So, was I a good girl last night?

Let me put it this way, once I heard number 8, numbers 9 and 10 were not far behind.

I am a people pleaser. Sometimes, this exhausts me. I sometimes forget to look after myself while I am looking after everyone else around me. More often than not I will answer questions the way I believe people want me to answer them, especially when I am put on the spot. I think that's why I enjoy this blog so much. I am able to think things through before I ever say a word.

There are times I feel so disconnected from myself, it's almost like I am standing outside of me watching me trying to gauge what it is people want to hear. 'No, you didn't hurt me when you called me stupid.' 'Of course I wasn't upset to hear you had been talking about me behind my back.' 'Thank you for telling me my relationship with Mac is going to fall apart very soon. I appreciate you undermining my confidence in the guise of 'helping' me.' I cringe while I watch myself do this and sometimes I scream inside, wanting to say things the way they are, wanting to say 'yes, that hurt and I respect you less for thinking that' but instead I nod and understand and allow people to get away with treating me wrong.

Mac will not allow it. He will either ask for an apology on my behalf or suggest that I ask for one. I blush and I stammer and I struggle to find the words and usually it ends up with me almost apologising for being hurt. But I do it and I stick to it and I feel better about myself for it.

This always comes as rather a shock to my long time friends who are used to me accepting whatever they say about me or to me. Sometimes I think they are surprised to learn that I actually have feelings that can be hurt. Some of them get angry at being challenged and I have lost a friend or two because I would no longer lie down while I was being kicked.

I know I should question what these people consider friendship with their behaviour towards me, but I still mourned the loss of each of these friends, because I valued them, even if they didn't value me. I find myself wondering if they had as happy a Christmas as I did. I really hope they did.

When Mac asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I told Him that as long as I leaked His semen all day I would be a very happy girl. Of course He bought me other things, but as soon as W/we woke Christmas morning my first gift was His orgasm and teeth marks on my breasts. He told me that He was going to use me again before lunch, but as W/we would be at my parent's I very much doubted it could be done.

There is something extremely decadent about sex at your parent's house, no matter how old you are so I was almost coming by the time He sat me on the bathroom vanity and entered me. I sank my teeth into His shoulder so that no one would hear me moan and He held me as I shuddered and my cunt contracted on Him. As my orgasm subsided His approached and He pulled my head back by my hair so that He could kiss me. He grunted and growled into my mouth as His cock spilt into me and I giggled in delight. Even though I had washed my face in an effort to cool it, I was still blushing brightly as W/we sat down to eat. No one commented but I am sure they all suspected. Mac tells me it is just my guilty mind at work. Still I have to say, Christmas lunch was so much more delicious because I could feel His hot semen leak from me and wet my panties.

And He tells me He can hardly wait for Easter.

That's at His parent's house.