Mac is home safe and there is a slight distance between us. Mac says He feels it too but it is ok, He can wait me out, because I always come back to Him. I am not quite sure it is just me. I feel distance from Him too, but I am never sure if it is a reaction to how I am acting, or if I am reacting to Him. It can quickly spiral like that. The trick is to stop it, to stop reacting and start loving Him properly again.

When it is like this, I often wonder what the point is. What is the point of not loving Him the best I can? Isn't that like trying to be half happy? If I am going to love Him, it seems sensible to love Him with everything I have, to express it every way I can, to show Him and tell Him that I love Him and give myself to Him.

I can't figure out how to get close to Him. Of course I have to wait until He is open to it too. And as usual, when He gets back from a week away, He is a week behind in His work so He is stressed as well. There will come a time when it becomes too hard to hold it in and then we will find each other again. Trying to force it just puts us both on edge. You can't force love.

So for now we are in a nice holding pattern. We kiss lots. He holds me lots. We have sex lots. We enjoy each other but it is without the mad driven passion we feel so often. One day, when we are not looking for it, it will be there again and we will embrace it with everything we have.

Every day is still an adventure with Him.

"Sarah!"
"Mmmhmmm?"
"Fuck."
"Mmmhmmm."
"Christ. I love it when you do that. Do it again."
"Mmmmm."
"Fuck. FUCK."

I shifted a little. My knees were a little uncomfortable. Mac was sitting on the couch, His bottom on the edge of the couch, His cock and balls over the edge.

I did it again.
"FUCKING CHRIST SARAH. You are a fucking sexy bitch."
I giggled and looked up at Him.
I lifted my breasts in my hands and wrapped them around His balls so that His cock was sitting on top of my tits, pointing up towards my throat. His swollen red cock, glistening with my saliva, was sitting on my presented breasts.
"Look up at me."
I looked up at Him, innocent wide eyes over a whore's cock bruised mouth, spit glistening on my chin.
Click.
I grinned.
Click again.

He tossed His phone onto the couch beside Him.
"Can I see the pictures?"
"Later. Finish me first, girl."
I grinned again then got back to the task at mouth.

I didn't quite understand how we had gotten to this point. I had cleaned up the kitchen after the babies were in bed. I had not done it straight after dinner because I have discovered that I would rather clean up after the babies are sleeping and spend their awake time with my husband and babies then with the washing up. Mac helps me once we have had our family time and when the babies are settled for the night. We all look forward to that time. Daddy is home, dinner is done, it's our family time.

So the babies were sleeping, the cleaning up was done and I had shooed Mac out of the kitchen while I put the last things away then I went to ask Him if He would like tea.

"Tea, Babe?"
"One second." He patted His lap, which I correctly took to mean 'sit here while I listen to this boring man on the television.' I sat and snuggled into His shoulder and I smelled Him. He smelled so damn good. I couldn't help myself, I played with His hair, I kissed His cheek, I licked His neck. I bit Him. He scowled at me. I giggled. He shook His head.
"It's a good job you are so sexy or I would swat you like a fly, girl."
He kissed me. I could easily recall all of that. But how I ended up on my knees with my top and bra off and He ended up with no pants on, it follows no sensible chronological order. It just sort of ended up that way.

He came in my mouth. It didn't take much longer. The work had been done before the photos were taken so a little longer and I had Him grunting my name. He pulled me back up onto His lap and He kissed me long and hard. The type of kiss that would have made my knees buckle had I been relying on them to stand. He showed me the pictures, one surprised, one grinning, both rather hot. Two more pictures to add to those He keeps of me in a locked folder on His phone. I like that He has them when He is away, a reminder of what is waiting for Him to come home to. He likes that He has them, something to entice His memory when He is away. He locked them away while I was watching Him. Then He kissed me again.

"Yes please. I will have tea." He grinned at me and pushed me lightly off His lap.
I put my top back on and went to boil the jug.

Mac is away now. He left late Sunday night. He won't be back until Saturday morning. We haven't emailed. We haven't spoken. The country he is in is not like the ones we are used to. He is in a country which is controlled by one of the most oppressive regimes in the world. The internet is controlled by the government and they keep it slow running so unapproved video and pictures can’t be uploaded by its people. Email accounts rarely connect. Phone contact can take hours to come through. We decided to use it only in case of emergency. He will call when He gets to His first stopover through the night.

I like to think that the pictures He took have kept Him closer to me while He has been away.

I won't sleep until I get that call.

I keep having this dream, well, a day dream, a fantasy, which has ended up in my dreams. Sometimes I feel so vulnerable, so unprepared for the things life throws at me that I want to retreat into submissiveness, I want to use it to shield me from things. I can't of course. I have to face the world like every grown up living in the world. I have to stand up to it, smack it when it needs smacking, yell at it when it needs yelling at and clean up after it when it makes a mess. I can't hide from my responsibilities or from the bad bits of life.

I can however, find security and strength within submissive fantasies. I can use them to remind me that when life throws up on me, I can handle it.

So this dream, day dream, fantasy I have when things get tough is very sweet and very simple. It involves me being beneath Mac, on my tummy, pressed between the mattress and His stomach. He is loving me, His cock is inside me, my muscles squeezing on it while He kisses and licks and bites my shoulders. I can barely breathe beneath Him, I know that from experience, but it never seems to matter. What matters is pleasing Him, pleasuring Him while He has me cocooned, protected by His body. I think about it during the day when I need to calm myself and it sneaks into my dreams at night when I have had a particularly rough day.

And when the day leaves me feeling completely out of control, when I reach the end of what I think I can deal with, He will put me on my knees and tell me to stay there quietly until He has time to calm me. He knows this act alone is calming enough, but He will use me as well, because He enjoys using me. I enjoy Him using me. Pleasing Him restores the balance for me.

It doesn't have to be complicated. It doesn't have to be rough or painful. It doesn't even really have to be sex. All it has to be is submissive.

I guess in a way, my submissiveness is the blanket I use to keep myself sane.

It works well, for me.

The other day Mac and I were in bed together, talking about making out. He was asking me about high school and if I had ever tossed anyone off during school hours and I told Him that I had not, that during school time we were restricted to making out in the basement with other couples around. He asked what I meant when I said making out. I said it was high school making out, kissing with tongue, lots of tongue, feeling over clothes with occasionally his hand finding its way under my shirt but usually not. Oh, and of course, he would press his hard on into my pubic bone and grind while we kissed. We would go back to class flushed and frustrated but euphoric. There was something exceptionally exciting about not being able to finish the deed.

Mac said that it sounded pretty much like dancing when He was in high school. He said that girl's always pretend not to notice, but their pubic bone was always right there, ready to be pressed against. I laughed. I can't see how a girl wouldn't notice, but I can remember pretending not to notice myself. I remember pretending not to notice lots of things when I was that age and even when I was older. I do things now that I pretend to not notice. Mac wanted to know what.

So I told Him that when He accidently gets a flash of breast, it is not an accident. Women know when they leave the house if there is a chance of them showing off boob. We also know when our panties are showing, so that is not an accident either. I have never yet seen an ugly pair of panties hanging out the back of low cut jeans. It is always a pretty lacy little thong that is meant to be seen. Of course, it doesn't necessarily mean that a woman is hitting on you when she shows you her breasts or lets you know she is wearing hot panties, sometimes she just likes men around her to know she is a sexual feminine being and sometimes she wants something else from you and is not too into equality to use sex to get it.

Mac frowned at me.

"So when the women at work press their breasts against my arm while leaning in from behind me, its not an accident?"
"Nope." I said. "Women know where their breasts are pressing."
"You would be amazed how many girls lean over my shoulder with their tits touching my arm and they all adopt the same expression...innocence, wide eyed interest in my screen or whatever, none of them ever smirk as if to say...'so is that filling your fucking balls, hunk?"
I grinned. "I would not be surprised at all." I was thinking about the innocent wide eyed interest not smirking thing.
He grinned. "I guess then, when a woman bends over and flashes her tits, other women that see just roll their eyes?"
"Pretty much." I thought for a moment. "Hey!" I said. "Which girls are pressing their breasts against You? I need to know. Give me names!"
He blinked at me all innocent like. "What?"
I laughed and climbed over Him so I could rub my breasts against Him. He growled.
"I know what you want when you do it, girl." He said.
"Oh?" It was my turn to blink innocently. "What would that be?"
He threw me onto my back and showed me.

Being able to finish the deed is exceptionally exciting too.