broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

Sunday morning.

I never thought motherhood was going to be easy or a free ride, no I knew it would be hard as hell at times. But for me it’s been great, for the most part. I love my little girls, they are one of the best things I’ve done with my life. But what nobody warned me about is just how exhausting they can be. It feels like I have been running on empty for years not days. It would seem they are both teething, so are grumpy and snarky in the day time. But at night , or should I say the early am they turn into insomniacs , who seem to think their feet are really funny and need to chat to mummy about it, and when they have told my about their toes, tiny, chubby ankles and how they can fit their sisters toes in their mouths, they doze off , with soft snores. But when I lay them in their cots to sleep and turn to leave them, one farts, waking themselves up, shrieking with fright, and waking their sister up. So it’s back to cuddles, chats and calming them down. Not the sort of all nighter I had in mind.

It’s after one of our early am chats that maîtser found me asleep on a bean bag this morning. I love the fact that I have rules to follow about everything, but if my daughters need me they can be over looked. But as well as that I love that maîtser and I have CNC in place, and not just the sexy kind. No I mean the loving kind. The kind that means I get woken up with a kiss, taken down stairs and made to eat what ever is but in front of me. Then hustled in to a hot shower, then a warm fluffy towel, then clean clothes and then tucked in to bed , with a stuffie and orders to sleep. And because I’m his good girl, and mildly exhausted , I have no problem with that at all.

But when the sexy side of our CNC decides I have slept and rested for long enough, and he gathers me up in to his arms, roughly foundling my breast, and biting down hard on my neck. Well not only do I know it’s time to wake up, but I’m going to get used in the most delightful way. When his hand travel down over my rib cage, the curve of my hip, dipping under the waist band of my yoga pants and roughly caressing them down my legs, with my panties, bunching at my knees. I tense and pretend to struggle a little , so his hand will go round my throat and he growls in my ear to behave, to hold still, that I’m his and he will do as he wants with me, it leaves my with no doubt he loves me.

When his other hand plunges in to My folds, and pulls my leg up and back over his, I know what’s coming, his marking me as his, making sure I know damned well that I’m his. Biting my neck, he pulls his hand from me, and I feel him unbuckle his belt and push open the fly. Then his hand is guiding his cock inside me, and he starts fucking me . It’s deliciously harsh, fast and hard. It’s not the beautiful love making, but it’s what I need. It is pure feeling, want and need.

Gently he flips me on to my tummy, pulling my bum and hips up, still fucking me. His hands move to the small of back and my neck, pushing it firmly in to pillow. He fucks me so fiercely , that it is nearly painful. Then his hand come round and under me, find my clit with his thumb , circling it with a determined ferocity that is startling. His close I can feel, and I know that if I struggle and whimper a little , he will love what he is doing to me even more, so I do. That is all it takes , and he looses his control , and so do I. Cumming so hard I think I must of blacked out a little.

Collapsing on top of me , he pulls himself from me , flopping on to his side, panting . Leaving me laying there , stunned and used. I get a hard swat to my arse and in commanding tone he says ‘up , I want feeding’ and with that he is up and off downstairs . I hurriedly collect myself , pulling my clothes back on and smoothing down my hair. Not bothering to clean myself up, loving the feeling of how utterly used and marked his made me feel. I run down stair to carry on taking care of his needs , the way he has done for me.

And why do I do this, cos I love, trust and adore him , as he does me.

Pixie x

From the heart, musings of pixie heart., socail

Things I don’t believe in….

Things I don’t believe in….

Ok, ok I know I seem to be doing down beat blog posts this week, I know ! But this is less down beat than the tittle would have you think, ok? It kind of came to me this morning, laying in bed after a rather lovely morning fuck. Maîtser was humming one of ‘are songs’, Dream by Gabriel , and as I snuggled in close and started drifting back to sleep and my own dreams, I was hit by thoughts of my nana. I have been thinking a lot about her recently, with my own mother coming to the end of her own life. I was really close to my nana, and she taught me so, so ,so many things. Like how to clean house, how to take care of babies and how cook for 14 people without breaking a sweat. But I also remember all her ‘funny’ ways of looking at the world. To an outsider looking in, she was a very simple creature. A country girl, a wife, a mother and housewife. But she also was a feminist, peace protester and loved learning. The 3 things I remember her saying the most often were, always have a dream , nobody is perfect, and I just want them (her family) to be happy. This got me thinking about how she always refused to believe anything was perfect, and then on to the things I don’t believe in. So I thought I would write about them.

Perfection and paragons – ok so this kind of a stolen one from my nana (sorry nana!). But I really don’t believe anyone or anything is perfect, I just don’t. Growing up in a very strict Orthodox (Russian) / Catholic household we learned the bible forwards, backwards, upside down and standing on are heads. So I knew the words ‘he, who has not sinned cast the first stone’ really well. My nana used that to stop arguments, and my daddy coming down to hard on us, when we did something wrong. But my belief goes a little deeper than the bible . I also think that it is impossible for things to be perfect. They may seem it or look it, but if you dig a little deeper the is always a flaw or an imperfection. I also think that some of the most beautiful things and people in the world have imperfections. In fact , those imperfections , make them so much more wondrous. Don’t get me wrong I always aim for as good as humanly is possible, but by excepting things having flaws, it save heaps of time and a hole lot of worry.

Miracles – now this is going to sound mad, coming from someone who thought she could not have children, who had non identical twins girls. But the reason I don’t believe they were a Miracle, is simply the fact that non identical twin girl do happen. Mine are not a one off, the are a fair few around. I also don’t think people ending up millionaires from winning the lottery isn’t a miracle, for the same reason. I also hate, more than words , when people say to me, ‘oh it’s a miracle you turned out so well” or “ it’s a miracle your still alive” . Everything I have or have gotten in my life has either come from a lot of hard work, or a great deal of hardship and loss. I have the great fortune to of inherited, a pretty large amount of money, when I was younger. But I only have that due to losing my god mother to breast cancer. I have had 3 really good jobs and I am respected in the fields I have worked in. But again I worked really hard to get there.

Respect your elders and betters – No, no, no! this is just not true. I believe that you should respect everyone, without exception. But people can lose that respect, and telling me I need to respect them, just because they are older or in a ‘better’ position than me. oh and while we are the subject of respect I completely disagree with the idea that respect needs to be earnt. Bull squirt! Respect should be given to everyone freely without exception. But as I said, I also believe that respect can be lost, and it can be lost very easily, and then it has to be earnt back.

Sorry is the hardest word to say – Again to me this is Bull squirt! Sorry is really easy to say. What is hard , is saying sorry and really meaning it from the bottom of heart, or that you were wrong, when you are wrong. My ex said sorry every time he beat me or sexually abused me, was he sorry no. sorries that are hollow and meaningless are in fact an insult to the person receiving them, or at least they are to me.

Swearing show how unintelligent people – Well then Mastier is stupid! (No his not, I’m not saying that maitsier) . So many super clever people I know swear like dockside navy. Steven Hawkins swore. Swearing is actually good for you. it’s a great way to relieve stress and realise happy endorphins .(ok can I may of made that part up)

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger- again, wrong on so many levels. Not wanting to make things about me, but things that have nearly killed me (yes I mean kill me!) have in-fact had the apiarist effect. Physical health stuff has left me with arthritis, lung damage and poor hearing. My ex beat so badly that I have had 6 operations to fix what he broke. Sexual assault and rape left me so frightened and depressed that I tried to take my own life. It also gave me ptsd, extreme anxiety attacks and full of triggers. But all this has left me with a need to slowly rebuild myself. It taught me to be open, caring and forgiving , as well as making me pretty mentally tough and determined to live. So I guess it is a-least a little true.

So that is what I don’t believe in, but I do believe in loads too ! So to close I will leave you with my grandads and mr Walt Disney’s saying “you gotta have a dream to make a dream come true”

Hugs,

Pixie

Dreams, by Gabriel

Masturbation Monday, musings of pixie heart., socail, Uncategorized

Caught in the act – Part 2.

Second part to Caught be the act… (part 1)

My eyes lock with Conner’s for a couple of seconds before I can shake myself out of my daydream. realising I’m nearly naked in front of my house mate, with a boob out and my hand in my panties, I immediately blush from head to toe. Picking up the Tv remote, I fling at his head. Sitting up straight, I make a bolt for the safety of my bedroom. Shouting “get out Conner “as I go. Not stopping till I reach my room and the door is closed and locked behind me.
Then the is gentle knocking at the door and Conner’s voice say “Come on Jo, we need to talk about this. I get in my bed, hiding under the covers, holding a pillow over my head trying to block out the tapping at my door and Conner’s pleading for me to come out and talk to him. “Jo don’t be a twit, come on let’s just talk about it! I sit up, with a humph. “please just Go away Conner’ I get out, through the shame filled tears that have started full.
After he finally leaves, I creep out and turn the tv off, grabbing some snacks and then decided to hide in m bedroom for the rest of the weekend, in case he comes back wanting to ‘talk’ Saturday pass with me only leaving my room only to pee or get food and drink. Sunday pass the same, with the add extra of a very quick shower, cos I was staring to smell. Sometime after 11pm I wake up with a growling stomach and raging thirst. I slowly open my bedroom door and peek out to see if the is any sign of Conner. Then I creep down the hall, past his door and in to the kitchen, glad to of made it and glad his not back from his trip.
Then just as I round the corner in to the lounge, I walk straight in to the solid wall of naked muscle that is Conner’s chest. Smacking in to it, I quickly step back with a slight wobble, that Conner corrects with his strong arms gripping my forearms. I look up to say thanks and he can let go now. Only to be told to shush and listen.
“Jo it’s totally naturel you know, everyone does it. “He says in a calm steady tone.
“what You have been caught pleasuring yourself on the sofa by your house mate have you” I shoot back at him” my mortification complete.
“well no, but then I always go some place privet to pleasure myself” he says with a smirk on his handsome face. “But then I’ve never thought about setting up camp on the sofa and just going at it”
His words make me blush, as my head is filled with pics of sat on the sofa, naked and stroking his cock, till he comes. I giggle and let out a sigh. “so, we good now?” he asked with a warm smile on his face.
“I guess so, but I feel at a disadvantage here. I mean you’ve seen my boobs and ….” I get out before he cuts me off before I can finish.
I saw one really nice boob” he say’s adding “What do you want me to do to even it up Jo, whip my dick out and start wanking in the kitchen?” he says with a tone full of humour, but now all I can think about is how much I want to see his cock. I meet his eyes with a shy nerves smile, blushing from head to toe. “Is that it Jo you want to see my Cock?” he asks
Blushing even harder, if that is possible, I croak out a “Yeah, I really want to see Your Dick”
Laughing and shaking his head, he says “fine, but once this is over, we are going back to normal ok? Grabbing my hand in his and dragging to his bed room he casually adds “I’m Going to need a little inspiration though”

 

Masturbation Monday.

Masturbation-Monday-badge-1

From the heart, musings of pixie heart., socail, Uncategorized

Pixie's Prompt – my love language .

Take the love language test , write done you result, is it true? Explain. max 300 words.

My results are:

10 Words of Affirmation
7 Acts of Service
6 Physical Touch
6 Quality Time
1 Receiving Gifts

So this was actually not that surprising . I’m not big on receiving gift , although I do get given lots as rewards for being a good girl. I love my cuddlies and spending time with my partners. The acts of service part well I don’t agree with that as I would much prefer to be the one doing the act of service, I think I’m just hard weird that way. The words of affirmation well yeah! no shocker there. I / We have none for ages that I turn to goo after a partner tells me they are proud of me , or stop and listen to me or tell me I’m doing a good job. But it is also that being told I’m loved and that I’m wanted is a sure-fire way to make me feel calmer and smiley. So on the whole I think it’s true except the act of service part, as I really don’t like it when people have to feel they need to do stuff for me. but the rest is pretty on point. quite funnily Kitten got nearly the same as me , Babe got a really high score in quality time and Little bears highest for physical touch. The Boss Man got 11 for acts of service and 1 for receiving gift, so I think it shows that we really are well suited!

See you tomorrow kinkies!

Hugs,

Pixie x

 

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Uncategorized

Pixie’s Prompt – three questions, 300 words.

Pixie’s Prompt – three questions, 300 words.
Answer the 3 questions in 300 words or less, but giving reasoned answer.

1) An important person in your life: My Great Aunty May. Simply because she is an amazing woman. Strong minded, open, and clever. She has taught me some many things about being who I am. She is a feisty lady, who is farce and brave, even when she’s not. But the thing I love about her the most is the fact she has been there every step of the way of my recovery. From hospital, to coming home, to remarrying and becoming a mum, she ha been there. Oh, and she can tell the boss man what to do!

2) A thing your life has in excess: Love, my life is full of love. Whether that is giving love, being loved, or feeling love. Some many different types of love. For friends, lovers, family, or my babies. I never thought it was possible to feel this much love and I’m a very blessed lady to have this amount of love in my life.

 

3) How you procrastinate: Well I don’t really! No, I do, but I also must have a lot of structure in my days, or I feel very stressed and like I’m just waiting time. That would then make me panicky and anxious and no one wants that. I guess I do like Pinterest and twitter quite a lot. I also enjoy stripping down to my panties and a t-shirt, turning up the music and dancing round the kitchen. Also, a big fan of taking long baths and naps. But then I am also happy to spend the day writing or to clean for a few hours. For me life is about balance and priorities.

See i can write something in under 300 words!

Hugs,

Pixie

family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Uncategorized

New year, Better me!

New year, Better me!
Well 2017 is gone and I find myself in a reflective mood. For a lot of people, I know 2017 was not the best of year. With loss, illness, big ass storms and Donny-j. For me it was full of lows and highs. It was the year my daddy got sicker, my mother was diagnosed with cancer, I lost friends and family and my depression and anxiety decided to kick me in the butt. But it was also a year of great personal growth for me. I found my fit as a wife, blogger, and feminist. But by fair the best thing of 2017 was becoming a mother to my beautiful twin girls. I know a lot more to life that being a mum, but when you have thought for many years that it is something you’re not going to get to do. Well when you do, it blows your mind. I never knew I could love something so deeply and fiercely as I do them.
I have seen loads of people posting their new year resolutions, but you won’t be seeing any from me. We don’t make them, as maîtriser thinks it away of setting yourself for an unnecessary fail. What we do is sit down and make a list of targets and goals we want to work towards and plan how we can achieve them. it’s something we do every 3 months and we cover pretty much every aspect of are lives. Even maîtriser does it and will let us set goals for him! We sat down on Friday last week and did are lists. This is where I admit that I love the whole planning side of this. I get to get all my gel pens and stickers out. It’s really good fun!
Some of my goal for the next 3 months are: Loose the last of the baby weight and 15lbs extra, run my dogs at crufts, attend eroticon, pitch some ideas at other blogs, do my muck run training, more swimming lessons and get my new and improved blog up and running!
Maîtriser has also sat down with my and we have set some goals for my blog. Such as post a min of 3 times a week, keeping up to date with emails and upping the number of followers to my blog. Lol one of my friends got me a bloggers journal and a diary that is designed for people who have autism, that have been amazing. They are fun, clear, easy to use and don’t feel like they are shouting at me. So, yay!

I have also decided that I want really work on my English. Not just writing, but spelling, grammar, punctuation and understanding. This came about after several nasty comments about my spelling and grammar. I’m dyslexic and have Anxious ADD, so that makes learning and understanding really flipping tough at times. adding to this I grow up speaking a mix of Irish Gaelic and Russian you can see why English is something I have ongoing struggles with it! But I have Bob my English tutor tailoring lessons for help with this. Also, Sir Beasty is stepping in to help with editing my work, so it’s a case of bring it on!

So, as I wave good bye to 2017, I’m hitting the ground running in 2018, so bring it 2018!

Hugs,

Pixie x