I’m lying here still. In tears.

I’m sad because it’s been so long since my Daddy has been able to touch me. Since I’ve had that release that I really need and I’m frustrated. I need to be broken. To be fucked to the point that I cry and to cum to the point I pass out. I need that mental release. To be taken to that state of pure ecstasy where I’m not even sure I’m still in my own body I’m in that much pleasure. I need to be touched. I need that contact with him. That physical connection where his skin is against mine. His scent on me. The taste of his lips. The warmth of his arms.

 
I’m so unbelievably sad that I can’t see him as much as I feel I need. Fuck I’d settle for the once a week again as anything is better than being twice so far and we are in August. I need him. I want him more than I have ever wanted any other partner before him and I’m terrified that this want is going to push him to leave me and I have to try and find a partner after him.

 
I don’t want anyone but him and yet I feel like I don’t have him anymore. I try to convince myself that it’s just distance making me worry and we have agreed that he will tell me if he thinks there is a problem, but what if I think it’s a problem? I can’t tell him how scared I am without him feeling inadequate, which is the last thing I want, but I don’t know how to connect though a text message.

I want the old us back. Where I would wake up with him in my bed and he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Where we would lie together wrapped in each other while the world went by. Where I felt safe and like I belonged. When we weren’t in pain, our bodies betraying us and I felt wanted and loved, no matter how mentally broken I felt.

I just want him. I want us.