What words would I use to describe him?
Compelling.
Sexy.
Dominant.
Strong.
Smart.
Controlling.
Sadistic.
Sweet.
Loving.
Bossy. Yeah, I know, same as controlling, but it bears repeating anyway.
Determined.
Creative.
Funny.
Perceptive.
Mine.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Nice Day
My body feels sore and sated. My spirit is happy and at peace.
I feel happy with the world.
No angsty searching thinking or over-thinking post today.
Just happy.
Contentment doesn't really make for very interesting posts, does it?
I feel happy with the world.
No angsty searching thinking or over-thinking post today.
Just happy.
Contentment doesn't really make for very interesting posts, does it?
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Suddenly
We're talking, and first it's fairly vanilla, it's logistics and plans for the day.
And then it's kind of sweet. He asks me why I'm going to work early, and I say I'm going early so I have a chance to talk to him on the way, just so we get some time. And he tells me that he loves that.
And then, out of the blue he says, "I'd like to strip you now, and hurt you. And then I'd fuck you."
Wow.
My mouth fills with saliva. I'm ... suddenly I want that too.
The sadist is out. Suddenly.
Or is it that I need it?
And then it's kind of sweet. He asks me why I'm going to work early, and I say I'm going early so I have a chance to talk to him on the way, just so we get some time. And he tells me that he loves that.
And then, out of the blue he says, "I'd like to strip you now, and hurt you. And then I'd fuck you."
Wow.
My mouth fills with saliva. I'm ... suddenly I want that too.
The sadist is out. Suddenly.
Or is it that I need it?
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Welcome Home
We'd both been away and sometimes that separation makes us bad, disconnected, confused about what our relationship is supposed to be. We are jealous of the others time. We are (yes Sir, both of us) like spoiled fretful children, needing reassurance.
This time, none of that was the case. We came together well. Dominance and submission. Which comes first? I don't know. I always want it to be the dominance. He wants it to be the submission. This time, I think it was both.
He started playing with me. Hurting me just a little. Letting me know he could. Preparing me for our time together. He had me touch my nipples, gently at first, then rougher.
He was glorying in the fact that he can do whatever he wants with me. And I was wanting to push my submission at him, to offer it, perhaps even faster than he was taking it. I was loving that the choice of what to do with me, and how was his, entirely his.
He started talking to dirty to me. Calling me his fucking needy little whore. Why is that such a turn on for me? He was admiring my beautiful white tits and pretty nipples. He told me that.
It all turned me on. Made me feel so submissive, so desirous of giving him more of me. It made me short of breath, made my heart beat faster. Made my pussy swell with want.
Eventually he let me touch, for two minutes he said. I could masturbate. And somehow (where was my brain while this was happening?) it wasn't until he counted off that one minute was gone, that it occurred to me that he'd probably have let me cum if I could get there in his stingy two minutes. But by then it was likely too late. Could I get there in the remaining one minute? I felt for it. No. It wasn't there, wasn't going to be there in a minute.
So I just continued. Touching. Turning myself on for him. Making myself desire so that he could deny me.
And then, saying thank you when he did it.
What a good little sub? What a needy little whore?
He did say that I was a good girl, and that he'd give me "lots more soon".
I so want that.
Still
This time, none of that was the case. We came together well. Dominance and submission. Which comes first? I don't know. I always want it to be the dominance. He wants it to be the submission. This time, I think it was both.
He started playing with me. Hurting me just a little. Letting me know he could. Preparing me for our time together. He had me touch my nipples, gently at first, then rougher.
He was glorying in the fact that he can do whatever he wants with me. And I was wanting to push my submission at him, to offer it, perhaps even faster than he was taking it. I was loving that the choice of what to do with me, and how was his, entirely his.
He started talking to dirty to me. Calling me his fucking needy little whore. Why is that such a turn on for me? He was admiring my beautiful white tits and pretty nipples. He told me that.
It all turned me on. Made me feel so submissive, so desirous of giving him more of me. It made me short of breath, made my heart beat faster. Made my pussy swell with want.
Eventually he let me touch, for two minutes he said. I could masturbate. And somehow (where was my brain while this was happening?) it wasn't until he counted off that one minute was gone, that it occurred to me that he'd probably have let me cum if I could get there in his stingy two minutes. But by then it was likely too late. Could I get there in the remaining one minute? I felt for it. No. It wasn't there, wasn't going to be there in a minute.
So I just continued. Touching. Turning myself on for him. Making myself desire so that he could deny me.
And then, saying thank you when he did it.
What a good little sub? What a needy little whore?
He did say that I was a good girl, and that he'd give me "lots more soon".
I so want that.
Still
Monday, May 21, 2012
Relationship Advice
We went away this weekend with a lovely couple. These friends of ours are fairly recently married, about 3 years ago. Is that recent?
We've known them both for years; they are some of our oldest and dearest friends. They got together about 5 years ago and at first it was a bit weird, because... well, because I was used to thinking and seeing them both with other partners and really not with each other. But gradually we got used to how sweet they were together, and how much in love with each other they were.
Of course she is sweet with everyone, eternally positive. And he is shyer, but generally good with people, and I think he had waited for her for 30 years. Give or take.
Their version of their love story is that I introduced them. I guess I did. And at their wedding, when people asked, "friend of the bride or the groom?" I said "both!"
And now, three years later...
They are horrible with each other. Horrible. Sniping. Snapping. Snarling at each other at every opportunity.
She finds fault with everything he does. He does the same to her. Every interaction is an opportunity for criticism and meanness. Every interaction seems to open the door for them to disparage the other. They respond with exasperation. With anger or embarrassment or resentment, or with a need to prove they other wrong. They escalate. Or they call attention to how they are victimized or rather villainized by the other.
Which made me realize they were like this the last time I saw them, over Christmas.
I'm worried about them, worried about their relationship. This is horrible for their relationship.
It was uncomfortable. It was disturbing. I wanted to smooth things over, to make light of it, and make things better for them. That's what I do.
Eventually I realized that it wasn't one bad interaction, and it probably wasn't just this weekend. It's a bigger thing. This is the way they are with each other now.
Twenty times this weekend, I bit back unasked for advice. I wanted to say to them that they need to be gentler with each other. That they cannot treat each other this way 3 years into a marriage and expect it to survive. (Which doesn't mean I think it's better if it happens further into a marriage, but by then you have history, maybe you have enough highs to survive some lows. Maybe it means that your relationship has ups and downs rather than just a steady downward trend?)
I wanted to tell them that you have to be sweet to each other, to love each other, to be gentler with each other. I wanted to say that your spouse remembers every critical thing you ever say to them. I wanted to tell them to try to see the positive in each other.
I decided, each time, that it wasn't really my business to do it. That they know, surely they know that things aren't good. That they are old enough, and hopefully wise enough to find solutions without me getting in their stuff. I hope.
At the end, as we said goodbye, she apologized for the way they were, the way they are with each other. Jumping at the opening I said I was worried about them, their relationship. She said she was worried too. And then she talked about the stresses in their lives.
Yeah, the stresses are real. I agree. They suck.
But.
Your relationship still works better if you are nice to the other person in it. It works better if you are kind instead of mean. Loving instead of disparaging.
We all know this. But sometimes we forget. We lose sight of the big picture in the struggle to conquer the day to day details. But the big picture can fall apart on the accumulation of those little details.
Be loving to each other.
We've known them both for years; they are some of our oldest and dearest friends. They got together about 5 years ago and at first it was a bit weird, because... well, because I was used to thinking and seeing them both with other partners and really not with each other. But gradually we got used to how sweet they were together, and how much in love with each other they were.
Of course she is sweet with everyone, eternally positive. And he is shyer, but generally good with people, and I think he had waited for her for 30 years. Give or take.
Their version of their love story is that I introduced them. I guess I did. And at their wedding, when people asked, "friend of the bride or the groom?" I said "both!"
And now, three years later...
They are horrible with each other. Horrible. Sniping. Snapping. Snarling at each other at every opportunity.
She finds fault with everything he does. He does the same to her. Every interaction is an opportunity for criticism and meanness. Every interaction seems to open the door for them to disparage the other. They respond with exasperation. With anger or embarrassment or resentment, or with a need to prove they other wrong. They escalate. Or they call attention to how they are victimized or rather villainized by the other.
Which made me realize they were like this the last time I saw them, over Christmas.
I'm worried about them, worried about their relationship. This is horrible for their relationship.
It was uncomfortable. It was disturbing. I wanted to smooth things over, to make light of it, and make things better for them. That's what I do.
Eventually I realized that it wasn't one bad interaction, and it probably wasn't just this weekend. It's a bigger thing. This is the way they are with each other now.
Twenty times this weekend, I bit back unasked for advice. I wanted to say to them that they need to be gentler with each other. That they cannot treat each other this way 3 years into a marriage and expect it to survive. (Which doesn't mean I think it's better if it happens further into a marriage, but by then you have history, maybe you have enough highs to survive some lows. Maybe it means that your relationship has ups and downs rather than just a steady downward trend?)
I wanted to tell them that you have to be sweet to each other, to love each other, to be gentler with each other. I wanted to say that your spouse remembers every critical thing you ever say to them. I wanted to tell them to try to see the positive in each other.
I decided, each time, that it wasn't really my business to do it. That they know, surely they know that things aren't good. That they are old enough, and hopefully wise enough to find solutions without me getting in their stuff. I hope.
At the end, as we said goodbye, she apologized for the way they were, the way they are with each other. Jumping at the opening I said I was worried about them, their relationship. She said she was worried too. And then she talked about the stresses in their lives.
Yeah, the stresses are real. I agree. They suck.
But.
Your relationship still works better if you are nice to the other person in it. It works better if you are kind instead of mean. Loving instead of disparaging.
We all know this. But sometimes we forget. We lose sight of the big picture in the struggle to conquer the day to day details. But the big picture can fall apart on the accumulation of those little details.
Be loving to each other.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Pretty Is
I assume he thinks I'm pretty. I believe he finds me attractive, desirable, that he wants me. I need to think that stuff, it's part of what makes us work, part of the balance of power and desire between us, is my faith in that stuff, but I think it's actually mostly true too.
I need to feel desirable to him. I need to know he wants me. Tons of our relationship is based on sex. He won't love me saying this, so let me say it this way. Sex was the initial attraction, the initial foundation on which we built everything else. Sex was the original reason for the building.
I know there are things he would "improve" about me if he could. He'd like me thinner. I'd like me thinner. I don't seem to be doing much to get myself there, and in that absence, I sense he is about to intervene. To be fair (fair?) it's impossible for me to exercise at the moment. I have a broken foot, and the exercise I am allowed to do right now is lie on the couch and turn the pages.
Sometimes he wants me to dress sexier. Umm, I think that's partly about the look of it, partly about the power of being able to impose it on me, and partly just to know that I'm thinking of him, wanting to please him.
But I have a basic faith in my prettiness.
I'm certainly not beautiful, though of course like all the other girls I wanted to be, and still do.
I think I was a plain shy little girl. I wanted to be gorgeous with blond curls, but I was a serious little brown haired girl. By my teenage years I had figured out how to manage cute most of the time.
Some time around then I discovered life's basic beauty secrets, stand up straight, wash your hair, brush your teeth and smile.
So it's not that I think I'm gorgeous, but that I think he thinks I'm pleasing, that my appearance pleases him. Because we have this relationship where if I've pleased him I've succeeded somehow. So him thinking that I am pleasing is like a "good girl" stroke.
I'm better looking when I'm smiling. I'm a thousand times prettier when I smile. I make friends when I smile.
Is it why he picked me out of the crowd? My looks, my face, my smile? No, I don't think so.
He loves my smile, and then he loves to wipe it away. He loves to make me suffer and tremble and cry. He loves to wipe away any prettiness, in need or in sweat or in tears.
He uses my desire to be pretty, to stroke me or to humiliate me.
And oh, he loves to control it, to use it, to control me.
I need to feel desirable to him. I need to know he wants me. Tons of our relationship is based on sex. He won't love me saying this, so let me say it this way. Sex was the initial attraction, the initial foundation on which we built everything else. Sex was the original reason for the building.
I know there are things he would "improve" about me if he could. He'd like me thinner. I'd like me thinner. I don't seem to be doing much to get myself there, and in that absence, I sense he is about to intervene. To be fair (fair?) it's impossible for me to exercise at the moment. I have a broken foot, and the exercise I am allowed to do right now is lie on the couch and turn the pages.
Sometimes he wants me to dress sexier. Umm, I think that's partly about the look of it, partly about the power of being able to impose it on me, and partly just to know that I'm thinking of him, wanting to please him.
But I have a basic faith in my prettiness.
I'm certainly not beautiful, though of course like all the other girls I wanted to be, and still do.
I think I was a plain shy little girl. I wanted to be gorgeous with blond curls, but I was a serious little brown haired girl. By my teenage years I had figured out how to manage cute most of the time.
Some time around then I discovered life's basic beauty secrets, stand up straight, wash your hair, brush your teeth and smile.
So it's not that I think I'm gorgeous, but that I think he thinks I'm pleasing, that my appearance pleases him. Because we have this relationship where if I've pleased him I've succeeded somehow. So him thinking that I am pleasing is like a "good girl" stroke.
I'm better looking when I'm smiling. I'm a thousand times prettier when I smile. I make friends when I smile.
Is it why he picked me out of the crowd? My looks, my face, my smile? No, I don't think so.
He loves my smile, and then he loves to wipe it away. He loves to make me suffer and tremble and cry. He loves to wipe away any prettiness, in need or in sweat or in tears.
He uses my desire to be pretty, to stroke me or to humiliate me.
And oh, he loves to control it, to use it, to control me.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Years
Funny thing today.
We were talking about how long we have been together. He jokes and says it's at least 14 years. Uh, yeah, more like 8. Dude can't do math I guess?
It's been a good day. A connecting day. We're both feeling mellow, a little mushy.
But it has been a long time we've been together.
I say, teasing a little, but meaning it a little too, "Maybe I'm your true love?"
At the same time as he says, "You're a long term project."
Umm, what a guy.
We were talking about how long we have been together. He jokes and says it's at least 14 years. Uh, yeah, more like 8. Dude can't do math I guess?
It's been a good day. A connecting day. We're both feeling mellow, a little mushy.
But it has been a long time we've been together.
I say, teasing a little, but meaning it a little too, "Maybe I'm your true love?"
At the same time as he says, "You're a long term project."
Umm, what a guy.
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