Thoughts turning wheels around.

Drove to San Francisco to spend a week with my knight. Drove back. One week out of four is not enough time with him, even if another week and half is spent driving and in hotels. Healthy, I feel like a tornado. Little pieces of me flying off all the time. Spreading out. Becoming disoriented. My knight creates the right weather conditions for the funnel to stay together. Moving forward every day in one piece is so hard when we are apart. He is more than my lover.

For two weeks I am love sick for him. For his sex and for his company. I want to hold his hand and go on adventures with him; especially if those adventures end somewhere in the grass without my panties.

For two weeks I need him as a supportive partner. I need sex for most of those days because it's the only thing that really helps dampen the effects of clinical pms. There are some studies showing that hormone absorption from semen through the vagina is beneficial for a woman's mood. There is also the hormones released in my own brain. There is the loving way we are together. For these two weeks, I also just need him to be there. To hold me and help the kids. To put away clothes as I sit there and fold them, not getting out of bed.

For a few days in between I am a raging bubble of estrogen. The tornado is at the peak of destructive power. The risk of everything spinning apart is tipping the scales. When I have my knight to storm around, I stay together. His strongest impulse is to hold onto things. In many ways one of his best qualities. He holds on as the storm rages around.

The longer we are apart, he forgets what the storm feels like. His fantasies of me take an unreal turn. I don't forget what the calm feels like. I desire the calm from him all the time. To see the lighthouse when I'm lost. The longer we are apart the more I yearn to see the light. To rage into the shore and feel it close around me. It's not that I don't fantasize about the good times we could be having in our now jacked-up bed. (Raising our bed to pool table height is one of the best things I've done in recent months!) I do fantasize about his body every time I get up in bed. As thoughts spread apart, pieces flying loose all over the place, I fantasize about calm. The calm in a well formed eye. I wonder how long it will take 'til we're alone.

--31 year old constantly thankful of reaching a place in myself where I can be fully with my knight; with the help of Jack White--his music, his existence in this world.

How are you going to get that deep?

I thought I was over this blog. That I didn't need it anymore. But ugly feelings have a way of laying low and then bubbling up. Nothing like hormone surges to create bubbles. So I have embraced my innate sluttiness inside the safety of a loving marriage. Its the best place to be a slut, since usually you can get it when and how you need it. At least if you put some work into training your partner. But here I am feeling like a slut again and my knight is not around to fuck me back into a good person.

The last strong estrogen surge was between Christmas and New Years. We spent all day playing "Hide from the Kids". That was fun and exciting. Nothing but fond memories from that day. Giggles and orgasms and feeling sore all the next day. And my knight is wonderfully intact, so it takes A LOT to make me sore. I felt a little neglectant of my kids, but generally like a good and healthy wife.

I need all of him to help me be a better person. During an estrogen surge, though, I just need his cock. I need to suck it. I need it thrusting in me. I need to be fulfilled as a slut so that I can remember that I am a wife now. The career I always wanted and endeavored to reach. An essential part of who I am. I am WIFE. I am MOTHER. I am SLUT.

Raconteurs

I agree whole heartedly with JW. A band needs a woman. Except for a few days per month. Then bring on all the testosterone you can muster. Oh, Lord. I don't think I ovulated last month. Not surprising. I used to go months without ovulating. One month doesn't scare me. I feel the ovulation now. My estrogen levels are through the roof. Probably a dangerous idea, but I added alcohol to estrogen. Oh, I want it. Mostly from my knight, but that at this this level of intoxication and ovulation, I would take Jack White; Jack Lawrence or Patrick Keeler as second choice; Brenden Benson only if I got a little bit more drunk. Luckily for my marriage, The Raconteurs are not going to show up at our house tonight :) Sadly, neither is my knight. Next week I am driving halfway across this country to be with him. Him being my knight. It's going to be easier needing him. Easier to reach full orgasm when I experience full ovulation. I only hope our hotel bed is as tall as a pool table like our bed at home. I want to feel, enjoy and relax. I am old enough.