No End in Sight

January has always been my least favorite month.

When I was a child, snow days were great. But dark, dreary, wet days were more of what I experienced. Days on end without sunshine. Darkness coming early, though every day is a tad longer.

The evening stretching on until I watch the clock, wondering if it is time to go to bed yet. Only to see fifteen minutes or just a half hour has passed.

It’s day fifteen into orgasm denial. My skin is too tight. I cannot sit still. My mind wanders when I’m writing or reading. I’ve cleaned, paced, washed and folded clothes, and exercised. Did I mention I’ve paced. I’m sitting long enough to write this post, and I’ll be up to walk off this nervous energy.

It’s still hours before I make supper. Longer till bedtime.

Master isn’t in town this weekend. I cannot say which is worse, him giving me the weekend off or working my body every day until I’m so close to the edge, I can’t think straight.

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