Blame me for robbing Peter

Is healthy sex a contraption? Then I guess the problem is loneliness?
I've always felt like a bad person with good intentions. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. I've at least shed the guilt from being selfish by the truth of my love. I love my husband. I really love him. My knight.

Recently we endured a frustrating house guest situation. I am selfish. I expect house guests to help. I add up the cost of water for every bath they take. I am not a good person. I only have good intentions.

There can't be two good people in one couple. One person has to accept the good intentions of the other without judgment of past. I went to see XMen by myself last Friday. Despite drinking a couple strait vodkas before heading into the theatre, I was sober by the end. (Call me spoiled by Alamo Drafthouse) I came out strutting. What is it about being different that makes me feel mutant? What is it about an XMen movie that makes me feel proud to be mutant? To feel wrong? I don't know. But I felt strongly that added to the cockiness I always felt was self assurance.

The difference between just cockiness and cockiness + self assurance: In the past I would strut wearing tight, revealing clothing feeling pretty sure that men watched me because I knew I was good. Now I strut because. If men are watching me, I may notice and I may not. If I do notice, it is obviously because I am everything. If, by some absurdity, someone is watching me NOT in awe, they are in awe in my mind. In my mind, my strut draws all attraction. Then I spill all that attraction onto my knight. Maybe not needing another outlet creates the self assurance. Who cares?

After my recent growth in core strength, and being fully satisfied in one position, I wanted to try my skills in another. My knight has fucked me kneeling against a wall many times. Could I free-kneel and make him come? Could I take the thrust without support? The answer is yes. I can. It was good.

Is feeling this way a reaction to years of heartbreak? Making sense of it all takes a whole lot of concentration. I do love. So Much. Is that the cause of this sex drive, or just to prove myself better. Either way, we are happy, even if it takes me strutting a bit and nights alone. Even if my good intentions pave my road to Hell. If I can inspire healthy married sex lives for my friends and children, my life has meaning. Whatever the cause, the effect can be good.

I know the right thing for me to do.

Always I think I don't need White Stripes. I don't need Mr. White, right? It ends up not working out that way. Perhaps I was too much about the Stripes all the time. Listening to the Dead Weather in my car. Last night I had a choice. I could plug into Discworld and go to sleep, or sharpen the pain of separation and listen to JW. You know who won.

So I woke up hungover and cleaned the kitchen. What a lame way to live, but what can I do? To know is to want. And to want is to make the want more intense. I could ignore it. Ignore the thoughts. But to what end? I'm madly in love with the best husband ever. I want to ride him. I want him to climb on and fuck me. I want to hold him in my mouth, and be sitting in front of him on a chair. If I push that aside so that I can think rationally, what will I get. I have to martyr my emotions to be this wife.

Sometimes I feel I drink too much while my knight is away. I don't do it to forget. I drink to sharpen the edge of desire. I drink to make the cut into my body and soul clean, the blood fresh, the heal easy. I open wide for my knight to heal me when he comes home. I am saved from the blade.

Ain't No Beauty Queens in This Locality

On the theme of magical voice. There is something about Mr. White's voice that reaches somewhere inside me and makes me feel good about myself.

Thinking all the time lately of what it means to be "in love". I am it. Whatever it means. Also what "sexy" means. What is sexy? A voice? Sure. But the older I get, what it boils down to, what is truly sexy is that man lying next to me and wanting me. And why does he want me? Because I am lying there next to him and wanting him. That's it. That's sexy. And sex is a gift to create and maintain the bond of being "in love". I always love my knight. He's always the only man I trust with my full self. "In love" is a combination of that and sex--sexual attraction, sexual tension, sexual satisfaction.

To be this much in love with my knight at a point in our marriage where many are struggling just to keep talking to each other. It's a real gift. A gift we've worked at? A reward, maybe?

I don't know a song with more true lyrics than that one by Brian May. Maybe it's the millennium old instinct to find a mate who is sturdy. Sturdy enough to survive cold winters and bear children. Maybe it is just the heterosexual masculinity in the song. That raw masculinity that will see every blue-eyed floozy all the way. But life moves on. We all get old and creaky. I sometimes need my knight to pull my legs strait again after leaving me. And what does an old man want? A nice big girl that is comfortable and welcoming. Something easy to find and easy to hold onto. Someone who is sturdy and has borne his children. Something primeval. Instinctual. Someone who's there and wants you. None of us are pretty or cool anymore.

My knight started out loving ass. Good thing. Even before pregnancy--before I lost my 25" waist--I had a big ass. Now I'm just thick. Not overweight, just thick. Solid. Able to keep a whole family warm on winter nights. I sometimes jog and have a great lung capacity and general good health. The primeval sturdy woman. I am happy to be that for my knight. To be comfortable and welcoming.

Back to voices. Every song that Mr. White covers sounds better than the original. Is it his voice. Does his voice feel more true inside me than most singers? Yes. I would love to hear him sing that True song by Mr. May. A True voice for a True song. Only thing better is feeling True on the inside and True in sharing life. Only thing better is to give it all I've got.

Our Love is Love

I'm never going to be cool enough to see surprise rock shows. I avoid crowded places. I live far out of town. If anything, SXSW is a reason to avoid town at all costs :) Thanks to the miracle of YouTube, that's alright. Not cool, but at least I get to hear that magical voice sing my heart.

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.