✨weekend update✨

You guys this is just a gushy journal post about my weekend, I’m gonna write some smut once the feelings have all had time to take shape and settle, but I just wanted to be a sappy bunny and tell you how wonderfully it all went.

I’m even more in love with her than I was when it started. So I’ll start with that.

All we did all weekend was stay in bed, walk the dog, and wrestle. No joke.

Saturday it was pouring rain all day, the sound hypnotic on her steel roof. Max took the dog out when she woke up in the morning and then came back to wake me up with a warm cup of tea and her tongue on my pussy. Heaven.

We talked and fucked and talked, confessing embarrassing things from when we first started dating. Admitting to our shameful crushy fumbles. (She apparently found my “screenshot your text and send it back to the person who just asked you out” move very endearing at the start of our courtship. 😳)

We both knew early that it was for real, which is reassuring somehow. We both felt the capacity for love and goodness.

When she stepped out that afternoon to drop something at the post office I scrambled quickly into my Princess Jasmine costume and did my make up. Her face when she returned and found me riding her coffee table like a flying carpet was priceless. I dunno how this counts as her birthday present when she made me cum a dozen times while wearing it but she was so happy. And a happy boss means a happy bunny.

She’d teased that her basement, plush carpet and no furniture, was perfect for wrestling. We wrestle. Have I told you that? On our first date while smoking on the street outside of the hotel I mentioned knowing some crisis-intervention restraints for work-related purposes. She asked me to show her. Please picture me in my flirty green dress and leather jacket putting my strong diesel dyke babe into a straight arm escort on the busy downtown street and waking her a few steps before she resisted and used her muscles to pull me closer to her in spite of my leverage. We were eye to eye, arms locked, and the intensity was immediately smoking hot. “We should take this upstairs,” I smirked. And we did. And we wrestled. Just a little. But since then it’s a thing we do, playfully, in bed, here and there. Pinning each others wrists, wriggling away, feeling that resistance.

I’m going to write smut about it this week, but reader let me just say she put on a very loud playlist and we wrestled for HOURS in her basement. Hours. Real wrestling too. And please let me remind you, I was still wearing the Jasmine costume at the time. (We joked that it had 80’s wrestling caché.) Ridiculous.

When we were sweaty and grinding against each other, muscled flexed and working hard, I let her know this was *absolutely* a kink.

She was shocked. She’d never heard of lesbian wrestling or Ultimate Surrender. But this was undeniably her kink. She won 4 out of 5 rounds and I was fucking delighted. I’m scrappy and put up a good fight, and I’m a quick learner. I called her Coach and tried my best to distract her with my Princess charms. It was so much fucking fun. We laughed and squealed and fucked and fought. We were exhausted and so satisfied by the end.

The next morning as we brushed our teeth I pointed out the rug burn on my elbows and knees... “marks from our kinky weekend together...” I teased her. My vanilla babe.

You see, I think everyone’s kinky really, they just don’t have the language for it, or the understanding. She was surprised to find out that wrestling is such a popular kink. I tried to explain that feeling her strength, being overpowered, being pinned down, trying to fight back, all of it satisfied those kinky desires for me. She liked it too, I could feel it, I could see it on her beautiful face. She liked us in that space, and she was proud of me when I managed to flip her over or wriggle free from her grip. It was such a lovely dynamic. I’m still feeling so smitten over the whole thing.

We talked a lot about our dark sides too, honest about our bad habits, the things we struggle with in relationships. We speculated over what our first fight might be about. “We’re not there yet...” we both agreed. We’re both curious. How long will this honeymoon last? Either way it’s lovely. Getting to know another human, feeling known too. Feeling safe enough to be vulnerable in her arms.

As we were packing up to leave I hid a few things around her house that I know she’ll find when she’s back home. Treats, love notes and little gifts that will remind her I’m thinking of her and I love her dearly, even when I’m not there. She held my hand the whole way home, reaching across her work truck to keep me close as we chatted, telling stories about bad dates and dynamics. All week we’ve been texting too much, saturated with thoughts of each other, full of I love you’s.

“We’re you worried you’d get sick of me?” I asked with a smile.

She squeezed my hand. “Nah, I knew I wouldn’t want you to leave.”