In Which BG Tames the Lizard

(OK, "tames" might be too strong… it's not like the inner reptile has become completely domesticated. But it is back to sunning quietly on a rock, which is all I can ask, really.)

As I said, I hadn't shared my inner turmoil over his lack of jealousy. That would be just… well, silly. If the issue were something he had done or said, something he could actually control, that might be a different story. But you don't rail at someone for being the type of person they are. (Goodness, I'd have no friends at all if that were the case…!) No, you decide for yourself if you can handle the trait or not, and then respond appropriately. 

I did plan to discuss it with him at some point but I was waiting until I could achieve a comfortable, drama-free position on the whole situation.

The thing I always forget about this man?

      He is both intuitive in general and, more specifically, he understands me quite well. 

BG has a knack for instinctively knowing when I'm nearing the end of some tether or other and what he can to do to guide me back up the rope - all without me having to say a word. 

(Maybe I shouldn't be so amazed by this skill, but my experience with men has been that they generally have trouble seeing the world from outside their own framework. This isn't a right or wrong, it just means there's a lot more explaining that has to go on… and I hate having to explain myself. I'm much more comfortable interacting with someone who can get at least partway to my mindset all by himself.) 

But that's a tangent for another day.

Back to our story...

The time for Scene of the Week arrived and I'd calmed down enough that I was no longer in flight mode -- a bit of fragile uncertainty around the edges still, but nothing I couldn't ignore. 

I'm ready! Send me in, coach! 

Which he did, but not before kissing me legless. Then he moved on to strokes and praise, patience and dominance. Finally, he broke out the body part inventory. You know, the one that usually consists of a catechism of ownership…

"Whose ____ is this?" 

"Yours, sir" 

(only correct answer, no matter what the blank)

But this time, there were no questions...

Instead, I got declarative statements.

"This mouth wrapped around my cock?… is MINE.

These tits I'm mangling? … Mine.

That ass? That pussy? … Mine."

The distinction is small… but the difference it made was huge.

Claimed, valued, cared for…

The inner reptile gave a little sigh and settled right down.

A Very Tired Inner Reptile

Dominant as Lizard-Whisperer…

Who knew?!?