I’m sitting on the couch under a blanket, knitting quietly and watching a movie. From the outside I probably look like a Nana.

And yet all I can smell is my wet kitty. I’ve been wet All. Damn. Day. Truthfully I’ve been wet for two weeks now. The same Tumblr post has been circling my brain all day – @yeslillylillylove’s “He thinks I’m prettier when I’m dumb” post.

I miss cumming. It hasn’t even been that long – it’s Sunday night now. I came for 7 straight minutes (a reward for 7 days of denial) Monday night. All day I’ve been fighting waves of lust and need that wash over me, leaving me gripping the counter (because I’m at work, and horny as hell) to try and stop the impending orgasm.

And yet I don’t want to cum. I love what denial and edging does to me. I love feeling awake and alert all day instead of tired and sleepy. Because I feel more alert I screw up less, I work on autopilot less, I’m more aware of the world around me. Sometimes. Usually. Except for the times when I wander around in a subspace bubble, observing but not participating. Those times are fun though, I like the mindfuck feeling of hitting subspace at work.

In short, I love denial. I couldn’t do it permanently, that idea is still too extreme for now. It will be interesting to see how that changes over the months to come, given how quickly I’ve come to love denial itself. But right now I’m having the time of my life.

A lovely description of denial! Thanks Ellie.

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