob. He absolutely loved it. He didn't even have to tell me that he was going to ejaculate. I could tell and he didn't disappoint.

Needless to say, my guy liked the movie.

K is for knees

This post is a bit different. It is more an observation about my guy and a perspective that I enjoy from afar.

My guy does stretches in the morning. He has a lightweight travel mat that he brings with him.

When he finally feels like getting out of bed, he will place his mat on the floor and stretch. I like watching him.

The most appealing part to me occurs when he is on his knees and he bends forward, with his butt up in the air. It's a happy sight to see in the morning. I like thinking about going over and smacking it. I just don't want to ruin his stretching regimen.

It's aways a great start to the day when I see my guy. It's simply eye candy when I enjoy such quiet moments.

J is for jets and jetlag

My guy and I were fortunate to book the same flights to and from Seattle. We had a brief layover in both directions.

There is a three-hour time difference between Toronto and Seattle. My guy generally has a tougher time adjusting, but he seems perfectly fine adjusting when there is a small time shift. However, when he is halfway across the world, it takes him a week to get back to his normal self.

I managed to book my seat next to my guy for three out of the four flight segments. I couldn't sit next to him from Seattle to Chicago. Instead, I was in row 25 and he was in row 29.

My guy is a true gentleman. Whenever we fly, he manages to help me with my luggage and such. When we had landed in Chicago. I looked over at him, and he waved and smiled at me.

When we had landed in Toronto, we were waiting for our luggage off the carousel. There was an older woman who needed help getting her luggage off the carousel. My guy not only offered to do that, but he also went to fetch a cart and put all her luggage on it.

To my guy, there's nothing unusual about such a gesture. To me, it just shows how kind and sweet he is to everyone. It's nice to see. I am fortunate that he is my guy.

I is for in bed

The title of this blog post sounds like I have cracked open a fortune cookie and have tacked on in bed after my fortune. This post is about my guy who loves being in bed.

My guy takes a while to get out of bed. He is not a morning person.

Last week, his alarm on his phone predictably went off at 07:00. He spend ten minutes in bed, which is the time that his alarm will finally stop on its own. He then spends another ten minutes in bed before he thinks about getting up.

He is like a sweet boy when he hugs his pillow tightly. He truly does not want to get out of a warm bed. He is my sleepyhead.

One morning, his alarm went off at the expected time. He actually got out of bed and did some stretches on his mat. He then crawled back into bed. Ugh!

I also noticed that when he plays with my nipples and other of my body parts while we are both in bed, he wakes up pretty quickly.

I suppose that I should be his alarm clock more often when he has to get up for work.

H is for hard and horny

My guy was clearly hard on the flight to Seattle. Needless to say, he was horny all day.

Our flight was fine, with a short layover in Denver. We managed to grab some lunch, hold hands, and kiss during the 1.5-hour stay there.

We got to Seattle and he was sweet to grab my luggage for me. We then found the shuttle (my guy is horrible at remembering where everything is, even though he has been to this city twice and it was my first time visiting) to the car rental place, took forever to figure out what cars we wanted, and I led us to our hotel.

We checked in and went up to our room. We were waiting for our luggage to arrive. We had a gorgeous view of the waterfront and the room had a balcony. Meanwhile, my guy kissed me and gently led me to the bed.

He had me on my back with my feet on the floor. He gently lifted up my shirt, then my bra, and then sucked on my nipples. It was nice. They were hard.

Ten minutes later, the bellhop came with our luggage. After he left, my guy and I made out. It was nice.

We had a fifteen-minute period to leave our cars downstairs. We eventually made it down there. We drove to the parking lot where I parked my car. I then jumped into my guy's car and we headed out for dinner at a Thai restaurant.

Despite the long travel day, being together made the travel time disappear.

G is for good girl

I got a spanking practically every day while on vacation with my guy. I love when we are both playful while I receive one.

I was cuddling up next to my guy one evening. He started to lightly pat my backside. The intensity of each smack slowly grew until my right buttock felt a fairly sharp smack.

"You can't spank me hard. I'm a good girl," I explained.
"No, you're not. I can never call you a good girl," he noted, as he continued spanking me harder.
"Yes, I am. I am a good girl. My butt is still sore," I said.
"You can't be a good girl if you butt is achy," he explained, without missing a beat with the ongoing smacks.
"You're the only one who says that I am bad," I playfully whined.
"Of course. I know you the best as being a bad girl," he reasoned.

I crawled across his lap, with my upper body over the side of the bed. My spanking became harder as we continued to playfully chat. He pulled down my panties and pyjama bottoms, exposing my bare backside.

"You're hurting my bottom," I whined.
"Good," he remarked.
"That's not nice!" I exclaimed.
"The more that you whine, the harder and longer your spanking will be," he explained, as he continued with his hand spanking.
"But, I like to whine about how sore my butt is," I said.
"Well, you're going to have a difficult time sitting if you keep it up," he explained.

He ended up pleasuring me. I was excited and quickly reached orgasm. I then needed help getting back up, as I was so relaxed. He supported me up and we cuddled some more in bed.

I like being his bad girl. It's fun.

F is for funny bobblehead

One night last week, I was resting my head on my guy's thigh as I was holding his hard member. I had given him a handjob and had cleaned up. I have never held his erect penis while the erection slowly dies down.

My guy and I were also experimenting with our weed vapourizer for the second time. He had only one puff. I had three.

He told me the following day that I was looking at his member shrink. I then said that it looked like a bobblehead and jiggled it. It made me happy and giggle a ton. My guy thought that I looked cute and sweet.

I guess that my guy's member has a new name when it's in a restful state. It is a head, after all! I am a funny girl.

E is for ejaculation

On my guy's birthday, we had a flight out at 08:05. It was also Easter Sunday.

I am typically a morning person who is also a night owl. It's a deadly combination. I actually went to bed at 23:00 the previous evening, which was super early for me. I got up at 03:00. I couldn't go back to sleep.

My guy called me at around 05:45. I was busy scraping frost off my car's windshield. I called him back. Surprisingly, he was nearly at the office. My hotel room was a five-minute drive over.

I swung by the main doors of my office building and dropped my luggage off. I then went to park my car in the underground parking.

By the time I had locked my car and was climbing up the stairs towards the office building, my guy was there, looking at my luggage. He then turned around, saw me, and came over to hug and kiss me.

He got his luggage out of his car. We then sat in his car and cuddled. He liked my haircut and his hand dipped under my shirt. He was caressing my shoulder while kissing me.

"As soon as I saw you, I got hard," he said, in his sweet, boyish way.
"I've missed you, too."

We held hands pretty much the entire way, from the taxi ride, through security, at the gate, and on the plane. We broke up some of the hand-holding by kissing now and again.

My guy's member was exceptionally hard on the plane, to the point where he told me that it hurt. He excused himself to visit the washroom. He came back and seemed relieved.

"Did you wash your hands," I asked, joking with him.
"Yes, I did," he replied, grinning.
"Too bad those washrooms aren't big enough for two people. I would have liked to have given you some hands-on relief," I replied, smiling.

Of course, there was more fun to come later on that evening. We were just getting started.

D is for dopey

Seattle has legalized smoking cannibis, both for recreational and medicinal needs. Two Sundays ago, it was my guy's birthday. He thought it would be fun if we both gave it a try.

I will have another post about my guy's day, which was really our travel day from Toronto to Seattle. In the meantime, this post will start off with the two of us visiting three different pot places to eventually find the one that we needed.

The first one hadn't opened yet. Google Maps indicated that it was near our hotel, but its grand opening would be in April sometime when we got to the store. We then found another store a few kilometres away. The man was nice to point us to four different locations, as his store only offered weed for medicinal reasons. So, we chose the first one on the list.

My guy and I are both novice weeders. This experience was my first. My guy had tried it before in this city. He would be the one to tell me how to smoke. Yes it, I am such a goody-goody!

He chose the vaporizer and weed vial that we'd be experimenting with. It wasn't expensive. The vaporizer charges through a USB cable, so the technology part of it was up my alley.

Our hotel room has a balcony. We puffed while overlooking the waterfront. I took a couple of puffs, coughing both times. My guy took three.

My guy managed to give me a hard spanking afterwards, which was fun as we both laughed during it. I had given him a few smacks while we were being intimate. I think that he likes getting spanked, especially when I grope him beforehand.

He made me reach orgasm a couple of times. I gave my guy a handjob and he ejaculated all over my hand. It felt warm and nice.

I think that weed affects my guy more than it does me. My guy was out like a light. I felt a nice buzz, as if I had consumed a couple of beers. However, my alcohol tolerance is high. I would think that I'd need to take at least one more puff to reach the same dopey level as my guy.

The next day, my guy had a bit of a hangover. I was fine. We had both slept soundly.

I remember towards the end of the night hugging my guy closely and being thankful that I got to spend his special day with him. I told him that I loved him and that he would always be my sweetie. He reciprocated and told me that the didn't want this week to end.

We can certainly say a lot for two dopey people!

C is for coming home, among other C words

I arrived home about a couple of hours ago. It's nice to be back in my home city and country of Canada.

It has been great spending a week with my guy. We bonded a lot. I have a sore bottom.

We left by hugging each other in the parking lot at work, just before we drove our separate ways. It has been a lot of fun holding hands, groping each other, and kissing because we love each other.

It's also fun seeing just how different the weather is. It felt like summer in Seattle. We had a stop in Chicago that felt like it was Toronto. We got home and it had snowed.

It's nice being home, although I do miss all the food and fun in Seattle.

B is for bare butt

My guy has a tough time getting out of bed. He's not a morning person.

He woke up before I did this morning to stretch. He then crawled back into bed and hugged his pillow tightly.

His alarm goes off at 07:00 on weekdays.  He lets the alarm go for ten minutes before it stopped. He then spent more time in bed. 

Of course, he decided to play with my nipples, which were hard. He then wanted to play with my clit and backside, but I didn't let him. I made him chase me in bed. 

Eventually, he was on his feet, bent me over the bed, took down my shorts and panties, and fingered me until I came. He then spanked me with his hand, told me that I was his bad girl, and pulled up my panties and shorts. 

He finally woke up. I have a sore backside. All is great!

A is for awesome

I am still on vacation. Sadly, all wonderful days away from work must come to an end sometime.

Today is day 1 of the A to Z challenge. A is for awesome.

This post will be short. I just figured out that my blog post a while back made it to Chross's Spankings of the Week post. Yay! Thanks so much! The honour is wonderful.

My vacation with my guy is going well. I got my first spanking with my guy's leather belt. More details on that when I am not having so much fun. =)