Crazy Driver

A few months ago I composed a post which spoke about an evening in which I wanted sex, but my husband was tired and worn out from work. I thought about that post last night, because I wanted sex, but he was tired (this doesn’t happen often).

It made me think. I have a crazy sex drive. Insane, actually. I often wonder why. Is it age? It’s not D/s, because it began before, so it it our closeness? Is it physical? I don’t know.

I do know that sex trumps most everything for me. Sleep, chores, sickness (my own), television. I honestly can’t think of anything that I’d rather do given the opportunity. When we don’t or we can’t, I honestly feel a loss. Not just a physical yearning, but an emotional loss. Can I call it mourning?

When I wrote about it a few months ago, I said that I didn’t say anything to make him feel bad, I simply snuggled him to sleep. Last night, I was a little pouty as juvenile as that sounds. We joked about it, but I was actually sad. I don’t ever want to feel like I’m pushing; it’s a fine balance.

Am I crazy?

I Know the Answer

Last night, as my husband and I lay in bed, we talked about his appointment earlier in the day. He was joking with me about how worried I looked and it snowballed into laughing and joking about other things. We were tired and a little giddy, so we ended up laughing until we couldn’t catch our breath as we snuggled and rolled around on the bed.

When we calmed, my husband, in all the seriousness he could muster, showed me how aroused he was, simply from seeing me laugh. This man derives that much joy in my happiness. I went from fits of laughter to tears of joy in an instant.

Remember when I asked if it was possible to keep falling more in love?

I know the answer.

I Am Here

My husband is my hero. He got a shot today to help him move and walk and manage his pain. The thing is, he is really used to this and doesn’t seem bothered. I never really let it bother me much before, I accepted it as a part of our lives. Why does it hurt so much now? I don’t know, but it does. More than ever.

I know I worry about him, about how he feels inside about his health. How he worries about his mobility and ability to take care of us in he future. How he weighs his choices in what he does with his body. He hides his worry well, but I see it. I feel it. It’s hitting hard right now. Before, I think I thought he needed me to be strong, to not get emotional about it, to help him be strong. Maybe that was partly true. Maybe it was the easy way for me to deal with it all.

Now, I think I’m really internalizing the breadth of what he goes through – I saw it and felt it before, but it was easier to pretend and hope he was going to be okay. We’d talk sometimes, but he doesn’t like to dwell on it. He still doesn’t, but his feelings are so much more evident to me now and he’s more outwardly honest about them. And, no matter how strong and positive we are, they are heavy sometimes, for the both of us. I’m not so sure I can be that strong anymore. I don’t feel strong. At all.

I am desperate for reassurance from him. That feels selfish.

No matter what, I am here for him. I always will be.

My Hero

I mentioned this in passing a few times, but I’m in awe of my husband. He experienced a life changing injury over 20 years ago. He deals with ongoing pain every day – he’s had over a dozen surgeries as a result of the injury, most have been very difficult. There may be a day he won’t be able to walk. Today is not that day.

Yesterday, he had an important doctor’s appointment. We’ve both been worried about the outcome for days. He was told he doesn’t need surgery just yet, but he will need it. It might not be for a year or it might be three years. There might be other surgeries on other parts in the meantime.

Here is what gets me: this man wakes up every day in pain. He works though the pain, exercises through the pain and lives life through the pain. All the while, he is determined and positive and happy and he shares that with everyone he encounters all day long. No matter what.

He is my hero.

I’m Not Allowed

I’ve mentioned recently that the concept of punishment is evolving in our home. As it does, we encounter many questions. For example, I was recently punished for forgetting to buy creamer at the store two weeks in a row. I had a spanking, it was hard and it hurt. Then, a day later, my husband realized he had forgotten to schedule a bill to be paid, so it ended up being a day late. He was visibly upset and as we laid in bed, he said to me, “I spanked you for forgetting creamer, for god’s sake. I just forgot to pay a bill. What is my punishment?” It broke my heart. I told him it was okay, we are both going to make mistakes. He said, “Not me, I’m not allowed.” I just held him and tried to reassure him that leaders make mistakes, too. I was so moved with the fact that he takes his leading so very seriously.

Honestly, this was a difficult situation. When we talked the next day, I told him that I have a need for accountability – for me. I need to know I won’t be getting away with things so I don’t ever end up being the old me again. So, I do not resent any punishment I receive. I rarely break rules, anyway. At the same time, I also do not resent that he does not get punished. He will be much harder on himself than any outside punishment could ever be. Just the fact that he wants to do the best job he can makes me ecstatic. I just want him to be happy – I want to make him happy.

**Edit: Just a few hours after I created this draft, I did something he specifically asked me not to do. I threw something away he wanted to keep and try to fix. It was lying on the counter….and I already did my spring cleaning…..and it just looked like it belonged in the trash can. Why did I throw it away? I DON’T KNOW!!! Because I’m right? No, because he probably can fix the thing. But, we bought a new one and I wanted the old, yucky one to be in the trash can. He didn’t. I honestly don’t know what the punishment will be, but I’m certain I deserve one. Mostly, I’m upset I defied and disappointed him. And, I feel like an ass.

Sub Drop?

My husband and I have had a few days alone. We spent our time being close – talking, laughing, having dinner together and coffee in the mornings, snuggling and being silly. We also had some intense sexual experiences. Yesterday morning, before we picked up the girls, we were intimate, and it was a long experience. We tried some new things, which were not only physically demanding, but were also intensely emotional.

When we finished, we talked briefly, but we had to get the ‘stuff’ put away around the house and get ready for our drive. Honestly, right after, I was sort of flat, dazed and euphoric so I was fine with not talking a lot. Then, I was energetic and ‘high’ for quite a while. Later in the day, I physically crashed. I actually went to lie down for a nap, which I never do. But, I couldn’t sleep. Then, I just felt sad, but I wasn’t sure why. My sadness kept snowballing and felt very deep and inward, like a culmination of sadnesses. I was sad for everything I could possibly be sad about, as silly as that sounds. It felt lonely. It felt insecure, like I NEEDED something, but I had no idea what.

My husband is a very gentle and caring man. But, sometimes I feel juvenile telling him when I’m emotional. It feels like a plea for attention, as if I’m going about getting attention in a negative way, even though I really am experiencing these feelings. It’s still very difficult for me to ask for help, sometimes. I don’t even know what to ask for in these emotional situations. If I don’t even know what I need, how in the hell is he supposed to? So, I stewed a little. I tried to play on the computer to get my mind off of it, but it didn’t work.

In the end, I went and told him I was sad. He asked me why and I said I didn’t know. He gave me a hug, then I went upstairs and tried to gather my thoughts. And by that I mean I hid in our bedroom for a few minutes trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me and what else I should say. He came upstairs after a short time and laid with me. We talked about being sad our alone time had ended and discussed more about our experience. He just held me while I cried, then he wrapped himself completely around me and we chatted for a while. I told him I thought it might be sub drop and he didn’t think I was crazy or needy. In fact, he was happy I talked to him and made me promise to always tell him if I need to express my feelings. We also discussed our future aftercare plans.

Both tired, we got ready for bed and when he wrapped me up again he said, “If we weren’t already married, I’d ask you to marry me.” I really mean it when I ask if it’s possible to keep falling more in love. Is it? It feels like it to me.


It strikes, once
Ouch, I think
Hot redness, delicious

It strikes again
“Feel pain,” my mind says
My body, otherwise
I writhe

It strikes again
Please more, please harder, please
Channeled, narrowing
I beg

It strikes again, and again, and again
No breath, no air, no light
Tapered, focused

Don’t talk,
Don’t move,
Just be,
Just hold me

Push the Button

Last night, I put on a sexy bra and panty set. My husband wanted to see me in it, then asked me to do something sexy. As I was crouching down to do as he asked, my joints popped so loud it sounded like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I fell to the floor laughing and my husband was laughing….we honestly laughed until we cried. He immediately starts saying loudly and annunciating slowly, “Are you okay? Do you have Life Alert? Push the button on your necklace!”

That’s what happens when you’re 42. You get up off the floor, high five, then go on like it never happened.

Fun Things I Learned Yesterday

1. Brown Butter Almond Brittle ice cream tastes better when I lick it from the corner of his mouth.

2. The way he says my name to others makes me all melty.

3. I like the way he looks at me when I try on clothes for him.

4. Williams Sonoma and The Tack Shop are perfectly acceptable places to buy spanky things (spanking your hands with those spanky things while in the stores only elicits a few odd looks).

5. Coffee that costs $18 per pound can still taste like shit, no matter how you brew it.

6. Chinos are softer than jeans if you aren’t wearing underwear (I still don’t own any dresses or skirts).

7. A ‘quickie’ when the kids aren’t home isn’t very quick.

8. When I drink coffee from a lidded cup I lead with my tongue. My husband compared it to something else I do, but it’s a secret.

9. When he slides his hands to rest between my legs in the booth, I’m ready for the check.

10. It’s possible to call in to the local radio station and win hockey tickets while I put on make-up.

Not All About Sex

I’m preoccupied with sex. I can’t help it. I think that’s why it’s so easy to make most topics about sex in some way, even though our dynamic is not all about sex. Yet, the exchange is so appealing and arousing, all the time. I don’t mean to trivialize the rest of what happens between us and I hope I don’t do that. It doesn’t deserve to be trivialized, it’s the closest we’ve ever been. I wonder if it’s possible to be more in love? And more and more?

His leadership in our home has helped to transform our family. He is so focused on making decisions that benefit us all, make our lives better, keep us moving in the right direction. It doesn’t ever go unnoticed. In fact, I see each small detail, all the steps that lead to the bigger picture. I see his forethought, I hear his inner voice. He is our balance. He is my everything.

He’s also really hot ;-).