I'm almost totally moved out. The office still has things like my wedding dress and some of my more obscure china. My closet has some random crap in it. I think I'll crash here tonight, because it's late, Ian isn't coming home until Monday, and there's a bed here.
I need a bed. I thought that the previous room mate was going to sell me or leave me his, but that didn't work out. It's a bummer, because I could have organized a bed if I'd known I would need to. Victor, the previous room mate, just wasted my time, apparently.
I also won't have a computer. I don't have space for a full desk and monitor and everything. I would like to get a lap top, but I don't really have the funds.
I'm so tired. I haven't been sleeping much. Last night I slept at the new place in a sleeping bag on the floor, and the zipper doesn't work. I kind of relished how pathetic it was. For a night. I kind of would like to get that bed thing taken care of. I suppose I'll make some inquiries tomorrow.
Kenny has been an invaluable resource for just kindness and attention. He lets me just envelope myself in his warmth. He's so sweet and nice, and fucks really really well. He's learning my body and it just keeps getting better and better. He's the sweetest Dom ever, he enjoys taking care of me. It's fun to call him "Daddy." It was really hot, at one point just before coming I said "Daddy?!" and he said, "Yes, baby?" It was the first time he'd ever called me that, and I absolutely loved it.
I'm really grateful Kenny is around. I would be having a lot of trouble without him. He makes me feel cared for and pretty. We had sex once on Wednesday, and three times on Thursday. We would have done four times on Thursday, but what we'd had for lunch didn't agree with him.
He's lost 40 pounds now. He's at 279. It's impressive. His cock appears to just keep getting bigger, and he's getting more and more agile when he fucks. He was on top almost entirely the other day, and really going at it. He keeps getting stronger and sexier.
His mother, who has passed away, was apparently a very difficult person. She had a disabled leg, and used a wheelchair. She was very demanding and manipulative, and Kenny was her caregiver for 20 years. Twenty years! I can't imagine. I can't fathom. Kenny coped by eating. At one point, he was about 400. He'd gotten down to 320, and kept most of it off, and now he's making a big effort to get healthier. I like to think that I've been a positive influence. I obviously never told him to do anything. He just noticed for himself that it would probably be easier to fuck my brains out if he were a bit slimmer.
The side effects of weight loss for him are really good. He no longer has to take a bunch of Ibprofen for pain in his knees, because they no longer hurt him. That's awesome!
I get the feeling that he was kind of just waiting for someone to notice him. People don't really think of Kenny as a sexual being, even though he's an amazing dancer, has a beautiful face, is smart, funny, and kind. He's so giving and so enthusiastic and I'm always underestimating how much time I'll want to spend with him. He's very special. I really hope I don't go crushing him. We've actually been dating since December, so it feels weird to count him as a rebound. He's an affair, maybe? The poly thing makes categorizing tricky. I try to think of it as a separate relationship unto itself, but things are different now.
I was telling Kenny how when he and I first started hanging out, I could picture him telling someone, "Yeah, I'm dating a girl-- but she's married." My separation changes the whole dynamic and format and things. Suddenly it's a possibility that someday I could move in with him. I wouldn't recommend it to myself for a good and long time, but the fact that that is on the table at all changes everything. It actually makes it sweeter. It makes it more exciting. He's like a legit boyfriend now. My coworkers know his name.
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