Don’t Be a Dick

My M went white water rafting this weekend with some friends. When he came home yesterday, he told me this story about the ride……

We were on the boat, 10 of us, and among us were 3 couples, all younger, maybe mid to late twenties. We chatted and talked before we began and I learned that the one couple hadn’t been married long, Jen and Sam. Jen had never been rafting before and was very nervous.

Along the way, there’s a spot where we get off the boat and jump off this 15 foot rock. I could tell Jen didn’t want to go with all the others, but she felt like she should. At the top of the rock, everyone jumped and Sam and Jen were last. I could see them talking, but then Sam jumped, leaving Jen up there by herself. And, the longer she waited, the further away she was from the boat.  She had no choice, she had to jump, alone, and scramble and swim to the boat on her own. When she got onto the boat, she looked scared and hurt and she was obviously upset with Sam.

Later in the ride, our boat flipped on a relatively easy rapid, but Jen was already uneasy from the jump, so she panicked. Sam got in the boat and seemed pretty unconcerned with helping Jen. I helped her into the boat, talked to her and made sure she was okay. By now, she was clearly hurt and upset with Sam and Sam wasn’t going out of his way to comfort her or calm her fears.

At the end, as we were getting ready to leave, paying our goodbyes, I saw Jen standing away from everyone on her own. I walked over to Sam and this is how it went:

M: Sam, how long have you been married?

Sam: I don’t know, less than a year.

M: Sam, I’m going to give you some advice whether you want it or not, you seem like a good guy. I’ve been happily married to my wife for almost 21 years. You need to walk over to your wife, tell her you’re sorry, give her a hug, and tell her she’s safe. If you don’t, you’re a dick.

Sam: Walked away and gave his wife a hug……

M said he felt so bad for Jen. She had to feel so alone and unsafe and hurt, he felt like he needed to say something. And, as he told the story, I felt what it was like to be in Jen’s shoes. Unable to allow herself to look weak on the outside, feeling rather alone, but wanting so badly for Sam to be compassionate and wanting to feel his concern. There was a time I would have shrugged M’s concern away, feeling shameful and weak for needing it. He may have let it be if I said I was okay (and I would have). Not any more.

And, I was moved to tears with pride…..I feel so lucky to have him.

Ladies, let’s accept help from our men. Guys, please, don’t be a dick

Just Listen

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If you haven’t checked out this awesome blog, please do so, it’s definitely worth the time. Kayla Lords is hosting Masturbation Monday, where there are plenty of hot, steamy reads. It’s also an amazing blog, detailing her journey with her Sir. Click the link and read!

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Crisp sheets against clean-shaven skin
Cool breeze blows in the window
Warm body slides in against mine
Hand immediately traveling lower

At first, slow circles, my leg over his
Two fingers now fast on my clit
“Thank you for taking such good care of my pussy,
Always, just the way I like it.”

Strong fingers dip and massage
Slowly teasing, then relentless
So close, already, as they retreat
Colliding with clit to press

Endlessly seeming cycles
Circles and massaging, repeat
“No coming, stay quiet, or I’ll stop”
I listen, breath catching, eyes meet

Loving, encouraging words
But challenged, no release
“Not yet,” he says each time I clench
Back arching, hips beg and plead

Fingers pause, heart beat syncs
As he tells me two rules I must follow
“Stay quiet, Love, and come when I say”
“Yes, Sir,” I say, breath shallow

Painfully slow, the circles begin
On swollen, needy flesh
Fingers abruptly slide to enter
His control, my desire enmesh

I hiss, cool air between my lips
My essence filled with desire
“Stay quiet and breathe, Love,” he says
Then, “Give it to me,” ignites my fire

Pulsing, contracting muscles
Radiate warmth as wetness pools
A pause, so short, my body deceived
Release prolonged, fingers as tools

Foreheads meet, eyes lock
Palm strikes delicate skin
Rub and strike, repeatedly
Explosion nearing again

“Give me one more,” he growls, this time
Sending shivers down my spine
As fingers enter above and below
Wrecking orgasm, his words in mind

Waves of pleasure, meditative breath
Trembles and quakes let go
Souls intertwined with powerful words
“Just listen,” and my body does follow

Opened My Eyes

Every now and then, the distance I’ve traveled in the last year seems so far. I’m taken aback by the breadth of it, even amidst the knowledge that there’s a long road ahead. I’m aware of the things I’m aware of – ridiculous, right? But, it’s not really.

Not much more than a year ago, I was a woman, standing on her own two wobbly feet, ready to stumble. To purposefully stumble, but unaware of just how much I’d stumble. And, I stumbled, repeatedly…I still stumble. But today, I try very hard to embrace those stumbles, because I know I’ll always land right back on my own two feet. Those two feet which are firmly planted right in between M’s two feet, as he supports me, encourages me and pushes me. I’m aware of ME. I’m aware of the depth of US. I’m aware of how far WE’VE traveled, together.

I’m acutely aware of how thankful I am for having opened my eyes and taken that risk. I’m thankful for being aware.

Top Five Things I Learned Working The Fundraiser With M

1. Fundraisers that revolve around tasting beer and wine are ALWAYS a good idea.

2. Having a sore ass all evening makes the event LOTS more fun. It’s also fun to try to guess who else has a sore ass.

3. Dancing in public is not so horrible, but only when M is there to grind on.

4. Leather flip flops feel disgusting when they are squishy with beer.

5. It’s always funny to tell your husband’s boss that his wife is REALLY going to enjoy his freshly grown stubble. Everywhere.

The Now

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This feeling that I may not be enough, that I might not belong or fit, it’s been THE predominant feeling inside me for as long as I can remember. It has clouded every decision I’ve ever made, played a part in every interaction, and kept me from taking risks and letting people in. There was too much at stake. I guarded and preserved that raw core and fought to keep an exterior that would get me through. That, I believed in. I KNEW I could do that. And I did.

Now that I’m becoming comfortable with the constant change and evolution in our relationship, gaining confidence, and drawing strength from our ability to persevere and flourish, I have this constant conflict in my head. It revolves around this feeling of worth, as I mentioned in Worth It. But, it’s more than that. I’ve stripped away layers of armor, exposing myself for the first time in my life. That leaves me feeling raw, at times – not weak, but unsure and sometimes on shaky ground. Yet, there’s also this woman inside me who fights and survives. Who steadily climbs, no matter the obstacles. I still have faith in her. In that me. She still exists. I know, without a doubt, that I can, if I have to. I can do whatever I need to do. Whatever I decide I need to do, no matter the obstacle. Except, that me drew strength from the fight. From the overcoming of the obstacle.

But now I realize I’ve always been trying to convince….me. To convince myself that I’m enough. My biggest obstacle has always been……me. And I’ve been trying to get out of my own way. I AM getting out of my own way, but in order to do so, I’ve been digging so deep, and I’ve only been able to do so because of my relationship with M, because of my love for him and trust in him. Because of this missing piece to my puzzle, the letting go. This piece fits, allowing me to challenge every bit of rebellion, every piece of me that continues to get in my own way, that keeps me from being the best me I can be. The best part is, that the more I fight, the less fight there is, because I can no longer make excuses, rationalize, or lie to myself. I must face it head on, I must trust, I must see and find my worth. I am inspired to see what he sees. While there’s still struggle and change, and there will always be, there’s also forgiveness and acceptance. Strength and contentment – getting used to NOT having to fight so hard and confidence in the fights that are necessary. There’s joy in the now.

I really love the now.

Life Gets Messy

As much as I love to write about sexy interludes with neat and tidy endings, real life doesn’t always allow for that. Sexy doesn’t always go as planned. In fact, it often lakes a left turn.

Sometimes there are knocks on doors, just I’m about to launch into orbit. There are way too expensive, dog-chewed vibrators stuck in the covers. Slippery body parts that flail and toys slick with lube that go flying. There are emergency phone calls from work when I’m tangled up with rope. Bad dreams and ‘Mommy’s’ yelled as I’m breathless with shaky knees. There are arched backs and knees on ears and ibuprofen in the morning. The sound of the dog yacking in the hallway, heard over the low grunts and moans. There are messy sheets and beds that need to be remade at 1:00am. Doors that have been forgotten to be locked. And oh, so many more…

I’ll gladly take it all. Every mishap and fumble, interruption and ache. What fun life is when things get a little messy.

Reaching For The Sun

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Two saplings
In a forest of trees
Both desperately reaching
For the sun

Up, up, seemingly
Toward and forward
In parallel
Together, but not with

Stunted, each one
Too shaded, blinded
Lying dormant
Too busy looking down

Awake, mature
Two trees bend with
Entwined, together
As one

Reaching for the sun

Catch Her

Seated at the edge of the ottoman, shuddering, she looks up at him. In this moment, she is at her most vulnerable, the most exposed. Stripped of all defenses, all armor, all that is left is HER. Surrendered to him.

Tired, yet unable to be still, her legs are slightly stiff from the prolonged position above her head, attached to that hook in the ceiling. The backs of her legs and her bottom are stinging and red, warm from the impact, the slightly scratchy cloth on the ottoman reminding her he’s just been there. Hot to the touch and extra sensitive, her nipples, still taut, register even the smallest shift in the air around her as he moves. She’s gathered her hands, pressed together between her thighs, chilled, trying her best to stop the shaking. But she cannot. It’s involuntary. Her body is speaking for her, now.

Just a bit ago, as he maneuvered her body, her mind followed what was going on around her, wondering what he might be grabbing, thinking about the tightness of this or the looseness of that. Feeling the chill of the air, noticing the music in the background. And then, he began.

The directed words encourage her to do as he wishes, the bite of pain, again and again, the constant rumble of vibration, the pinch and pull on her nipples as he moves, his warmth, moving inside her, and her senses are overwhelmed. Pushed and focused, taken to a place she can’t quite understand. It feels so foggy and full inside her head, but it’s not. In fact, all that’s left in her head, is him. She can think only of him. She feels only him. She smells and tastes and hears only him. She cannot see him, but that doesn’t matter. Every ounce of her knows it’s him who is consuming her every sense. It is him who has pushed her to this place where she’s ready to cling to him. She’s fallen so far into herself, giving of herself and challenging herself for him, until all her layers are gone, revealing her core to him.

This yearning she feels as he finishes is so strong there are not words for it. Her body speaks a language she desperately needs him to understand; she couldn’t explain right now no matter how hard she tried. Skin. She NEEDS to feel his skin, his weight upon her. She needs to feel HIS need. Now that she sits before him, her truest self for him, she needs to feel him NEED her as much as she needs him. Closing her eyes, she simply gives the last of herself to him. Beyond surrender, this is faith. Faith in him to catch her, to carry her, to take her in his arms and keep her right there. Forever.

Worth It

There’s this amazing blogger, Annie B., who moves me with each post she writes. She punches me in the gut, grabs hold of my heart and makes me think long and hard about many things. Today, she did just that – punched me in the gut and made me think. Something she said struck me so deeply. She said that in the process of letting go, she trusts her Beloved, but it is herself whom she may not trust fully. I know that feeling.

So many times, I’ve written that I am sometimes afraid and have trouble trusting in M. I think it’s been easy to say it’s him I have trouble trusting. It’s not him, it’s ME. I’ve always been afraid I wasn’t good enough and I know that still lingers. I’m afraid that at my exposed core, there’s not enough. If there is no smoke screen, he (and anyone else) will see the real me, ALL of it. That I will see me, and what if I’m not enough? So, I sometimes do things to keep that focus off of ME. I project onto him. I get afraid of me and doubt us or our direction. I even have specific expectations of him sometimes, to see if I’m worthy of his hard work. But then, if that test or the pushing or the expectations aren’t met, meeting the visions I had in my head (and they often are not met, since I’m not the boss and his visions do not necessarily match mine), I’m not actually disappointed in him, I’m disappointed in ME. Because, it must be me. I must not be worth it.

It has taken a shift in thinking by me, to begin to overcome this self-destructive thinking, from ‘what more will he do to prove to me I’m worthy’ to ‘look at all he’s done to show me he loves me and that I’m worthy’ and ‘he’s already proven his love, a million times over’. He continues to do just that, every day. I have been making conscious efforts, every single day, to see what he does for what it is….his vision of doing what is right and good, for us. Because he feels I’m worthy of that effort. Because we’re worth it. When I do this, I see with much clearer eyes. I feel and appreciate so much more, so many of the little things, which aren’t so little. It feels so good.