Carpe diem

There has been so much to write, yet so little time to write it.  M and I are still going strong.  Just where we are going has yet be told, but he's still the boss nonetheless. 

There have been so many sexual encounters, too many to pick out one in particular to write about.  M and I were able to spend a lot time together over the past few months.  This is mostly due to M quitting his job, which was demanding and took up a considerable amount of his time.  It has given me time to study him, listen to him, get to know him.  I admit I study him.  It sounds strange, a bit creepy to admit that but that is just the way I am.  I rarely ask questions, but I do research.  I listen to his stories about his life, his past, and hold onto them.  I prefer listening much more than talking, and I could listen to M talk forever. 

I've been thinking about my life a lot lately.  About changes I've made, changes I still need to make, mistakes I have made, and all the great things I've learned simply from knowing M.  I think about how much I've grown to love M, how something grew from pure lust to an admirable love and deep respect.  It doesn't scare me to write it anymore, to see the words flash in front of me.  I've been through it all in my head, the doubts, the fears, the telling myself we can't go anywhere, love will only complicate things.  But that is what life is; complicated.

 I admit I love him, but reality has not left me.  The reality is that it's easy to be a couple, but it's much harder to be a family.  I have a family, responsibilities, a son who desperately wants a father, and to say that my life is complex and unusual does not even begin to cover it.  I'm protective over my family, not ready to let him in that part of my life.  I also think he has no real interest, no desire to move into that realm of my life, and is happy to sit on the sideline.  Of course I've never asked, it is not in me to do so, but I believe my assumption to be correct.    

 I wonder if some things are meant to last forever.  I guess I can't help but assume that eventually M and I will have to come to an end.  It makes me leave up a wall, a wall he's chipped away at, yet still remains.  I know M will always remain in my head.  He 's one of those people you will think about long after they're gone, a person that leaves an impression in your mind, as well as in your heart.   Then there is the sex.  I'm in love with M sure, but I am head over heels in love with his cock.  It pains me to think of a life without it.  I've never experienced the kind of sexual attraction I have with M.  It worries me that I may never find it again.  I guess the only thing left for me to do is to enjoy it while I still have it, and make the time to write about it. 

   

Feed Me

A hungry, insatiable girl needs to be fed. Her starving body constantly calls for her lover to fulfill her. She waits for her lover to quiet the screams of her hunger, to heal the ache that bestows her, the ache that disrupts her thoughts, the ache that leaves her wet and restless, the ache that leaves her deeply unsatisfied. This aching hunger is never extinguished until her lover rewards her. Until he rewards her with his praise, with his body, with his come. This hunger preys upon her, engulfs her, leaves her wanting more. This hunger is created by her lover, giving him the power to take total control of her body and her mind.   

This starving girl needs the voice of her lover to command her, to love her, to fuck her, to feed her, to break her. Fed not just by his cock, but by his words, by his presence, by his love.

Fed with his words. Words delivered by his voice that feeds her whispers. Whispering words that disrupt her, that move her, that leave her speechless. Words that draw her further into him, leaving her with the echoes of him. 

Fed by his presence. His presence electrifies her, propelling her lustful hunger as she waits for him to satisfy her. The sight of him intimidates her, reveals her, arouses her. The scent of him lingering with her, making his presence unforgettably real.

Fed by his love. A love that frightens her, that is untamed. Love she fights against, love unwanted yet splendid. A love brought upon by lust, selfish lust. A love revealed the only way a toy could reveal it.   

Fed by his cock. His cock fills her, spreads her, releases her unto him as his. His beautiful toy, his lover to let in or shut out. His cock leaving the taste of him on her lips, the seed of him in her cunt. His cock reminds her what she craves, igniting the hunger once again.

Feed me until I am broken. Feed me so that the words come pouring from me. Feed me so that you can see me, a fuckable toy in love with her fuckable boss. A toy with a dire need to feed you, a dire need to satisfy your hunger, a dire need to belong only to you.                     

TMI Tuesday

Love, Hate, and Guilty Secrets. We never mind telling people about things we love or hate, but how about the things we love, but would hate for anyone to find out about?

Well, it’s time to free yourself of that fear!

For each of the categories below, list one thing you love, one that you hate, and then, take a deep breath and tell us something you hate to admit you love.

Really.
 
You’ll feel better for it!

1. Food
I love sushi and just about anything Italian.
I hate guacamole and cheap hot dogs.
My guilty secret is I never eat raw vegetables.

2. Apparel
I love sundresses and really comfy sweat pants.
I hate those really loose maternity style shirts girls are wearing these days.  I call them "tit curtain" shirts because it looks like their tits are hiding behind curtains.
My guilty secret is I have a pair of Ugg boots and I LOVE them!

3. Books
I love a book called "Sally Hemings," and just about anything by Nora Roberts.
I hate the Sex and the City book.  Liked the show but it is a horrible book. 
My guilty secret is I indulge myself by sometimes reading really cheesy and very predictable 'Danielle Steel' type romance novels.

4. Songs
I love a song called "Parabola" by Tool.
I hate the song "Crazy Bitch," and Buckcherry for that matter. 
My guilty secret is I like that new song by Usher.  I can't believe I like an Usher song.

5. Movie
I love Gone with the Wind and Sling Blade.
I hate Pretty Woman.
My guilty secret is I have enjoyed some Pauly Shore movies.

6. TV Show
I love Family Guy, Dexter, and Californication.
I hate Family Matters.  Its the only one that comes to mind, I don't watch many TV shows.
My guilty secret is I love Leave it to Beaver.

7. Celebrity Crush
I love John Stamos.
I hate Rob Schneider.
My guilty secret is I have a crush on Crispin Glover.

8. Music Group
I love Tool.
I hate Nickleback and Seether.
My guilty secret is I love pop.  Michael Jackson, Rihanna, Madonna, Britney Spears......

9. Sports Team
I love ?  (Sorry, I don't follow any sports!)
I hate watching any sport on TV.  Football and golf are especially horrific to watch though.
My guilty secret is I have never been to a pro or college sports game and I never want to!

Bonus:
Sex Position or Sex Act or fetish
I love having great sexual chemistry with M.  There are just too many sex acts I love with M to name just one!
 
I hate when guys slobber all over your vagina when performing oral sex.  For me, wetter is NOT better.

My guilty secret is I get aroused by the idea of M forcing me to wear my leash and collar in public.

Wait.....I haven't written about the leash and collar yet.  Story for another time.......

Four Letter Words

Love and Fear.  The two seem to go hand in hand with my emotions these days.  I have been in love with M for some time now, and it scares me.  It makes me feel guilty, uneasy, splendid.  Previous to M, I have only loved two men before, and loving my husband was incredibly easy.  I never had to guess with my husband, his actions and words made it perfectly clear where his heart was.  With M it is much more complicated.  I know he cares, but just how much he cares is not clear.

I told M that I loved him at the worst possible time.  It's not that it was dishonest, it was what I thinking and feeling at the time.  I just wish I had told him at a time when his penis was not inserted in any orifice of my body.  I feel like I cheapened it, like the words would have held more value if I hadn't of screamed it while being fucked in the ass.  I wanted M to feel the words, I wanted to watch his expression after I told him, to kiss him and tell him how dear he is to me.  Instead I feel as though I butchered it, and now I'm left feeling like an ass.  Pun intended.

At first I didn't tell M I loved him for insanely stupid and insecure reasons. Reasons like;

"What if he doesn't feel the same way?"
"What if it scares him off?"
"Is it too soon to tell him?"
"I don't really know him THAT well...."

And of course the worst case scenario......"What if he doesn't say it back!!???!"

Yeah, I'm an idiot.  I got over all of these 'problems' and came to realize a few things.  Whether or not M loves me will not change the fact that I love him.  That is where I am whether he is there with me or not. 

If telling him I love him seriously scares him away, then I'm better off.  I can't live my life based on what will make a man disappear.  If someone is ready to move on, they will move on despite the best of efforts.  Would it hurt?  Yes. Would I miss him?  Yes.  Would my life go on?  Yes.  It would be better to clear the air now than to be more devastated later on. 

Is it too soon?  I don't know but it still doesn't change how I feel.  Yes, there are still a lot of things about M that I don't know.  There are still things about my husband that I learn about even though we were together for years.  I know that just because you don't know every detail about someones life doesn't mean you can't love them.

As for the worst case scenario, I'm over that too.  At first this was probably my biggest concern. What if I tell him I love him and then there is just uncomfortable awkward silence?  Would I burst into tears, or feel hurt and angry?  Would I just feel like a fool for telling him I loved him only for him to stare at me blankly?  Of course there was the potential for any of these things to happen but I knew I was being irrational.

 I know I am just looking for excuses not to tell him and all of that thinking led to a new fear.....what if I tell him I love him and he just says it back to spare my feelings?  Would he think that he has to tell me he loves me so that I will continue to see him?  Now I'm beginning to think that a silent answer may be the best answer.  I want to tell him, I want him to feel the words, I want to make him think about me.  I don't want, "I love you too," echoed back to me.  I want his sincerity, not his on the spot answer.  I want him to reflect.  A smile, a kiss, a caress, some kind of acknowledgement of the words would be more than enough for me. 

I realize the selfishness of these thoughts.  I understand my reluctance, but I know that I am holding onto the words out of fear.  Even if M isn't in love with me and never loves me it doesn't change my heart.  One of the greatest gifts we can give is love.  I wanted to give M that gift because he deserves it.  What he chooses to do with it is on him.  Holding onto the words isn't making me wise, it's eating me alive.  I don't love him simply because I want his love in return, I love him because I just do.

But things still aren't settled.  This brain has produced a new set of problems.  Now I worry that he will think I'm expecting things to change.  I worry that he will think I am looking for a replacement for my husband, that I will demand more of him, demand things he cannot give.  I worry that he won't take me seriously, that he will just think of me as a silly girl who is too emotionally unstable to know she's in love.  What if he's right?  What if I just think I'm in love but it's a mistake? What if I am just confused?   I worry that he will think of me as just a slut, incapable of really loving anyone. Would it be foolish to invest in someone like me?  Is that what he thinks of me?  That I am extremely fuckable but unlovable?

I still have not mustered up the courage to say it.  It is hard for me to write it, even harder to publish this.  But this is part of the reason why I have this blog, to relieve myself of the things I can't say, the things I can't make sense of. 

Still in the Air

I intended to continue on from the previous post.  I was going to go into great detail about what happened between M and I.  It's nothing tragic, I will summarize but I can't go into great detail.  It is embarrassing for me, and for some reason it seems too personal to write about.

M and I had anal sex that night.  We had incredible sex beforehand, and M whispered to me that he wanted all of me.  How could I refuse?  I was unsure, scared, I didn't know what to expect.  I didn't know if I was ready for anal sex.  I had anal sex with my husband quite a few times but this was different.

I will admit that I'm weird about anal sex.  Sure I can have casual sex, but I can't have casual anal sex.  I just couldn't let a guy I had casual feelings for insert his cock into my ass.  I don't know why exactly, I just couldn't.  For me, anal sex is a greatly submissive and emotional experience.  It takes a great deal of trust for me to even consider doing it.  I worried that M and I would view the experience in totally different ways.  I guess I wanted him to treasure it and not just take it.  This led to me over thinking, which led to me freaking out about the whole thing.   

I remember feeling pulled into two different directions.  Part of me didn't want to do it.  I knew it would hurt, but I couldn't help being insanely aroused at the idea.  My desire to submit to M was overwhelmingly strong.  I didn't want to deny him, and I knew he wanted it all.

I remember trembling with fear.  M whispered soothing words into my ear, my guard slowly crumbled away.  Eventually and slowly we got there.  It hurt initially, it was hard for me to allow those first several inches in.  He fucked my ass gently, rubbing my clitoris and fingering me while inside my ass.  He taunted me, telling me I was such a slut to let him finger my pussy while he fucked my ass.  I was soaking wet.  It was starting to feel good, and I hated that it had begun to feel good.  I was ashamed of the sensations.  M always said that I would like anal sex with him, and I wanted to prove him wrong.

Then it happened.  M was fucking my ass, and I said it.  I said "I love you," while M was in mid stroke. With his cock buried deep inside my ass is when I decide to tell him I love him.  This is the time I chose to make such an announcement.  Really???  I was caught up in the moment, the emotions took over everything and I think I sort of screamed it.  I know I said it more than once, and I'm not too sure how many times I said it.  As soon I finished screaming it I remember feeling like a total idiot.  I don't remember if M said anything afterwards.  I think he may have moaned or grunted after I said it, but he could of said, "There are pigs on the roof," and it wouldn't have registered at that moment. 

Shortly after my announcement M comes inside my ass.  I remember the relief I felt that my outburst did not screw with him enough to make him unable to orgasm.  I'm pretty sure I was overreacting but I felt really embarrassed.  I was trembling badly, and I was eager to leave.  It wasn't that I was really embarrassed for him to know that I am in love with him, I just felt awkward about it.  I didn't know if I should say anything or what he would take the words to mean.  I figured he would interpret the words to mean, "I love your cock," more than, "I love you," because of the circumstances in which I said it.  I felt foolish and as though I ruined the moment. 

It always feels like I am saying the wrong things.  I'll write more on this later........

 

In the Air Tonight

I've got that feeling. The feeling that something is going to change. I'm not sure what, and I'm not sure how, but I can sense that things will no longer be exactly how they once were.

I am really hoping to see M on this particular night, its been a few days since I saw him and I've had a real craving for him the last few days. M pays me a visit while I'm at work, and I always enjoy that. I know M worries that he takes time from me when he visits me at work, but I don't feel that way. I like it because it gives us a chance to talk, and his visits always seems to build some sexual tension which I know will be taken care of later. I also don't feel bad if I need to leave M for a little bit, I know he can amuse himself without my presence.

On this particular night, M seems a bit drunk when he comes in. He's in a sillier mood than usual which always seems to happen when he's been drinking. M denies being drunk, and perhaps he isn't, but he is being really playful.   

There comes a time during the night when M asks me what I think attracts him to me . The question is a bit off the radar and I don't know how to answer it. It seems too broad of a question, as by now I hope there are multiple things about me that hold his interest and not just one thing. I also didn't think to ask him if he means physical or mental attributes, or both. I also don't really like having serious conversations at work so I usually avoid them as I try to keep the mood "light" in a strip club. In the hope that M will just tell me the answer, I give him a silly reply. It's a reply that I regret, a reply that didn't attempt to answer his question seriously. I wish I would have just said, "I don't know M, but I would love to know." That answer would have at least been honest.

I turn the tables and ask him the same question. He gives a silly response as well and tells me to find my own game, not steal his. Fair enough I think. I tell him he doesn't need to wonder about what attracts me, he already knows. He doesn't deny it but he never tells me why he is attracted to me. Then he makes a reference to an actress but doesn't tell me what the reference has to do with me or with what we are discussing. He then tells me that he doesn't want to tell me [what attracts him to me] because it might go away. This bothers me because it implied that there is this one 'thing' holding his attention to me and if weren't for this 'thing' I wouldn't be nearly as interesting. Now on top of wondering what this 'thing' is, I also have to worry about it disappearing and M following along with it. I know I am probably reading WAY too much into this but I hate it when something is brought up and then not explained. I just wonder why he mentioned anything at all.

I know there is much more to his side of the story than this, and I do feel that M genuinely cares about me. On what level he cares for me I really don't know, but I couldn't do the things I do with him if I felt that he didn't care. This is just an honest account of how I felt at the time.
My annoyance with M reached an all time high, and I don't know why it bothered me as much as it did. I told him I was annoyed and he said something to the effect of, "I don't care you are going to choke on my cock anyway." I don't think M meant it to sound demeaning (I also didn't remember that I had sent him a text earlier that day about choking on his cock) but it registered wrong with me. I felt belittled, disposable, and deemed unworthy of knowing even basic information about how M feels about me while being reduced to a wet hole for his pleasure. My first instinct is to tell him to go fuck himself and get dressed and go home. I'm glad I just remained silent so I could think about why I was having such a strong response to this conversation. If we had been having this conversation a few months ago, it wouldn't have gotten under my skin. 
I know that I've been on edge the last few days, and I also know that there is something I have wanted to get off my chest myself but I have been too chicken shit to do so. I drop the matter, and after awhile anger and annoyance disappear. 

Off topic for a sec, but I've noticed some appearances of bitchiness towards M over the last few weeks. I feel like I snapped at him once via text message when I knew he was trying be helpful. I also made a snide comment about a former fling of his. I don't why I did it, I genuinely like her (we weren't buddies but I've spoken with her and I worked with her several times) yet I insulted her looks and weight, then teased him a bit for having sex with her. While it's true that I do not find her to be beautiful, she is in no way horrible looking and I can understand her appeal. She is bubbly, and seems to be a fun person to be around. I always liked her energy and she was always very nice to me. She also had a good sense of humor, a nice smile, and I always liked the sound of her voice even if she did talk a wee bit too much at times. She had good qualities yet I insulted her and him. An average/cute/interesting person will always trump a beautiful/sexy/boring person. At least for me. She was interesting. I know she wanted more than he was willing to give at the time but perhaps she was a great fuck as well. I had no business bringing her up and I was behaving like a jealous asshole, which is not me at all. I've been a jerk to folks lately and it's misdirected anger.

The night comes to a close and M tells me to go get changed. I do love when he flexes his dom muscles a little bit. I get changed and go to M's house. I hurry and don't want to waste a single minute. He's surprised by my quick arrival and we embrace in the kitchen. It doesn't take long before M takes me to his bedroom. That is where things change with M forever, and a new beginning emerges.

I am the former writer of "Playing with Fire," and this is my new location.  I have decided to start 'fresh' and all new posts will be here.  I will be shutting down my old blog completely pretty soon.  Enjoy!