Who's Your Daddy?
A messy and sometimes erotic blog update.
Trigger warning: This blog contains content that is sexual and graphic in nature. My writing may not be everyone’s cup of tea. But if its, drink up.
I wish I had more executive functioning and more time. I had dreams of getting so much writing done while I was in Louisville but instead, I vacationed. Shame on me. I didn’t give myself too much grief about it. I had a good time and it was pretty relaxing and I had a lot of fun. So I told myself I would get caught up yesterday. Instead, I fucked around and played with pastels on a Substack Live. Then my car fucked up and that ended up being a whole ordeal. I also went grocery store shopping and to buy some frames for my art I bought in Kentucky. They ended up being all wrong which I will explain later. Now I have a choice to use the frames I bought for something else or take them back. I am not going to be making as much money after my next paycheck, once I transfer, and I have to start saving money. I should be saving everything. I should be cancelling all my streaming and delivery services. I type this while contemplating ordering some breakfast.
As of right now, while I am writing this update, Max and I are fighting, again. We have had several fights since last week and it seems like we cannot get on a good level ground right now. My therapist said I would feel raw and reactive this week after my session, and that may be part of it. But Max is also doing a lot of things to push my buttons and just being Max.
But let me go back to Wednesday, when we didn’t fight, mostly.
After my therapy session Wednesday morning, I met up with a friend, who I will call Willow. Willow’s husband is an apprentice in their local and he was competing in the regional competition. While they were at work, we went about our day. We ate lunch at Burger Boy. I had a burger and fries and she had chili cheese fries. Right before I paid my tab, I realized we could purchase their burger and fry seasoning, so that’s what I did. One for me, one for my dad as a souvenir.
While we ate, I purchased tickets for Willow and I for the Derby Museum. There was only ticket left for the horse stables tour so we didn’t get to do it. I will say the price of the ticket is not worth it without that viewing experience, but it was still an interesting experience. That is, if you can ignore all of the major issues with horse-racing for a few hours to learn about the history and the horses.
We did get a little tour of the track. We opted out of Millionaire’s row. I told Willow I would experience it firsthand one day. “You want your first time to be authentic”, she said. “Right”, I agreed playfully. The tour guide told us that there is a race just for the Phillies, but there have been Phillys that have participated and some that have won. It is just extremely rare. She said that instead of roses, they get a blanket of Lillies. “‘Lillies for the Phillies’ we like to say around here”. I thought for sure there would be a shirt or a sticker with that on it but the gift shop did not deliver. I did get a sticker that says “Talk Derby to me” and “Gettin’ lucky in Kentucky”.
They had popular outfits worn by people over the years at the Derby. I think this one came from Amazon.
It was probably by some famous designer, but still…seems pretty close to what me and my friend wore that year in 2017 for Halloween.
We did get to see the “museum stables” which houses a retired thoroughbred and his service miniature horse, Ari.
When we were done we ran by a store to get her husband some drinks and then we headed back to the hotel. We had a dinner we had to attend for leadership at a local BBQ restaurant called Doc Crow’s.
Max’s boss walked with us and on the way I asked if he had heard anything Monday night. “Let’s just say the walls are thin”.
“You didn’t hear a peep from him, that’s for sure. He almost had a heart attack trying not to make a sound.”
“All I know is that I didn’t hear a Thwhap and a ‘Who’s your daddy?’
“That’s because…”, I started saying, and Max turned towards me with a scared look on his face and started to say “Don’t…” but I soldiered on because I knew what he thought I was going to say. So without even missing a beat I continued, “Max doesn’t let me do that to him”. The fear visibly vanished from Max. His boss laughed and Max managed a chuckle, but I could see beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
The food was delicious. I haven’t stuffed myself like that in a long time. The bread pudding was incredible. Just not as incredible as the one that I make. Which reminded me, I had been promising Arlo I would make him a pan.
After dinner we walked to this place called “Troll Pub Under the Bridge” or I guess just The Troll Pub. We had seen it the day before and wanted to check it out. We even walked by it the day prior, to see what it was about and Max asked me to take his picture next to the troll.
We were walking there with his boss but he got a call to meet someone somewhere else and said he would meet us later. We headed down under the bridge and entered the bar. I saw a sign for the restroom and told Max I needed to go. I headed for the bathrooms and he headed towards the bar. There was a sign that said that the restrooms on that level were closed and I needed to take the elevator to the second floor. I did, and I was back at Doc Crows, the restaurant. I called Max while I was peeing. “I had to take the elevator up to go to the bathroom. Guess where I am.” He started laughing. “Well go tell everyone that is still there just to take the elevator down.”
I wasn’t going to do that. I barely know any of these people, and it didn’t seem like they had any plans to hang out with us after. So I just made my way back down to the pub. I noticed signs that said that on the upper level of the building there were living and work lofts available. The building was called Whiskey Lofts. I immediately began to fantasize about owning a work/living space in Louisville where I could come and write on the weekends. I have several of these fantasy lofts/apartments all over the United States. Savannah, New Orleans, Asheville…etc. etc. This loft was located in the old Galt House. We happen to be staying nearby at the Galt House Hotel.
After we had our drinks, we headed back to the hotel. He texted his boss to let him know we were leaving the Troll Pub. We had plans to meet up with them at the Hospitality Room to drink more, but when we got back to the room we decided we were spent from all of the food and drink. I had made a deal with him earlier in the evening that I can’t recall all of the details of. But it required that he play around with the ropes. It was getting really late and he had to work the next day, and I could not get him off his phone on which he was watching the opening night of Baseball on Netflix. I suggested that he let the game play while I showed him some of the knots that I had learned the night before.
In a huff he finally turned off his game and came over to the side of the bed and brought the rope. We started looking up videos and that frustrated him. So I said, “why don’t you think about what position you want me in, and learn the knots for that. I think you should figure out how to tie my arms to my legs so that I can’t put them down. Cause you like me to keep them up”.
He sat back down and began to look up videos, and I went to take a shower.
I laid down on the bed after and closed my eyes. He went to take a shower. I was so excited. My body was practically vibrating. When he came back I said, “I can’t wait to find out what you have in store for me with that rope.”
“What are you talking about? I couldn’t figure it out. I don’t know how to do it.” The finality in his words stung me and I started to say that is why I wanted us to practice, but I just turned over and became rigid and silent. I guess he sensed the change in my mood and walked over to the bed. A tear was streaming down my face.
“Why are you upset?”
“Because you don’t care. You won’t even try. You don’t care enough to even try.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to try. I just watched the video I watched last night again and I am going to do the wrist restraints. Sit up and face me.”
So I did. I sat on the edge of the bed and held my arms out.
He began wrapping the soft rope around my wrists carefully. I felt heat rush to my middle as I watched him work. We made eye contact at one point and his mouth fell open in a moment of vulnerability. I looked down and noticed his visible erection. When he was done working, I looked at his finished product. He had handcuffed me with the ropes and gave himself a little leash. He immediately grabbed the leash and pulled my arms behind me. The move took my breath away and I found myself being pulled close to him with his other arm. He kissed me as he held the restraints back behind me. He laid me down and moved me back on the bed. He kept my arms behind my back with one arm and grabbed the bullet. He started working the bullet first, and as he did he slowly pushed his cock into me. The sensation was almost too much and there were moments I rocked under him. He kept me steady with the restraints. Without my ability to use my hands, he leaned down and bit my right nipple, his favorite. It hurt but it felt good. He loved the way I writhed under him and he pulled the restraints back even further.
He was into this. I knew he would be, but I had no idea he would be as into it as he was. He kept focusing on that right nipple and bringing me pain. He knows he has consent to do this, but with the added restraint, he went harder. He bit, pulled, twisted. Only sometimes moving to my left breast, his least favorite. The sixth time he made a move towards ol’ Ethel, I was raw and on fire. My pussy was throbbing from his excitement and I was on the verge of cumming. But I couldn’t take it anymore. If I would have known a part of him would let go like that, I would have established safe words in advance. Instead, as his fingers met my nipple again to twist, I made a strange sound and shouted, “Safe word! Right nipple safe word!”
This made him laugh and his face lit up with a boyish joy. He happily moved on to Lucy after that - she has nerve damage and can take more of a beating - and it didn’t take me long to cum all over his cock. It felt so good.
I told him that I wanted him to cum on my face. I had been asking for this already for some time, as it had been a while since he had given me that gift, and he had not delivered. For the record, he still hasn’t.
I moved to the floor, and began to suck his cock. I was hoping to finish him like that but he decided he had other plans. He moved me back to the bed.
I thought he was going to use the lube again and go for my ass. The lube was actually quite nice and I felt it had added warmth and a sensation I had not gotten with the coconut oil. But he didn’t. My legs were shaking and I was having a hard time holding them up without my hands. When I said so, he paused and said, “I should have watched how to tie your arms to your legs so you are forced to hold them up.”
“I think I told you that. I guess there’s always next time.”
He tried to hold my legs up but after a moment, untied my restraints. Even the act of releasing me from the restraints felt amazing. I held my legs up for him, like a good girl, and he fucked me hard. “Does it feel good?” he asked, as he moved inside of me. “Fuck yes”, I said whispered back, “I don’t want this to end.”
This time when he came, he did not try and hold back his moans.
When he was done, he stood up from the bed, and I sat up.
He leaned down to pick up his underwear and then made eye contact with me.
I leaned forward and slapped the bed as hard as I could, and shouted,
“Who’s your daddy?”
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