Tell me you'll be rollin' in.

Reading female domme blogs is oddly enjoyable for me.  To love cock as I do, yet have a whole different experience.  A different side of power.

It's clear that I am submissive.  I relish giving up choice, as it's mostly a burden.  When I had free will, I could not reign back my impulse to "Big Mama".  I want to give all the weary men what they need.  Pouting is a turn off, as is complaining.  But to be that soft place a man can rest his head.  To hold him and make it all feel better for a couple hours.  That is what I fantasize about.  And I know how to help him get me off.  Men just light up when they can make me scream and feel my insides thrum to their rhythm.  For whatever brief time that it is honest, I can make him smile.  My skin longs to be touched by a man who I can fold myself around and make forget about the toil. 

The man who can call me his Big Mama, will be home tomorrow night.  My owner.  I can wrap my arms and legs around him and wash away his trip.

Or are we Dancer?

I guess Mr. White can't describe everything in lyrics.  There is a certain experience.  The first time I heard this song, when it came out a few years ago, I knew exactly what it was about for me.

The last month I have been in reset mode.  My re-adolescence complete.  I'm bored with what I'm supposed to be doing right now--which is carry on.  Is anyone really surprised by this?  When was I ever NOT bored with maintaining?  There are two directions I could go with my life at this point, that will be exciting and fulfilling for me.  Both would drastically affect the family.  After weeks of talking about this with my Knight.  Thinking about everything he says.  Thinking about it all the time.  One option, in our current family situation, has a high probability of pulling us apart in different directions.  The other will force us to all come together. 

I never kneel when I pray.  I pray whenever and however I am.  There is only one experience that has me on my knees and looking for the answer.  Only one experience that makes me feel outside humanity, separate and ethereal.  An experience particular to women. 

Sitting in my little room.

Addict

A label applied to me by a knowledgeable, trusted, professional.  Someone in the business to know. So, being me, I decided to own it.

Now I sit and wonder what is a side effect of the addiction and what is just a personality trait that may have helped the addiction along.  Is everything about me "addict"? Does "addict" cover it all?  And how much of existing in a happy life rests completely on meeting a man who could make me trust him.

*****

Someone asked about how we met and our first date.  At the completion of the story, where I reveal the important part on how the seed of trust started between my Knight and I, the one person audience says that sex in the morning is so much more romantic because it's intentional. 

BLANK STARE

Romantic sex?  A concept I have never thought about and certainly never experienced.  And every time I engaged in sex it has always been very intentional.  From that first time where I went to a friends house to have sex with him, then rescheduled for the next day after asking him if he had condoms mid-dry humping to the last man I picked up at a bar and told to be Professor Snape when he showed up at my apartment, I went into sex intentionally.  Even when I was so drunk that I don't remember how I became undressed, I walked into the room intending to have sex.  Any time that I was with a man and did NOT intend sex, sex did not happen.  One situation I have previously blogged about was extremely frightening.  Another was just sickening and another nail in the coffin of trusting men.  Sex, though, is always intentional.

So back to addiction.  Is my lack of romantic sexual experiences connected to addiction at one end or the other?  There has been romance.  Well, what I have considered romance.  Ok, so washing one of my favorite dish towels so that I can tie it around my waist and clean the kitchen is romance.  So there! Romance!  Maybe I don't understand romance.

There is love.  And trust.  Love and trust are possible.  Even for an addict.

A couple nights ago I was explaining the trust and sex conundrum to the professional who first said "addict" to my face.   If a man has sex with me, I can't trust him.  If he doesn't have sex with me, he is instantly frustrating and not worth my time. 

There, in that little space between two adults making out in a parking lot, my Knight promised that if we went back to my place, we would not have sex that night.  I didn't want to turn him into just another good man I fucked and then drove away.  He didn't want to stop kissing me.  We went back to my bed knowing that I would intend to sex and he would intend to resist.  We fell asleep together on that small bed.  He had kept his promise.  First thing the next morning--penetration.  It was not romantic.  It was validation.  I am desirable.  He can keep promises, even when it is hard to do so.

It's important to remember that little space, as our life grows and diversifies.  Remember how that little seed of trust got started, so we always know what to do.

Walkin' down the street

Late at night...

I'm not, though.  I'm home and about to explode.  Trying not to explode.  Thinking about biology.  Is this ever increasing need just a common symptom of my age?  Am I slowly approaching the famed sexual peak?  If so, how many more years of this can I stand before I'm ripped apart?  How many more years to face with it getting worse every time my knight leaves town? Seven? Ten?! Everytime I go through times that I am just scared.  I'm begging for something to take away this need.  Another baby to kill my sex drive.  At this point I am really enjoying my life and don't really want another baby.  But one would provide relief from needing sex.  Or a little pot to take the edge of the tension.  Something is going to have to give.

I'm not even ovulating this week and my heart is ripped open.  My stomach is full of knots. I can feel the fantom kisses and touches.  I'm starting to hate all my toys.  I feel so reliant on them that I want to use them more and more while having sex with my knight.  And they don't do it for me.  They don't hold me or smell like home.  They don't even smell like desire.  They smell clean.

And this is now!  It gets worse every time.  Some nights I am so scared that we won't make it through this time together.  Another decade, with my drive getting stronger every month?  And the traveling?  I'm afraid we will be ripped apart by a desire that I can only somewhat control now.

And I fought the cold.

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.

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.

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.