After announcing our engagement, a sister told our relatives that I was marrying my knight for his money. By that time, this was not true.
What is true is that I had spent the previous couple of years seeking a man who would support me financially. I did start dating him because he could buy me dinner. Is that so crazy when I was living on mostly yogurt? Who puts up a fight walking out of Hell? Six months later, when we started planning a wedding, he had already seen a whole lot of dark shit with his eyes open and not becoming scared. He had also been my longest lasting relationship at that point.
Those many times in between doomed relationships were not empty. I was never good at lonely and I didn't have to be. Didn't matter that I was never beautiful. Didn't hurt that I had a body, while not small, was round in all the right places. Really, though, it's because I was a woman wanting something from a man. That's it. And I got all kinds of things from men.
Recently loneliness has crept back into my life. Can I really complain that paying my bills means my knight has to travel? My world crumbles every time I leave him at the airport. Everytime searching for some new, safe, way to fill the loneliness. Looking for someone to play with me through words. A world of words is what I have.
It is no coincidence that I was already trying to live out fantasies of being owned with I met my knight. He likes to own everything. I like that he owns me. Ownership and desire. He needs one, I need the other. Until recently just getting it from the other person has been enough. But I never was good at lonely. While he can own many things inanimate, desire has to come from another human being. Often drunk and alone late at night, I have been soliciting it. Got more than I bargained for.
Cut loose and high, I strutted through the rain to see a former playmate. Really, it was just for a laugh, as I had no obvious indication from him that he found me at all interesting any longer. Then he fucking picked me up. Like I said, I haven't been small since turning 16. To be picked up like it was nothing feels like flying. I haven't been picked up like that in nearly a decade, as my knight did not focus on growing upper body strength as a teenager. Now it's too late. I realized this feeling is the driving force behind all my "fucking against a _____" fantasies. But the night did not end there. In saying goodbye, this former playmate picked me up again and shared his desire with me. Strong and palpable desire.
The next afternoon, alone in a cold bath, I had a pit in my stomach thinking about never again orgasming to that feeling of lightness and desire. A few days after that, I broached the subject with my knight. The good owner he is, he suggested a possibility that would open up my experiences for now, while reaffirming his ownership of my body. Since then, he is sharing all sorts of new desires with me. Things that can happen. That I would enjoy. That we can both enjoy. I don't know how long this hypersexual phase of our marriage will last, but I plan to ride it for all it's worth. And keep falling in love with my knight anew.
And I thank that playmate for clarifying my desires by sharing his own.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
I got a knockin' in my knees
And, Lord, I sure got a wobble in my walk!
There hasn't been enough time for my Knight to take me in his arms and talk romance. Sometimes I feel after almost 9 years together, we are set in our grooves. And I am definitely chafing.
Not sure what it is. Maybe it's just a result of stress at home from all this turmoil. Maybe the safety of my cage is starting to feel too safe. There are things I can do and be in this safe space created by my love. A wonderful life I have hidden inside for nearly a decade. I love this life. I always want to have his space that outsiders can't invade. The problem comes that I am feeling power surge through my still relatively young body. The body wants to go hunt, and then run home to lick my wounds.
I got the chance to do this last week. It was thrilling. When my Knight and I go out, I like to turn on the whole room, but only from afar. I want the men to want me. I want the men to desire to be my husband--at least for right then. My recent venture was without my man to hold onto. I was on several club dance floors. Touching and drinking and partying. I woke up the next two mornings in pain. And confused.
I want to go do that again! That was open and scary, I want to stay here and hide! Then a friend's blog post talked about growing up, and to this day, struggling with self power. Letting what people say affect how she acts. Using ugliness to feel elevated. That's not the way to be great. The way to the center is to treat people well and walk away from ugliness. So am I headed towards clubbing with friends becoming a regular part of my life again? Can I show women my age what it's like to be young and lovely? By that, I mean can I do so and not get lost out there in the wild world.
Tonight I feel secure inside my home. With secure comes the ability to venture out. What has brought this deep sense of stability? Learning something new with my Knight. We have finally bridged a gap for both of us. He has found a new interest, that was a variant of our primary goal. A cloud has finally lifted for me. I have finally had an anal sex experience that was not scary, emotionally belittling, or painful. Sitting here typing, I feel warm, glowing, and like I will be waking someone up in a few minutes. My Knight half grunting, "God! _(my name)_!" when he came with his cock in one hole and his finger in another will be dominating my fantasies for quite awhile. With a love bubble this bright, there is no way I could lose sight of it when wiggling my toes in the murky world outside.
There hasn't been enough time for my Knight to take me in his arms and talk romance. Sometimes I feel after almost 9 years together, we are set in our grooves. And I am definitely chafing.
Not sure what it is. Maybe it's just a result of stress at home from all this turmoil. Maybe the safety of my cage is starting to feel too safe. There are things I can do and be in this safe space created by my love. A wonderful life I have hidden inside for nearly a decade. I love this life. I always want to have his space that outsiders can't invade. The problem comes that I am feeling power surge through my still relatively young body. The body wants to go hunt, and then run home to lick my wounds.
I got the chance to do this last week. It was thrilling. When my Knight and I go out, I like to turn on the whole room, but only from afar. I want the men to want me. I want the men to desire to be my husband--at least for right then. My recent venture was without my man to hold onto. I was on several club dance floors. Touching and drinking and partying. I woke up the next two mornings in pain. And confused.
I want to go do that again! That was open and scary, I want to stay here and hide! Then a friend's blog post talked about growing up, and to this day, struggling with self power. Letting what people say affect how she acts. Using ugliness to feel elevated. That's not the way to be great. The way to the center is to treat people well and walk away from ugliness. So am I headed towards clubbing with friends becoming a regular part of my life again? Can I show women my age what it's like to be young and lovely? By that, I mean can I do so and not get lost out there in the wild world.
Tonight I feel secure inside my home. With secure comes the ability to venture out. What has brought this deep sense of stability? Learning something new with my Knight. We have finally bridged a gap for both of us. He has found a new interest, that was a variant of our primary goal. A cloud has finally lifted for me. I have finally had an anal sex experience that was not scary, emotionally belittling, or painful. Sitting here typing, I feel warm, glowing, and like I will be waking someone up in a few minutes. My Knight half grunting, "God! _(my name)_!" when he came with his cock in one hole and his finger in another will be dominating my fantasies for quite awhile. With a love bubble this bright, there is no way I could lose sight of it when wiggling my toes in the murky world outside.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Is never on the menu.
I had an experience tonight. Disturbing. I want to tell my Knight about it, but he is far away and out of time with me. Now that I have it resolved in my mind, I can't hold it in until I talk to him next. He will have to read it here. That upsets me, but it is also an alternative purpose of this blog.
Lets start with some background. I have fallen in love with women throughout my adult life. In truth I was first in love with a woman before I ever sought a male sexual partner. Being able to fall in love with a person regardless of gender I believe is ubiquitous female characteristic. What makes me different from every woman I know, is that even though I have fallen in love with women, I have never had any sexual urges for one. Ever. My first female love interest, I think I wanted to live inside her skin, to be near her always, but I never wanted to kiss her or to touch her sexually. I have only lusted for men.
Later, after I became sexually active, I had a much more casual stance when I found myself falling for a woman. What did it matter? So I had a slightly stronger attachment to one friend over the others. It wasn't quite the same as other loving friendships. I have, for instance, never felt I was in love with the woman that I consider my very best friend. It's a part of my emotional make-up that I have never really thought about or had a clear understanding. It hasn't factored largely in my lifestyle.
I have had feelings of being in love with one woman friend for several years. Hasn't really affected anything. Several months ago that started to change. She, not knowing she was doing this, offered up a surrogate man for me to put in fantasy. When she described a relationship situation she wished she had with this man who is her soulmate, I realized that if I was not already spoken for, I could fill her desire. Even at that point it didn't have a major effect on my life. Perhaps the occasional, fleeting, vague fantasy.
To me, a truly married couple is like one person. I know I often feel like my Knight and I combined are a whole person. He is my soulmate.
Things have been difficult the last few months. I was, am, dealing with stress related depression. I have not felt my sexual self for a couple months or so. This is my first ovulation cycle where I am again overcome sex thoughts. Since my Knight is far away, I am talking about sex with all my friends who are willing to do so. After confessing to the friend that I have had passing fantasies about her and her soulmate, those fantasies started to consume my mind. Not only that, they became more detailed and increasingly fantastically erotic. By fantastically, I mean not something that could happen in real life with real physics.
I didn't meant for these fantasies to get this way. I was frustrated with myself when I did. I eventually let go, let the fantasies take over, and got off to them with my glass dildo inside for help. I sat there for over an hour with the dildo still inside, feeling ashamed. Finally I pulled it out and held the warm glass in my hands. I smelled it and realized instantly what my REAL problem is.
With all the depression recently, my Knight and I have been at each other a couple times a week or LESS!! His smell is not on me! I knew sitting there with the warm glass that only smelled of me, that if I could smell is brand on me, I would never have vivid fantasies about another real life person. Whatever strange and stray fantasy emotions that may cross my self, if I can smell my Knight's brand, I feel safely anchored to him. There is nothing in my life I feel more strongly about that my relief to be anchored sexually to my Knight. Whatever happens, he will be there to take care of me and I will encourage him to reach levels of pleasure he has only dreamed of.
Tomorrow my Knight will come home. Every desire I am currently experiencing is wrapped up in smelling him next to me. The smelling him mixed with me. Then feeling him in charge of me. I don't know any love stronger than the love I feel for him. It's more than being in love. It's more than being in love AND being in lust. It's a connection that consumes me. My love for him is my world.
Lets start with some background. I have fallen in love with women throughout my adult life. In truth I was first in love with a woman before I ever sought a male sexual partner. Being able to fall in love with a person regardless of gender I believe is ubiquitous female characteristic. What makes me different from every woman I know, is that even though I have fallen in love with women, I have never had any sexual urges for one. Ever. My first female love interest, I think I wanted to live inside her skin, to be near her always, but I never wanted to kiss her or to touch her sexually. I have only lusted for men.
Later, after I became sexually active, I had a much more casual stance when I found myself falling for a woman. What did it matter? So I had a slightly stronger attachment to one friend over the others. It wasn't quite the same as other loving friendships. I have, for instance, never felt I was in love with the woman that I consider my very best friend. It's a part of my emotional make-up that I have never really thought about or had a clear understanding. It hasn't factored largely in my lifestyle.
I have had feelings of being in love with one woman friend for several years. Hasn't really affected anything. Several months ago that started to change. She, not knowing she was doing this, offered up a surrogate man for me to put in fantasy. When she described a relationship situation she wished she had with this man who is her soulmate, I realized that if I was not already spoken for, I could fill her desire. Even at that point it didn't have a major effect on my life. Perhaps the occasional, fleeting, vague fantasy.
To me, a truly married couple is like one person. I know I often feel like my Knight and I combined are a whole person. He is my soulmate.
Things have been difficult the last few months. I was, am, dealing with stress related depression. I have not felt my sexual self for a couple months or so. This is my first ovulation cycle where I am again overcome sex thoughts. Since my Knight is far away, I am talking about sex with all my friends who are willing to do so. After confessing to the friend that I have had passing fantasies about her and her soulmate, those fantasies started to consume my mind. Not only that, they became more detailed and increasingly fantastically erotic. By fantastically, I mean not something that could happen in real life with real physics.
I didn't meant for these fantasies to get this way. I was frustrated with myself when I did. I eventually let go, let the fantasies take over, and got off to them with my glass dildo inside for help. I sat there for over an hour with the dildo still inside, feeling ashamed. Finally I pulled it out and held the warm glass in my hands. I smelled it and realized instantly what my REAL problem is.
With all the depression recently, my Knight and I have been at each other a couple times a week or LESS!! His smell is not on me! I knew sitting there with the warm glass that only smelled of me, that if I could smell is brand on me, I would never have vivid fantasies about another real life person. Whatever strange and stray fantasy emotions that may cross my self, if I can smell my Knight's brand, I feel safely anchored to him. There is nothing in my life I feel more strongly about that my relief to be anchored sexually to my Knight. Whatever happens, he will be there to take care of me and I will encourage him to reach levels of pleasure he has only dreamed of.
Tomorrow my Knight will come home. Every desire I am currently experiencing is wrapped up in smelling him next to me. The smelling him mixed with me. Then feeling him in charge of me. I don't know any love stronger than the love I feel for him. It's more than being in love. It's more than being in love AND being in lust. It's a connection that consumes me. My love for him is my world.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
When the song takes over me.
So I can't keep quiet for long. This new album is milk and honey on my soul. It's so powerful that I had to listen to Ledbelly this morning just for a break.
As for my sex life these days, it's up and down. This is one of those lovely hard times. My knight and I are still very much in love. Things came to a head and I had to put severe pressure on him to get all his stuff out of my house. We are still in that process. His spending any available daylight to move stuff into his warehouse in the front yard has put a pause on our liaisons. Morning is too crowded and by nighttime I am too exhausted. Oh, we've still had the occasion nighttime sex. It's not the same. I am sometimes having to use extreme self control to keep from pulling him away while he is clearing. And now he is gone again. So much traveling. When I look at this situation straight in the face, I am overwhelmed. Trying to focus on little things, trusting that this hard time will be over and our passionate life will pick back up.
I can't fight it or sit still. I may have to make a powder blue pair of full seat breaches with matching vest.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Fan Letter #2
March 21, 2012
Dear Mr. White,
Here it is, 22 months since my first fan letter. I have now seen you live. It was amazing. Everything you have for your fans, you put in the show.
You were only the second celebrity crush I have had in my life. It will sound totally phoney if I say who my teenage celebrity crush was for. At the time my crush for you started, I did not know how much you loved him as well. I was always infatuated with the man on the cover of Nashville Skyline. That album is still my favorite of his.
Everything I needed to discover with this blog, this obsession, has been found. Even things I didn't know I wanted. Here I am 22 months later, passionately in love with my husband, happy in my life, and even happy with who I am. All of it. I am happy to be me. And it all started by being surprised to suddenly have a new celebrity crush after 15 years.
So, thank you, Mr. White. Thank you for enduring the public eye to share your gifts. Thank you for playing small venues, where I was ten feet from the stage. Thank you for the energy you put into your music. Thank you for helping me reach this point in my life.
As for the obsession and this blog--I am released.
Sincerely,
Your happiest 30-something fan.
Dear Mr. White,
Here it is, 22 months since my first fan letter. I have now seen you live. It was amazing. Everything you have for your fans, you put in the show.
You were only the second celebrity crush I have had in my life. It will sound totally phoney if I say who my teenage celebrity crush was for. At the time my crush for you started, I did not know how much you loved him as well. I was always infatuated with the man on the cover of Nashville Skyline. That album is still my favorite of his.
Everything I needed to discover with this blog, this obsession, has been found. Even things I didn't know I wanted. Here I am 22 months later, passionately in love with my husband, happy in my life, and even happy with who I am. All of it. I am happy to be me. And it all started by being surprised to suddenly have a new celebrity crush after 15 years.
So, thank you, Mr. White. Thank you for enduring the public eye to share your gifts. Thank you for playing small venues, where I was ten feet from the stage. Thank you for the energy you put into your music. Thank you for helping me reach this point in my life.
As for the obsession and this blog--I am released.
Sincerely,
Your happiest 30-something fan.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
I won't forsake my husband too
Somewhere along the way I became a full-fledged groupie. Well, except for one aspect of that word. This post is about words.
Often I think that Mr. White's new penchant to frown is a way to deter women from falling in love with him. He must have realized that his smiling face is near irresistible. It doesn't work. We all love him anyway.
How do we love him? I want to meet him this weekend. He will be in town again. It is SXSW after all. And now I have the most amazing groupie pants. A friend agreed to dye the fabric for me when I could not find the right colors in the right fiber content. Today, when I started sewing the fly, I felt about to orgasm. I was getting dizzy! I had to take a break, drink some water, take a few deep breaths before I could start sewing again. They turned out too hot. Maybe they only make me hot thinking about them. Left leg is red. Right leg is black. Even the waistband is split along those lines. But that is not all. They are not a direct copy of Mr. White's jeans. These are riding breeches, otherwise know as "full seat breeches". The "full seat" is heart-shaped, white microsuede. Oh, and they are skin tight twill. Probably I will be laughed at wearing them in public. It is unlikely that they will make Mr. White want to meet me. I would like to meet him. In my absolute wildest fantasies, I refuse his sexual advances.
What is it about me that I want everyone to lust for me. I don't really want EVERYONE to lust for me. I fantasize about it, though. And then there is the word. The word I use here. The word that described me for years of my life. A word that I am no longer afraid of. Slut. I was a slut. Some people don't like that word at all, but I get to label myself. Slut. I was a slut. And that was okay.
Don't get me wrong, I haven't changed my position on what I hope for my children. I don't think the choices I made were "right". Just that they were the choices I made. Those few years of my life were not a black hole of misery. Yes, I was very sad through most of it. There were kindnesses. There are happy memories. It was life--good and bad. I don't have to hate the good, just because it was the result of bad choices. I don't have to hate anyone--including myself. I don't have to be afraid to call slut to my past self. I was a slut. I get to say it. I get to own it. I am no longer a slut.
I am no longer a slut, I just have an overactive libido and a husband, a knight, who mans up to fulfill my desires. I will not forsake him. I will not forsake my babies. It is so great being over thirty and in control of what you want. And whatever else he is, smile and all, Mr. White is not Black Jack Devey.
Often I think that Mr. White's new penchant to frown is a way to deter women from falling in love with him. He must have realized that his smiling face is near irresistible. It doesn't work. We all love him anyway.
How do we love him? I want to meet him this weekend. He will be in town again. It is SXSW after all. And now I have the most amazing groupie pants. A friend agreed to dye the fabric for me when I could not find the right colors in the right fiber content. Today, when I started sewing the fly, I felt about to orgasm. I was getting dizzy! I had to take a break, drink some water, take a few deep breaths before I could start sewing again. They turned out too hot. Maybe they only make me hot thinking about them. Left leg is red. Right leg is black. Even the waistband is split along those lines. But that is not all. They are not a direct copy of Mr. White's jeans. These are riding breeches, otherwise know as "full seat breeches". The "full seat" is heart-shaped, white microsuede. Oh, and they are skin tight twill. Probably I will be laughed at wearing them in public. It is unlikely that they will make Mr. White want to meet me. I would like to meet him. In my absolute wildest fantasies, I refuse his sexual advances.
What is it about me that I want everyone to lust for me. I don't really want EVERYONE to lust for me. I fantasize about it, though. And then there is the word. The word I use here. The word that described me for years of my life. A word that I am no longer afraid of. Slut. I was a slut. Some people don't like that word at all, but I get to label myself. Slut. I was a slut. And that was okay.
Don't get me wrong, I haven't changed my position on what I hope for my children. I don't think the choices I made were "right". Just that they were the choices I made. Those few years of my life were not a black hole of misery. Yes, I was very sad through most of it. There were kindnesses. There are happy memories. It was life--good and bad. I don't have to hate the good, just because it was the result of bad choices. I don't have to hate anyone--including myself. I don't have to be afraid to call slut to my past self. I was a slut. I get to say it. I get to own it. I am no longer a slut.
I am no longer a slut, I just have an overactive libido and a husband, a knight, who mans up to fulfill my desires. I will not forsake him. I will not forsake my babies. It is so great being over thirty and in control of what you want. And whatever else he is, smile and all, Mr. White is not Black Jack Devey.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Gestation
I think this post is going to turn out happier than I expected. I went today to visit the baby that is not mine. A baby conceived within days of our anti-miracle. A baby that was born this week. Not my baby. I did not hold her.
The last few days I have been feeling bad about this. Feeling bad about myself. Wishing my Knight were here to fuck the memories away. Feeling bad about using sex to hide depression.
Tonight I am feeling OK about that. All of it. Someone once told me that touch must be my primary form of connection to other people. That sounds true. Really, though, I don't care what's right or wrong. I don't have to understand.
Gestation is just a phase of life and it comes to an end. Maybe that is what I need to make my grown up decision. To have an end to this phase of my life. I am never going to have another baby.
Yesterday is dead and gone. I can focus on all the pain, or just remember all the kindnesses. So many kindnesses through the years. So many kindnesses to share tomorrow. If we are happy, we need never worry about what is right. Whatever new adventures to come are out of sight. We won't be facing them alone. I won't be facing them alone.
The last few days I have been feeling bad about this. Feeling bad about myself. Wishing my Knight were here to fuck the memories away. Feeling bad about using sex to hide depression.
Tonight I am feeling OK about that. All of it. Someone once told me that touch must be my primary form of connection to other people. That sounds true. Really, though, I don't care what's right or wrong. I don't have to understand.
Gestation is just a phase of life and it comes to an end. Maybe that is what I need to make my grown up decision. To have an end to this phase of my life. I am never going to have another baby.
Yesterday is dead and gone. I can focus on all the pain, or just remember all the kindnesses. So many kindnesses through the years. So many kindnesses to share tomorrow. If we are happy, we need never worry about what is right. Whatever new adventures to come are out of sight. We won't be facing them alone. I won't be facing them alone.
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