dark

Finally, I understand what Reed has told me a few times over the past year, about not being able to read blogs. They’re just too much. I just made the brutally painful choice to read LadyP and Theo. I was in agony over their tales, over their spectacularly hot and sweet and perfect writing, over their love stories… over their very relationships*.

Things are decidedly not good here. There’ve been about 10 words exchanged between me & M since I got back Wednesday night. Yeah, that’s not good at all. And I don’t know if I want to put in the work required to make it good again. I’m completely checked out as it stands in this moment.

 

*Please, LadyP & Theo, keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t think for a minute that you need to do anything differently. I’ll come back when I can.

life creeps in

I’m tired.

We’re having the semi-annual discussion about why he won’t sleep in the bed.

He’s sick.

He’s stressed.

I’m going out of town for a few days, headed to my grandfather’s funeral.

 

Add it up and it comes out to not having a whole lot of sexy sex. I hope when I get back we make up for lost time.

M speaks

A: I haven’t posted in a while. What should I write about?

M: How I’m gonna give it to you up the ass tonight.

A: Really?

M: Yeah, after I tie you to the bed and spank you so hard you can’t sit down tomorrow. Then I’ll put clothespins on your nipples.

A: NO WAY. [to the clothespins, not the tying up and/or spanking.] Hey, can I interview you?

M: No.

A: Come on! Who is the sexiest person ever?

M: I’m not doing an interview with you.

A: Why not?

M: Fine. Uh… (long pause) I… I don’t know who the sexiest person ever is. Me?

A: What have we done recently that you’ve really liked?

M: Made you squirt.
[I forgot to add in this post that there was a HUGE wet spot on the bed after I came while he was eating me out. *glows with pride*]

A: What are you looking forward to trying next?

M: Woman.

A: Can you elaborate?

M: A second woman.

A: What do you hope she looks like?

M: That she has beautiful eyes and huge knockers.

A: What, mine aren’t big enough for you?

M: No, yours are plenty fine. Really that she’s not 51.
[the woman we thought might work out from CL turned out to be 51, past our preferred age range of 25-45]

A: What if I want to see you fuck her?

M: That’s fine.

A: Do you have a hard-on right now?

M: Give me 30 seconds and I can.

A: Do you have any questions for me?

M: Uh, no? Maybe? I guess… I’ll come back to that.

A: When?

M: I’ll have to check my daytimer.

A: But I thought I was your secretary? You’re totally sleeping with your secretary.

M: Yeah.

A: It’s like you work for Sterling Cooper Draper Price.

M: (long pause) What? Okay.

I probably shouldn’t interview him during a baseball game.

********edit********

M: Wait, you don’t have any more questions?

A: You seemed to be done. I already published.

M: It was a statement, not a question.

A: Ok, If you could only do one sexual thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

M: Oh, good Lord. Uh… receive blowjobs.

A: Well, that’s predictably male answer.

M: Well, it’s not gonna be masturbation!

A: Well, what if I’m dead?

M: I didn’t specifically say I’d get them from you.

A: You’re so sweet.

M: Yes. I mean, it would be from you until you die. Plan on doing that anytime soon?

A: Not if I can help it, dear. If you could pick any man alive to have sex with, who would it be?

M: I’ve never really thought about it. (very long pause) I don’t think there’s an answer to that question.

A: Hmmm. Have you ever had a crush on any of our friends?

M: I don’t want to say crush, but… I don’t know.

A: Let me put it this way…

M: (predicting what I was about to ask) Did I ever want to *do* any of our friends? I guess I was somewhat interested in S—— and then I was a little interested in K—–, and then I lost interest, but then I saw her <doing an activity I DETEST but that he loves> and then I thought I want to kidnap her and run away to Belize. Plus she cuddles with her husband.

A: We cuddle. [We do!!]

M: Yes.

A: How come you never told me about thinking they were hot?

M: It seems obvious not to tell your wife that. I don’t think they’re hot, there was just this… ok… I think it’s human nature or male nature to go, ok, to judge… I don’t know, I can’t really… [the ballgame has obviously gotten his attention again.]

A: What if we did end up going to a swingers club and there was a couple we were both attracted to? How would you feel about the guy fucking me in front of you?

M: As long as I could do his wife… As long as I get to fuck her and you suck my cock when I come.

A: I am on board with that plan. Would you ever want to have a threesome with another man? What if I really wanted to?

M: I guess it’d be all right. But it’d have to be J—– (his gay co-worker).

A: Aha! I knew there was a man you’d fuck. But I guarantee it’d be easier to find a man for a threesome than a woman.

M: Yeah, but, I’m not interested.

A: You just said you were!

M: We’d have to be really selective.

A: Well, obviously.

M: Where else are you gonna find a man who looks as good as me?

A: One thing I’ve always loved about you is your modesty.

M: It is my best quality.

A: I came up with that joke a hundred years ago and you know it. Hey, for someone who didn’t want to be interviewed, you sure are having fun answering.

M: What can I say, I’m a talker. Is that a question?

A: No. You sure you don’t have any questions for me?

M: Have you met a girlfriend yet?

A: No. You’d know it if I had. Well, there was that woman at the lesbian bar who gave me her earrings.

M: That was kinda weird.

A: You’re telling me.

M: Is that somebody you would have potentially hooked up with?

A: Maybe. She had a lot of issues, though. I guess I attract people with issues. [referring of course to last summer's failed attempt]
Ok, I’ll close this interview by telling you I love you.

M: I want to know what sort of sexual activity would you like to experience next.

A: Same as you. I want to lick pussy.

M: If you could pick one vegetable to have sex with, which would it be?

A: Zucchini. Or a peach.

M: Peaches are very sexy.

A: Yeah, but they’re not vegetables. Whoops.

M: Minor detail.

A: Anything else?

M: I wouldn’t mind – I don’t know if I want *you* giving it to me up the ass while I’m fucking another woman, or if I want another woman fucking me while I fuck you? Or if I just want you to do it by yourself. Or if I want a man to do it. I don’t think so, though. I just like cleavage a lot. A LOT.

A: (laughing for a long time)

M: So I don’t think I want that.

A: This post is now over 1100 words. Way longer than most of my posts.

M: That’s what you said about my dick, too.

A: That doesn’t make any sense.

*****and…  scene*****

awwwww YEAH.

I’ve won! Again! My delightful friend Theo who regularly scorches my face off with the major hotness of his writing has deemed me worthy of this hilariously named BILF award.

Here are the rules of the Sexy Blogger Award:

1. Post 5 sexy suggestions.
2. Post a link to your sexiest blog post.
3. Nominate 5 other sexy bloggers.
4. Let your nominees know they’re sexy.

So, here goes.

Five sexy suggestions:

1. Dear people of the world: please wear clothing that fits you. Err on the side of too small, if you must. Oversized clothing doesn’t flatter anyone.
2. Men: trim it up down there. No one wants a nose-full of pubes, and I promise, your dick will look bigger.
3. Turn your camera flash off if you’re taking pictures of skin. It’s best to just leave it off forever and ever, but it’s especially important if you’re photographing flesh.
4. Men: do something with your hands once in a while. Build a doghouse, install a shelf, fix the newel post. Alpha it up a bit.
5. Spend as much time naked or nearly-naked as possible. If I’m home alone, chances are I’m stripping most of the way.

Sexiest blog post:

I kinda liked this one. But if you want to know what has gotten the most pageviews of all time? OBVIOUSLY.

Nominate five other sexy bloggers.

1. I love pestering Reed into acting social. He’s sexy because he loves his wife so effing much. Devotion = sexy.
2. Nate is the newest blogger I’ve discovered. Well, to be fair, he discovered me first. But I like his writing, a lot. Good writing = sexy.
3. Oh, what can I say about LadyJ. She leaves THE BEST comments and is one of the most inspiring women I’ve ever encountered. Earnest, honest, and kind = sexy.
4. Lovely poetry and gorgeous flower photos… Jesse’s work = sexy.
5. Both M and I crush SO VERY HARD on the spectacular Lady Pandorah. It’s not even a joke when I say that you’d have to pry our eyes, hands, mouths and nethers off this woman if we ever were fortunate enough to be in the same room. LadyP = sexy.

I’m sure I could make a long, long list of BILFs. But M is my HILF and so I’d better get off the damned internet, AMIRITE?

smooth

One day last week I had some time. So I took some time. When I trim up my pubes it takes several steps. First I get out the clippers. #1 all over. Then the wax strips on the edges in the front and the strays on my inner thighs. After that I sit on the edge of the tub with a mirror, shaving cream, and razor. The tub has to be full with about 4 inches of fairly warm water.  And then begins the laborious task of shaving. I really wish this process resulted in longer-lasting hairlessness. But professional waxing is expensive, I can’t reach or see well enough to wax it all myself, and M has – so far – decided he’s not interested.

ANYWAY.

Hours later, M came home from work. I had to run out for a couple of hours, but he grabbed me for a hug in the bedroom. He turned me around face down on the bed, pulled my pants down and took his cock out. As he slid into me from behind, I decided to take charge. He was fully pressed against me, so I turned my head slightly to speak.

“While I’m gone I want you to shave your beard,” I say.

“What?” He’s surprised. I’m surprised, too. I’ve been known to body block him from the razor, I love him with a beard so much. But it just came out.

“Shave it all, and then I want you to eat my pussy until I come.”

“Ok.”

We fuck a little longer and then I have to go.

When I return, he’s done it. It’s been almost 2 years since M was clean-shaven. It’s such a startling difference. Sex with a stranger.

That night he licks me so hard and has his fingers in so deep that I come on his face. This is unusual. But we both like how smooth the other one is. His tongue kept the right pressure and speed on my clit. His fingers were deep in my pussy, pressing upward slightly on what I guess is my g-spot. It felt amazing.

Kissing him afterwards was MUCH more pleasant with him shaven than with a beard. He fucked me some more and then shot his come all over my tits.

 

first blogiversary

Happy birthday, tenyearsin. Happy birthday, Anisa.

This place has been a haven, a burden, a hurt, a healer, a psychologist, an inspiration, and a friend. I remember feeling immediately a little more sure of myself once I started posting. Having made friends with Reed has been one of the best things that’s ever happened in my life.

There have been more ups and downs in this past year than ever before in my life. Some of you have come to mean so very much to me and have been there to see me through some dark, dark days. And at the high points, your cheers have been nearly louder than my own.

If you’re looking to give me & the blog a birthday gift – leave me a comment. Say hello, tell me why you visit here.

Here’s my present to you. Here we are, on our 10th anniversary. May there be many more.

sigh.

power shift

I’m laying in bed with a book. A trashy, steamy romance novel. M comes in the room. “I think I found you a girlfriend.”

He asks me to come out to look at these emails he’s been sending back & forth with a girl he found on CL. He’s lied about our ages since she was looking for people older than we are. I highly doubt I can pull off being 36. I barely look 30, or so I’m told. But she’s good looking, has great photos, seems to be able to write an email without shortening you to u and are to r.

I tell him I’d like to talk to her myself, he thinks that’s a good idea. She is also married but was looking for a couple to play with, and her husband might eventually join in. Again, I’m kind of surprised that M is interested in this scenario, but I’ll go with it.

He puts my hand on his crotch. He’s getting hard, just thinking about what we might do with her. I remind him I’m not up for much action right now, but I’ll give him a handjob. “With tongue,” I add. I assist him in removing his shorts and boxers, and up springs his enormous cock, ready for me. Ready for her, too, it appears. I lay across his lap, licking the head of it gently. The skin is silky on the shaft, and when I wrap my hand around him, my thumb & middle finger don’t touch.

Kneeling on the floor on a pillow, I start working a bit harder. My shirt & bra come off and as I raise up to kiss his mouth, the space between my tits is filled with cock. As it should be.

When we get to the bed, he stands beside it and I lay down so he can fuck my mouth. After a bit he asks me to get the lube and vibrator. M’s ass is mine tonight. He bends over the bed and I pour lube down his crack. As I work one finger in, I reach below with a lubed up hand and stroke his cock and balls. I find myself bending over him, almost as if I were fucking him from behind. I glance over to the mirror, which he sees me do. “You like this, don’t you?” he asks. “I do.”

I’ve gotten the vibe in now, and am pushing it in and pulling it out as fast as I can manage with the lubed up hands. He is moaning in a totally new way. He wants to stand back up, and so I lay down, reaching my hand between his legs to fuck his ass with the vibrator and using my other hand to stroke his cock over and over. As he comes he groans and lets loose an enormous amount onto my tits. After a few seconds, he takes the vibe into the bathroom, washes it and his hands, and collapses back onto the bed. “How was that?” I ask. “We’ll talk about it later. Too soon,” he mumbles and he instantly falls asleep.

 

perfect storm

I’ve probably used that as a post title before, but honestly? I don’t care enough to go check. Deal with it.

As you might be guessing, I’ve not been in tip-top shape. I’m hormonal, depressed, and overwhelmed. It’s two weeks until my would-have-been-due date. I’ve not been to the gym in a week because of a foot injury. I haven’t made time to talk to Reed. I’ve barely done any studying. I’m in minimal power mode, and I’ve only got enough juice to operate the basic systems at the moment. I’m pretty sure I’ve been shitty to M. I think I’m doing okay with my kids but I might not be seeing too clearly.

If I don’t list the good stuff I’ll feel like a total bitch clicking ‘publish.’

• there’s been a few occasions for sexy sex. Good sexy sex.
• my friends Jane & Mark have confessed they like to hug me so often because they get good boob contact from me. Happy to oblige.
• I have jelly beans. Good ones. I’m going to eat some in the next 5 minutes.

(Don’t you guys agree that this [beyond ridiculous] post is totally e-lust worthy? *headdesk*)

be prepared

I just decided to hug M last night after he got home. I was feeling good, no sense in prolonging the tension. Nothing’s resolved, not much has changed, except the general mood in the house. That’ll have to be enough for now.

We woke up at 3:30am, had an amazing fuck that ended with him drilling his cock into my ass. I know, I’m shaking my head at us, too.

Anyway, the chorus of this song pretty much sums it up.

how much

{three days ago, M told me clearly that he didn’t want me to feel censored here, at least by him. so I’m going to post this. any censoring is done by myself from here on out.}

After yesterday’s post I figured we were on a major upswing. I wrote it right after leaving a meeting with our life ins./investment advisor. {this post has little to do with sex and everything to do with marriage and relationships. feel free to click away and come back later for the smut.} During the meeting we both spoke freely about our issues with money – i.e., he is a tight-fisted disciplinarian saver, and I think there should be more of a balance between saving for the future and living in the present. This has been a battle for me, I used to be the type to way overspend and run up credit balances. But right now, we have next-to-no debt, a very comfortable cushion of savings, and college accounts for the kids. Both of us work for non-profits, and what we make combined is probably less than what most of you people make on your own. But as M has put the savings pressure on, we’ve gotten to the point where we save about 40% of our income. {in 2003, the national average was 1.4%} It’s kind of ridiculous.

I know it’s probably not ‘polite’ to talk about money with strangers, but I felt like you needed the background to what happened later. We left our meeting with smiles on our faces, having been told that we have enough cash right now, and that we should rearrange & reprioritize where the money is going so that we can better plan for retirement. I actually felt positive about our situation for the first time in ages. All my resentment towards M for being so strict had faded for the moment. I felt good that we’d done so well. We even high fived each other in the parking lot.

But last night, M revealed his true feelings. He reasserted that he still didn’t think we had enough in savings, despite what our professional advisor said. He completely disagrees with placing a higher level of importance on saving for retirement than saving for college, despite the opinion of pretty much every financial expert ever. {The kids can get loans & scholarships for college, no one will ever give us a loan or scholarship for retirement.} He is SO damn unapologetic and smug when he says this stuff.  And as a result, I’m back to feeling like our immediate needs are less a priority than this nebulous ‘future’. I have resisted going to a therapist for my depression because he’s made it clear we ‘don’t have the money.’ I can’t feel free to buy clothes for my shrinking frame because we ‘don’t have the money.’ I am always looking over my shoulder when I spend, afraid of his reactions.

His actions say that he cares more about money than about experiences or time spent with family. Bottom line is, I feel like he cares more about the amount in our savings account than about living today, about compromise, about my mental health, about making me feel secure, and safe, and loved.