He plays me well

It didn’t matter that I had not contacted him, I simply messaged and said I needed him and he came.  I could have pretended to be engaging and while I was slightly flirtatious, I certainly did not go through any sort of prolonged attempt to engage in banter. I needed two shots of vodka before he arrived because once my initial bravado wore off, I found myself suddenly nervous. He messaged me when he was 10 minutes away and when he arrived, I gave him the grand tour while we drank a glass of wine, as it had been at least 2 years since he had been to my home.

He kissed me of course, after he came inside and the door closed behind him as his hard body pressed against my softer one. The vodka had warmed my blood and it gave me the strength to stand when my knees would have buckled as his firm lips pressed against mine and his full beard scratched against my face. When he hugged me to him, arms encircling me, I felt the familiar surging lust take my breath away, so that I whimpered up into his mouth as he claimed me. I could feel his body tense in automatic response and he instantly pulled me harder against him. His jaw, just that much tighter and when I felt the throb of his awakening hardness against my stomach, I moaned and pulled away before, hands sliding down his chest before things got out of control; before I was out of control.

A few deep and fortifying breaths as I turned from him, seeing the fire in his eyes, knowing he wanted me as much as I needed him and knowing he was letting me get my bearings. We laughed and caught up, as we went through the house, finishing the bottle of Chardonnay before ending up back in the kitchen. Even resisting the temptation of staying in the master bedroom. As I reached across the island to grab the empty bottle and turned to the recycling, he pulled me against his chest and started to massage my shoulders. He kissed the soft indentations and kissed along the top of my shoulder and neckline to behind my ear.

“You have goosebumps”. The deep timber of his voice did nothing to subside them. If anything,  all it did was intensify the sensitivity I was experiencing and made my nipples tingle, engorge and lengthen so that they hardened even more than they were. His hands were running across my skin, bringing deep sighs from me and I rested the back of my head on his chest, closing my eyes as he cupped my breasts through my silk sun dress, his rough thumb brushing over the hard centres, hidden beneath my clothes.

It had been so long since he had touched me and yet all it took was moments for my body to remember and to be brought to life underneath his knowing hands. He plays me like a master musician. He literally could simply pick me up and write a masterpiece on my flesh, using sexual satiation as his written work and his hard male flesh as the instrument he uses on me to craft his music with and I am the vessel which is attuned to him and he plays so expertly. His tempo and cadence is perfectly matched for the seasoned  piece that I am.  I require an expert craftsman who has no hesitation and he knows how to use me perfectly and together the music is spectacular.

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power of touch

if he simply touched me, i would explode like the fluttering cascade of seeds from the head of a blown dandelion, scattering across the brilliant backdrop of an azure summer sky with the heady scent of mock orange and heavy lavender carrying me to unknown and fertile fields where i would slowly flutter into awareness once again

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letter to the universe

you have spoken to me a million times through  hundreds of voices, clearly thinking I’ve the inability to understand your voice and heed your calling. knowing me as you do, you understand why i’ve stepped away from where i was going and into the anonymity i needed. words are not simple to me, nor are they trite and casual. to me they are the  gravity that holds me to the world. for me, to have others criticize or condemn, or measure them and find them lacking, especially if they are unqualified or worse, uneducated and hiding behind the toxic glow of a screen and feel they can say what they will and scathe my crafted paragraphs with their vomited vowels which make no sense and aren’t even poetic in their delivery; it would make me sad. soul sad. i could learn from critique and would welcome it; i would suckle voraciously until the contributor would need to physically remove me like a mother does an infant with an index finger to the latch between the pursed mouth and areola, before being rewarded with a wide mouthed and greedy grin. yes, universe. i’ve gotten your message. i know who i am and what i was born to do, just as you know why the timing was not right on why i was not doing it.

and now it is.

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lessons taught by bad apples

he doesn’t know he broke my heart, as I was nothing but a casual fling that he simply sought to conquer then toss away as casually as the discarded bones a viking warrior might have ripped from the succulent fat thigh of a well seasoned and roasted fowl; seared and clearly ready to be consumed, waiting and dripping over an open fire, the searing hiss and tantalizing scent of fresh meat, drawing his attention in the first place. contacting him to advise him of the misadventure, was pointless as his use of me ended, the moment he spent his seed and it dried upon my thighs and his mind moved from sexual release, control and dominion and back into things and people that mattered in the world i was not part of. i had been dismissed,  used and effectively broken by a gamble of all in, which ultimately failed because i trusted someone who didn’t deserve it.

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cleavage at summer weddings

he wanted me. his fierce stare had not broken for several moments; not since I had sat down at the table and joined them 10 minutes ago.  his eyes traced over the the swell of each breast, tracing them like a child’s pencil might press hard upon the letter M in grade school. eyes pausing as they reached the deep valley between them and eye brows leaping, before lowering into a fierce glower again as they continued up the slope of the other side. licking his lips and swallowing, that’s when he started to squint. eyes darting back and forth across the creamy expanse of my breasts, as they pushed forward over the top of my light green floral sundress.

a light summer breeze picked up and caught a napkin at the table,  tossing it to the ground at my feet and so i leaned down to pick it up. the movement, pulled down the front of my dress just a modicum more, exposing the fullness to his eager eyes and bringing me just that much closer to him. the moment was too much. the tension and frustration which had been building between us, exploded with a suddenness. screaming out in frustration and joy; forcefully struggling out of his mothers arms, he flung himself face first into my cleavage, as she barely held onto his flailing legs.

chubby little hands clutching fistfuls of material, hair and flesh as his little face routed, while he squealed in childish glee as he motor boated my breasts, wet, open little mouth, slobbering all over my creamy skin as he blew forcefully on my skin, in between squeals of happiness, bringing attention from everyone around us. His horrified mother tried pulling him back as I laughingly cradled him to my chest telling her to let him go and that it was fine, he was fine; as took him to my own lap while the child glorified over the mounds of my breasts, occasionally looking up at my face to grin widely showing 2 prominent bottom teeth poking through tender gums, before burying his face once again into my full and soft bussom, as the entire table burst into raucous laughter and commentary over a wee boy who clearly had fine taste in women’s breasts.

 

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He demands I say Yes

I hear the harsh, soft whisper of your voice, saying my name in the rough, low gravel  of male arousal, thickened with desire and through clenched jaw, asking me, telling me, that you’re going to cum inside of me. Asking me if you can. You need to. Urgently saying my name, first as a question, then in exclamation demanding I respond if not verbally then physically, as your fingertips bite deep into my shoulders, pulling me downwards and against the thrusting upheaval of your forceful and shortening strokes, as the tension in your body becomes unbearable for both of us.

The painful press of your sharp whiskers, rasp from my cheek down my neck as you bury your face into the fragrant cloud of my long and tangled hair. I can feel the indentation of your teeth against my collar bone, as you press them without biting. Soft lips against my salty skin. Your back arching in corded muscles underneath my gliding hands; the width of your shoulders dwarfing mine as you impale me into obscurity beneath you.  Using the weight of your broad chest to pin mine even as your thrusts try and lift me outside of the steel cage of your powerful arms.

Your head suddenly lifts. Glaring inches from my face and into my eyes, with ferocity you demand I say it. “SAY IT!” Your body can feel my Violent response to your absolute sexual dominion over mine, long before you hear the words, and it responds immediately. I can see you glance at the single tear escaping the corner of my eye before mine squeeze shut and my back arches as my clenching  pussy seizes around your pistoning cock flesh, making it almost impossible for you to move, and I feel your head back against my neck as we both cry out in the tortured release that comes with overwhelming sexual response and finally the long sought release of well pleasured bodies. finally you hear the broken, shuddering word you’ve forced from swollen well kissed lips; wracked and wrapped in softly pleading, heaving sobs against your ear.

Did I want him to cum inside of me?   “Yes”.

Posted in Affair, cum, erotica, horny, lover, lust, masterbation, Sex | Tagged , , , , , , | 6 Comments

well hello again

i’ve been missing for a while, haven’t i? let’s start with the obvious. i’m fine. i wasn’t and now i am. i didn’t have time to write when i was really dealing with getting better, feeling better, changing lifestyle and going from one Dr appointment to another. i must say, after all of that, i look fantastic…lol…i’ve had to change to follow as close to a basically a vegan keto diet as possible. i am not strict, because i enjoy life far too much to ever remove some things from my life (like feta cheese on Greek salad), so moderation is in play.  but wow, talk about health benefits. i’ve never felt better in my life. my skin is glowing. like GLOWING. young girls at check out counters comment on it, they flip when they hear my age…lol…

of course, there has been a massive regression with spouse. he was not and is not there to help me when i needed it. i did not expect him to be and so that really didn’t bother me other than twice when it was like he was actively trying to sabotage me. i was swamped with work, needed help, hadn’t eaten in like 36 hours, hadn’t even bought groceries, so there was nothing for me to actually eat in the house; i asked him to go pick up something specific (i asked for the Afgan salad (its a cabbage, parsley, onion, tomato mix with garlic sauce and a jalepeneo sauce ) at the place we get the chicken shwarmas) and he brought home the exact opposite of what i asked for, it was a Afghanistan chicken shwarma – absolutely delicious, but i haven’t eaten meat or bread in 6 months.  it was an impossible ‘mistake’ to have make when all he had to do is repeat what i said verbatim.

he just hasn’t noticed i have been vegan….for 6 months…. he did it for attention and to create drama and to prove he could control me by making me angry. and to punish me for working. and it worked. i was crying in frustration and he was self satisfied and smirking afterwards as he was walking away and that’s when i understood his little games all these years had nothing to do with ‘misunderstandings’ but purposeful actions. i was ‘hangry’  almost 2 days no food and i couldn’t leave my desk because of client emergencies and i was on the phone. i disconnected the call. i got in the car. i went to the strip mall. i ate. i sat there for an hour then came back. I lost a client, lost $1500. he looked nervous. he knew i was angry. but you know when you move past angry to ‘no fucks were given?’  i was there.

he has not touched me. we do not speak. we are in a quasi hostile environment. i am fine unless he pretends things are fine and then i flip. do not pretend things are normal and things are all happy because if you fake that shit in front of people, i will call you out now and he knows it. i’ve done it. and now he’s less likely to do it because i am done done. we went to a friends on new years. it was the first time everyone had seen me in 5 months. everyone kissed at the stroke of midnight, yet he made no attempt to even cross the room in my direction. why do i want him to kiss me on new years even in public when he hasn’t kissed me or hugged me in 2+ years? no thank you. no one even remarked or noticed. they are used to us being in a room, but not being ‘together’.

i’m lonely. and i was stupid. i met someone 2 weeks ago who i fell for quickly because it had been a million years since i had any interest in or wanted to like or be with a man. intense talking, sharing, opening up and exposing your life, soul and heart, reciprocation, connection and then silence. it made me realize 2 things: i’m vulnerable and that i need someone. three actually. it also made me realize that i trust too quickly. in spite of all the crap i’ve gone through i still believe in people. it makes me feel like an idiot. i’m not sure ‘how’ i’m going to vet someone new into my life or in what aspect. or even when. but i know it has to happen for me to be sane and to stay married.

i honestly have no idea how single people ‘date’. the rules of engagement are complex and not what they used to be now that we are accessing social media and swiping right and can get the rush of endorphins to see who wants us or is interested in us, in seconds. there are so many damaged people out there. all wondering why they can’t find anyone when they are the issue. it makes me sad.

someone like me is dying for a man who is sensual, sexual, demanding and physical.  a man who wants to devour me and include me in all aspects of his life.  have me on hand for every moment so that he can kiss the breathe from me, press me against a wall, or against my back, hold my hand, dance with me,  press me against his side and feel my softness melt into his hands, know I am his. HIS. completely, because i want to be. and will demand he spend every free moment of his sexual awareness thinking about ways i can or have pleased him and how it’s his life goal to make me incapable of standing unless helped or speaking when spoken to. and all i want is a man who wants me. it wells tears in my eyes with the need i have to be wanted physically and mentally.

men want my body all the time. but i need someone who will want ‘me’, my mind. without it, i can’t share myself with them, because it matters to me. what a conundrum, huh? a sensual, sexual woman, built to please and pleasure a man, who is regretfully best sexually satiated by a partner inside a monogamous relationship with emotional connections and can not engage in sexual activities with men simply for the sake of pleasure?

 

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vente venting

you are beneath me in every way and i feel nothing but contempt for you. this is not how a wife should feel towards a husband. day after day, you perform little ways to undermine me. you forget the things i’ve just asked you to do, while conveniently remembering the things which don’t impact me. funny how it’s always me who gets shafted. everything that you could do,  simple little things, that would cost you nothing, like leaving a light on, or moving a pot from a high shelf, you don’t do.

i have to ask for everything, then you question why i’m asking for it. and i have to justify it and ask again, then raise my voice, before you finally circle around it, become defensive, making me frustrated, so you win, or i have to do it myself and you become all angry and pissy that i asked you and now all of a sudden and for no apparent reason, i am angry. wow. you exhaust me. every day. mentally you just, exhaust me. i wake up, wishing i hadn’t. by 10am i wish i could go to bed and just sleep the entire day. i dread the idea of you coming home. knowing you’ll arrive, smirk and ask in a childish sing song voice, how my day was, turning away as you say it, because you aren’t actually asking and you don’t really care, which is why you’ve never waited to hear the answer.

things like this morning make me realize just how petty and inconsiderate you are. it took me a while to shovel most of the driveway this morning, before one of the kids came out and finished,  after you cleared your car off and dumped all the snow between the cars and drove off. of course you didn’t get up early to shovel the driveway before you left. i asked you to start the snowblower for me and you wouldn’t. you had to get to work and didn’t have time and i was going to make you late.

“I” was going to make “YOU” late.

because i asked you to start a snowblower. because you left your phone at work yesterday, which has an alarm on it. and you didn’t set your clock alarm which i bought you as a back up. and i got up an hour early because of the snowstorm but you chose to stay in bed and i was going to be damned to do it myself and if you didn’t want to get out of bed, then fuck you, i worked instead. of course, i could have left the snow until you got home, but you knew i couldn’t as we had contractors coming and it had to be cleared before they got here. and you chose to leave it for me and you refused to even start the snowblower to make my life easier. because you are a childish asshole and why I feel nothing but contempt for you.

you’re one of those men who will never grow up and nothing is ever you’re fault and you’ll never take personal accountability for anything you ever do. you’ve been so damaged by your lack of maternal relationship that you can’t ever have anything real with any woman and one day you’ll die alone after disappointing anyone stupid enough to get involved without you after i’m gone. this marriage is lasting until after your bitch of a mother dies just so that hateful woman will go to her grave knowing i outlasted her. the only thing you’re good for is half the pension i’ll eventually get, once the kids move out and I can finally divorce you.

 

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sexual celibacy

my husband will not talk to me about our marriage or lack of sexual contact and so on every opportunity which avails me, i comment that i have nothing to say to him because he fails to communicate to me on topics which are important to me. i refuse to let the scab heal. and let me be absolutely clear. i am at a place where i where i was so hurt and angry that he undid the last few years of progress and threw everything back to where it was 10 years ago and made things infinitely worse.

this constant aggravation, keeping reminding him of his failures, the steady barrage of reminders of everything he does wrong, clearly is doing nothing to keep our relationship off his radar. it’s doing nothing to keep things neutral. it’s doing everything to inflame the situation and push things further towards ‘reasons’ why he shouldn’t do anything to try to fix anything anyway. i’m done being supportive and understanding when he fails me. done being accepting letting things slide when he makes conscious choices to hurt me. or letting it go so i can simply live my life under his radar because i had a lover on the side and i didn’t want him to notice me anyway.

i’m alone. i’ve been alone for a long time. because i’ve been trying to work on this stupid marriage i’ve had no lover which means i’ve had no physical, emotional or mental support system because i certainly don’t have any of those things with my husband. i never have. and that’s the issue. i’ve been. not we’ve been. he has no interest in working on this marriage. i’ve been on a last ditch, desperate attempt on trying to guide him and teach him; show him and explain to him on what i need. simple basic things. primarily communication and sexual contact. he is combative and argumentative. he is confrontational and worse he purposefully sabotages and that is what is unforgivable and pisses me off the most.

my husband is celibate. i share a bed with him. he is does not get erections in that bed or elsewhere that I have felt or seen, progressively lessening over a period of 10-15 years until the last 5 years where sexual contact has occurred after  perhaps 3 times a year and lasted seconds. He would touch me for perhaps 3-5 minutes to gain arousal for himself. i demanded he get cialis. he did. and refused to use it. then i demanded he use toys on me first and give me an orgasm before getting himself off, and so he stopped using me for those brief moments because apparently my demands, were simply just too much to continue with as he acts like he did me the great favour by complying when he did.

i refuse to fight about it anymore. you either like having sex with someone or you don’t. he clearly doesn’t. though he did use me occasionally to get himself off simply for convenience, i would assume. just like i let him because i was desperate for human touch. i know the exact dates we’ve had sex for years as i track it in an app. i had to as he was gas lighting me and i thought i was going crazy until i started writing about it and understood that the man had issues and it wasn’t ‘me’ it was ‘him’.  in 7 months, we had sex once, and that was 4 months ago. and to be honest? i’m pretty sure i’m done this time for good.

he’s made all the choices about the complete lack of sex in our relationship all these years and i guess my only choice is to actually say no on those rare rare occasions he wants the few seconds inside of my body. and that’s the decision i’ve made. to say no. for the first time in my life, i’m wearing a slip to bed to stay covered. i’m undressing in another room. the biggest change and the one i had not anticipated, is that mentally because of the last time he hurt me emotionally, i seemed to have completely shut down from him. it’s not an effort and i’m not working at it. it truly appears to be gone.

i’m not even sad it’s gone. there isn’t even regret it’s gone. it’s like waiting for dark to change to dawn and in a moment of distraction it happened and then it’s simply changed and different. the only thing that is not changed is that he does not see i have changed this time. he assumes things will go back as they always have. he doesn’t understand that there are some things that once you break you can never fix as they change the course of the entire relationship. that’s what he did the last time. and after 30 years, i’ve finally understood that it’s not reasonable to try and force sex onto anyone.

my husband has as much right to be happy with being celibate in a relationship as i do with having a sexual relationship. unfortunately, he won’t negotiate on the matter and we had kids together and that means i choose to stay married to him until those kids move out so i see as much of them as possible. because life is short and my relationship with my children means more than a sexual one with someone I will just be meeting. i truly and honestly require a stable and honest, loving, emotionally supportive and demanding sexual lover.

the only problem with that, is i have zero motivation or desire to put the work into finding one because in part, because of the last round of emotional spousal traumas, combined with medical issues and scares i had, i have become sexually withdrawn from myself for the first time in my life. i know it’s a defence mechanism. protecting myself from taking on more than i am able. i do not like feeling vulnerable or out of control. and i have cared for men who have hurt me. and so my body seems to have shut down in an effort to prevent it from potentially occurring again. Interesting if you think about it.

on a sidenote. i can’t imagine living without the color sexuality brings into your life. it adds flavour and inflection. brings cadence and gives texture to words. so much of how we write and interact with each other is because of sexual tension and acknowledgement and awareness of each other. without it, we are barren. neutral. boring and flavourless. we’re not even childlike which contains burst of energy and vibrant vitality. lack of sexual functioning in another wise healthy adult is sad.

 

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asexual spouse

i’ve not felt sexual attraction towards anyone in so long that it’s starting to become somewhat of a curiosity to me. to say it’s an anomaly, is an understatement, being the sexual creature that i a generally am. or was. but i truly didn’t care. and still continue to not care. isn’t that a horrific thing to say? to admit? i’ve stopped looking at men. stopped like an alcoholic stops going into pubs to eat lunch. i avoid them because they make me betray the inertia which is my marital life of celibacy. and i can not want what i do not have daily access to; a man who wants to touch me with passionate greed. i feel disassociated from my body in a way i’ve never been and while i can’t say i enjoy it, i also recognize it is serving a very real purpose right now.

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