The sweetest gesture (to a geek)

It's no secret we met video gaming. We're both gamers -- in our own way. He's much more experienced and varied in his choices of types of games and consoles. He loves variety whereas I'm much more focused - I tend to pick a game or two and play them to death. I'll play the same games for years before I'm ready to move on.

For us, gaming has been huge. We met role-playing in our video game. (I was his female character's mom...  he used to type in group chat "MOMMY!!!!" whenever I logged in. I'd completely forgotten about this until he reminded me a couple of weeks ago.)  When we moved in, we still played the same video game, this time across the room rather than across hundreds of miles.

We also branched out to Wii games (my console) and I tried to learn to play his Xbox. I'd never even picked up a controller and it was very frustrating to learn. I tried but we kept reverting to simpler Wii games out of my frustration.  He continued to play Xbox solo.

I watched him play his Xbox. He told me about when he could afford the subscription and he would play Halo and how much he enjoyed playing and trash talking. It's not something I would ever be interested in (or even interested to hear) but I admired the skill that goes into something like that. It wasn't just the skill of playing... it was the excited passion you see when someone genuinely enjoys something. His eyes would light up.

Once I was watching him play solo and I remember seeing the "Killionaire" award flash across the screen. I didn't think much of it until I read in the news the next day how its the rarest title awarded in Halo 4 due to the difficulty of achieving it: 10 deaths in 36 seconds (each one within 4 seconds of the last). I asked him about it the next time I saw it pop across the screen. I would die to achieve that level of playing in a game I loved. To him, it was no big deal. It happened so often he'd stopped taking notice of it.

A couple of months ago, we were playing our favorite game together (Lord of the Rings Online, aka LOTRO, aka where we met) and I asked him how many points he had saved to buy an expansion that had recently come out.  (For background: he was gifted a subscription last year that awards 500 points a month to be used in the store for content, bonuses, etc. Since we're tight on cash to spend on frivolous things like extra gaming content, we'd been saving these points to buy new content.)

It turns out, he'd been spending his points on other perks rather than saving them, so he couldn't buy the content and wouldn't have the points for another three months or so. I had just purchased the content with my saved points and was really disappointed. And a bit angry. We were supposed to be saving to play content together... and now we'd have three months of gaming where he couldn't join me in this new area.

It was a huge disappointment, but not the end of the world. Three months would pass quickly.

The next day when I came home from work, he asked if I wanted to join him in playing the new content. I had no idea what he was talking about - he couldn't afford it yesterday. I asked him what had changed.

He said, "I sold my Xbox."

It took a moment to sink in. "You did what!?"

"I sold my Xbox."

"But..... WHY?"

"So we could play together," he shrugged it off.

"But.... but... your Xbox! Honey... I never expected you to...or wanted you to..."

"I know. But we don't play it together and I'm not really interested in playing solo anymore and this way we get to do everything together. I didn't like how disappointed you were yesterday."

I had no words at this point. Tears in my eyes I just hugged him. What else could I do? He just sold something that had been one of his prized possessions in order to pay for gaming content we could play together.

It's the most romantic gesture I've ever heard of or received and I can't express the incredible love I have for a man to love me so much, he'll sell his Xbox to spend more time with me.

One day, I'm going to buy him a new one.

Just another day

It's Valentine's Day... and we really don't care.

Last year was our first Valentine's Day together, I told him that if he did ANYTHING for this day, it would end up in a fight and a major problem for not listening to me.  The first time I told him, he said OK. And then after a moment's pause, he asked, "Wait... you're not doing that woman thing where you say you don't want anything, but if I don't, you'll get mad at me, right?"

"What do you think?"

"Well, you're not like that, but I'm just checking."

"I'm 100% serious. You give me anything to make this day different than any other day, you will be in big trouble."

Smart guy, he listened and the day was like no other.

I've always been this way. Growing up, I hated this day. The stupid little cards you gave to every person in your class so no one would be left out were so meaningless. What was a "valentine," anyway to a third grader? I remember one year the teacher said that giving Valentines were optional. I chose not to bring any - and I was the ONLY student in my class of 25 who didn't bring any. I felt embarrassed and mad. Signing your name to a card didn't mean you felt any one way about me. It was a stupid tradition with no point.

Every year, my mom made the day special. Every year she gave us each a personalized card and a little gift. There was always chocolate, but there was always a gift telling us how she loved and appreciated my sister and I. It was special appreciation for us as daughters. While I hated the commercialism of the day, I loved and looked forward to her gifts. She made the day special for us.

But romantic interests? In grade school it was out of place and awkward. I received one Valentine in high school from my long-distance quasi-boyfriend. It was sweet, but unnecessary. I hadn't expected it and appreciated the gesture.

All I heard about the dreaded V-day was failed expectations, sickening displays of affection that came wrapped in Made in China teddy bears and cheap chocolate candy. I just didn't care or what any part of it.

If you love me, show me every day. Make dates. Be romantic randomly. Make an effort to make any day special for us. I don't need chalky candy hearts or red and gold heart-shaped boxes to tell me how you feel. If that's the only way or time you do, we have problems.

There's no point to celebrating this mother of all fake holidays other than to support cheap manufacturing and overly sentimental romantic whims. Growing up I saw huge expectations women placed on men based on movies and media, and men hopelessly trying to figure out what to do. What was the point of this?

I can't see one. So for us, today is just a normal day. Like the other 364 or 365 days of the year, we'll do our best to further our relationship, show our love, support one another, and each take opportunities to be romantic.

Oh, and he couldn't be happier about this viewpoint. He's had the awful expectations placed on him by ex-girlfriends who wanted him to figure it out and then have it blow up in his face when it wasn't quite what they expected or wanted. He's had girls say its no big deal and then it is because, well, it's the most special day of love, how could he be so inconsiderate? So, to say the least, he's very happy.

Dating profile and the dream

The other night, two things happened while the FHF was at class.

First, I started a dating profile on OKC looking specifically for local girls to date in a possible secondary relationship.

Woah.

It took me ages to set it up. I've never ventured into online dating. I've actually never tried to find a date, things just.... happen. So I looked, browsed, answered questions, looked at some potential matches and got excited.  Excited, but too nervous to take the first step. Plus, I didn't want to send of messages with an unfinished, brand new profile. So I forced myself to work on my profile.

Several hours later, it was up. When FHF came home, I told him the news and he was happy for me and wished me luck in finding someone. I'm so excited to have his support in this!

But I'm so incredibly nervous. I feel like an idiot who is running off into uncharted territory searching for who knows what...  I don't know how to do this!? If a message does come in (or if I get up the nerve to ask someone out) - I will be so nervous. I am choosing NOT to think about that right now.

And then that night: what I remember as my first ever girl-girl dream. I've often thought that the reason I've never had a lesbian dream before is because I've never had that girl-girl experience, so I have only my imagination to go off of - but my imagination feels so limited compared that its hard to imagine it.

The dream:
I am going to a back specialist because my large boobs and the bras accompanying them have made me have back problems. I go up to the office in a large office building and the waiting room is large. In fact, it looks like a physical therapy office with a welcome desk in the center and then people all around moving in different ways. There's an odd corner of people napping in sleeping bags and I shrug it off as some weird therapy tool. I hope I get to nap too, they look so comfy.

I'm asked to wait and I wonder with all of the people in the room how long my wait will be and what exactly she'll want me to do for my back. I assume some massage and then stretching that I won't enjoy.

A woman with dark raven hair approaches me. She is wearing black heals with pointed toes, bare legs, a wool skirt to the knee, dark blouse, and a white doctor's coat that ends mid-thigh. She looks like a TV doctor: professional, beautiful, fit. Too perfect. She looks at her clipboard as she calls my name, eyeing me for conformation. I stand, and she invites me toward the back where I see there are small offices hidden along a back wall. They almost look like cubicles with doors rather than offices.

We step inside and I notice the room is bare save the carpet and a wood cupboard. So, there will be stretching and stuff I won't enjoy. And I don't see a sleeping bag, damn. 

"So, you have a girlfriend?" she asks.

I'm confused. How does she know I like women? "No," I answer, "but I have a fiance." I decide not to point out my fiance is a man and not a woman. I'd rather keep her thinking I like women.

She invites me to take off my shirt so she can examine where my bra is hitting me compared with my area of complaint and figure out how to help. I pull of my sweater, conscious of my boobs spilling out of my bra as she is turned away fumbling in the cupboard with something.

I turn away to fold my shirt and set my purse down. When I turn back around, there she is. The doctor's coat is gone, as is her skirt, and she's wearing a strap-on with harness. The dildo is pretty big. My eyes stare at it. 

"I'm sure you know what this is." I nod. She lays down on the floor. "Suck." she orders me.

I kneel down between her legs. She is wearing no underwear and the harness is framing her pussy just right. It's completely bare, freshly waxed. She has small pink pussy lips and I can see her clit peaking out at the apex. It looks slick with wetness.

"Suck," she orders again, interrupting my reverie. Her voices is strong and I don't question her authority. I wrap my lips around her dildo and start to suck slowly.

"I don't believe you. Suck like it was real. I want to imagine you wanting this dick." I lick the head and start bobbing slightly down the shaft. I'm so confused and I'm not sure what this has to do with physical therapy, but the sound of her voices makes me want to listen to her. My eyes flick up to her face and she's watching me, intensely.

I am craving her approval and wondering how far this will go. Will I be rewarded for my effort? I start taking longer strokes and trying to deep throat this dildo. It's longer than my fiance's -- there's no way I can do this. She sees my effort and encourages me with an approving "good girl."

Spit runs down the shaft as my lips pursue the end of it, reaching toward her pussy mound. I can smell her scent and its musk is delicious. I start to think about tasting it. My saliva starts dripping down the shaft and drops are spilling onto her. Once again I take a look at her and she is smiling, pleased with me. Her hands reach toward my head and she runs her slender fingers through my hair.

I look down at her cunt and see her lips are slick with wet. I want to taste her so much! I reach my hands up to grab her hips, but before I can touch her, she grabs my hands and slams them onto the floor beside her.  "No touching me today," she says. "Just suck for now."

For now. Today. So, what will happen in my future visits? 

Engaged

We went to dinner at Benihana.

We had a lovely, fun dinner.

He proposed just at the end.

I said yes.  

More to come...

No reason to rush

So, what happened to "The Rule"?

If you're unfamiliar with "The Rule" you can catch up on your reading here (where the Rule was introduced) and here (where the practicality of the Rule was questioned).  Here's a quick recap:

The Rule was that we would be together a full year before we even considered the next step of our  relationship: lifelong commitment, marriage, etc. We wanted to make sure we had seen and experienced a year together - all the ups and downs, real life, all those moments of reality that you should experience to really know someone.

Well, that year mark passed a few months ago. So, now what?

Well, we're just avoiding it for now. We do know a few things: this relationship is what we both want, forever. We do plan to get married one day. We want kids. We want to grow old together. We've actually known all this for months and all that rule breaking was hinting at it.

We do know a few things -- like we both want a proposal. I want one for the ultimate, romantic moment with my future, well, you know. I want the ring and sweet words. Why is it important? It just is for me.

It's important for him, too. His prior marriage did not start with a proposal. It was not romantic and not sweet - it was more of a demand from her which he agreed to. He wants to propose and ask me to be his. (Cue the "awwwws").

OK, so what's the wait? Well, its mostly financial at this point. He wants to buy a ring and he just started working after months of unemployment. He needs time. We can't even begin to afford a wedding and I don't want to be engaged for a long period of time. I also don't want to get engaged on day 366 of our relationship, or even day 400. (OK, those dates have passed, but you get my drift.)

We don't talk much about it. We know it will happen. For now, we're just going on in life.

 OK, so I think about it and I know what kind of ring I want. And he's seen it/them. He still calls me Mrs. ____. We can't help ourselves!

I still believe in marriage

What is so wrong with marriage?

Lately, I've noticed this huge trend on twitter where people speak out against marriage. Statements like "Wedding dress - RED RED RED" or "The day you get married is the day you die." I don't know the stories of the people who tweet these. Perhaps they were married once and it was so awful they think the whole idea is for the dogs. (Pets marrying is, I think, a really stupid idea).

I've had a marriage that was less than stellar. From what I've heard in feedback via comments and twitter, a lot of people can relate and have similar stories. Sometimes its a choice made out of stupidity, youth, being blind to reality, or sheer hope that things could change. Maybe you and your partner change so much that marriage just doesn't make sense anymore.

So, is there even a point to getting married?

Yes, I think so. I read a recent blog article by Mr. Masquerade and he is very cynical about marriage and even long term relationships. In his view, it is too restricting and you lose your independence and sense of self. You risk your dreams for someone else. And how can anyone realistically promise to love someone and stay loyal forever, when you don't know who you'll be in 5 years?  It seems that the only risk and reward to marriage is giving up so much of yourself and potentially hating your own life and resenting your partner.

Yes, those are all risks - if you do not choose your partner right or enter marriage/that relationship with the wrong view. I've already promised and then broken that promise before I'm 30. So has my boyfriend.

So why in the world would we do it all again? Well, here are my NUMBER reasons for why I still believe in marriage:

1. We've seen it work. Both sets of our parents have the same story: married too young, grew up very quickly, divorced, and then met their real life partner. Its not the ideal path and its certainly not the only way to choose a partner, but the end result is the same: His parents have been together 35 years and mine have been married 29. Both sets of my grandparents were married for 50+ years until a spouse died We've both witnessed marriage that last and are happy. A happy, loving marriage can happen, so why not for me or you?

2. I've learned from the past. What went wrong in my first marriage does not have to (nor do I intend it to) repeat itself in any future relationships. I've learned from my mistakes. Each person, hopefully, takes some learning from a relationship that did not work out. This is why you date and learn to filter out what you like/don't like about someone and use it for the next person. I learned I need a kinky sex life, flirting and attraction is much more important than I ever thought, and setting a standard for yourself is OK. I didn't deserve someone to make me feel bad about normal parts of my body. I didn't have to stay with someone who took me and my contributions for granted. I wanted someone who would be an equal contributor to our household - equal in terms of effort, not money.

3. I can be realistic. People are, by definition, fallible. At some point someone's going to mess up and you're going to argue. Misunderstandings, miscommunications, disagreements, and arguments are all a part of LIFE. The trouble with a relationship is you have to learn how to work through this and not let it break you. I've seen couples break up over some really stupid things. If any relationship is going to work, you have to understand the whole person: not just the good that you love, but the bad that will come with it. I have flaws, so does my BF. Every day we work around them and every day we make it.

4. It's not about losing, it's about gaining. Going from Ms. to Mrs. does not mean I am giving up who I am. I am bringing all of me into a relationship and I am being joined by someone bringing all of himself. He knows what I want in life. I know what he wants. We both have goals, together and separate. Marriage is about supporting one another in those goals. Yes, that may mean I have to put my goals on hold why he works on something or we work on something together. This delay would not exist if I were single, but I am gaining the opportunity to support the person I love most in the this world to do something they want - how could I not support that? And he will do the same for me. I'm gaining my own cheerleader, support system, advice-giver, listener, cook, cleaner, errand-runner, bill-payer, back-rubber, friend, and travel companion. What am I losing that compares to all that? Not much. 

5. It's easier, legally speaking. Let's be honest: marriage makes everything (most things?) easier, legally speaking. No one questions the "husband" or "wife" when an important decision needs to be made. In case of a medical emergency, that is the person I want by my side and making decisions if I'm incapacitated. I get tax breaks for being married. Even in death its easier to divvy up belongings if you're married and have a legal claim to it rather than "but we've been together for X years." Time together does not a marriage make (common law marriage excluded of course). For those reasons alone, I want marriage -- and its a major reason why gay marriage is important. It's not always about love and romance. It's just practical.

6. It's two against the world. When you're married, you have a partner, another half of a couple. Together you face whatever happens in life. That person is your source of comfort and joy. They are there to take the stress off you if they can just as you would do the same. It's best friends with deep, emotional benefits. To put it in geek terms, you are the tank to the other's healer. It's about partnership and using your strengths to bolster each other and face life decisions together.

7. It's making a public promise. There's a reason why a lot of marriages start with a wedding: there's something beautiful about two people publicly declaring they are going to spend their lives together. I'm not here to say whether you should write your vows to say "forever" or "until we decide otherwise." I've seen both and its really up to you what you want to promise. The thing is, marriage is a contract. It has to be upheld by both parties to be valid. Both parties are saying they will do X and Y and Z and therefore will expect X and Y and Z in return. You decide what X and Y and Z includes. Vows are not one size fits all and not all vows are public. Do you have to promise to love only that person forever? Not if you're polyamourous. Do you have to promise to fuck only your partner forever? Not if you're a swinger. Your marriage, your rules.

8. I promise to try.  Change happens. It's not always easy and it may not be what you expect. As time progresses, so do we. We change in our relationships, in our jobs, in our preferences. As we age our priorities might change. Having a child may introduce a whole new side of you - the parent you - you didn't know existed. This might be where marriage is kicked hardest in the nuts. We've all seen or heard stories of "We grew apart" or "I didn't know him/her anymore." It can happen. What matters is - do you try and work through it, or do you call it a good run and part ways? For some, its better if they separate. Forcing two people together for the sake of someone other than both of them is pointless. But the point of marriage is: did you promise to try? Try to work together, talk it out, experience it together, try to understand, try to improve? Not every try will be a success (sorry, Yoda), but the point will be: you made an effort. You can not anticipate what the next 5 years will do to your marriage. If something goes out of balance, whether with your interest, communication, honesty, or relationship, the changes could be devastating. You have to trust that your partner isn't going to let that happen just as you will try to do the same. Its a road that's walked together, but the path is rarely straight and clear of obstacles. Will you try to try and cross them?

I think that sums it up. I plan to be married again one day.  Ideally, you're best friends with the hottest sex life and only a few bumps in the road. I could go on and on about finding the right partner - but I am not you. Only you can decide what you want. Partnership in life is beautiful.

Marriage isn't for everyone. I can't force you to get married and you shouldn't tell me who I can and cannot marry. Not every marriage should last forever, that's why divorce was such a great idea. Right now, I think the statistics state that about half of marriages end in divorce. That's a huge fail rate. However, that means that half of marriages last. Is it always happy and healthy? No - but that is the fault of both partners. I've experienced the failure of a marriage and I definitely had a share of the blame in that failure.

I have no intention of repeating that mistake. And this time, the relationship is completely different.

The divorce

I remember what it felt like to snap. That moment where you're done with reasoning and excuses. The line is drawn and you step across it, knowing there's no way back. The line where betrayal and pain main any future look brighter than your current experience. It went something like this:

It had been a long day, too long. Micah*, my husband, was already home like he always was, but I knew better than to assume dinner had even been thought of.  I knew he would be home because the part-time "internship" he worked at usually had him home by early afternoon and he was always reading or video gaming when I walked through the door.

Oh, the "internship." Two graduate degrees and he was interning at a start-up that couldn't afford to pay him more than a flat rate that just covered his student loan payments. There was the promise of "it could become successful" and he would hopefully be rewarded for his efforts, but that was a big if in the current economy.

I knew work was hard to find; all of his law school friends were unemployed save one. Two years in a Masters program and three years of law school with zero real world experience made finding work awfully difficult. I regretted our agreement. Back in college when we were dating freshman year and engaged before our junior year, we both knew we wanted grad school. We had decided that, since I was undecided, he would go while I worked and then we'd switch.

Yeah, right. I upheld my end of the deal. I'd found full-time employment two months after graduation. In five years I'd worked my way up through several promotions and made something of myself. I'd also decided what I wanted to do for a real career and had been waiting for my chance. He, on other hand, hated his first grad program and proceeded with law school, only to declare his final year he didn't want to be a lawyer.

When graduation day came, his parents and my parents were there to congratulate him. Micah didn't even thank me. No acknowledgement of the years I'd delayed for him, the hours I'd worked, the life I'd made possible. I'd asked very little of him during those five years. He didn't clean except on special occasions. He rarely cooked. I ran all the errands and handled all the bills. He never worked, even during summer breaks when all he did was watch TV and play video games.

But once grad school was over, there were no job prospects. The "internship" was enough to pay that bill, but what about the rest of our bills? Where was my "break" where I could go to school or take a real vacation that didn't include his parents? It vanished.

I tried, I really did. I asked my mentor and one of the best managers I'd had to dinner to talk with him about finding his passion and how to interview. One of my friends who worked in recruiting in HR interviewed him and coached him for 3 hours plus two pages of typed notes on his resume and ways to approach employers about how his school experience could benefit a real life job.

And then he did nothing. No job searching, not even any review of the information that had been handed to him. What would cost others hundreds he just tossed aside. I sent him a variety of jobs I'd found, trying to figure out what he wanted or, at the least, could handle. Each was met with reasons why he didn't find it appropriate or beneath his level of education.

I walked into the door from my long day of work. It was only a Monday. He had made a promise to me yesterday he would job search today after he neglected it all weekend. I had cried several times over the past few weeks over the stress of my job and stress of keeping up with bills and terror we would never stop this endless cycle of debt. Surely he would have some better news for me today.

As I expected he was playing video games. I was a game geek myself and addicted, but I never let my job or our financial future hang in the balance on a game. I was responsible for a lot. He barely noticed me walk in the door. I set my stuff down and asked about his day. He hadn't gone to work; his back was hurting so he'd stay home to use the heating pad on it.

"So, did you look for jobs today?"

"No, my back hurt. If I could have gone to work I would have looked at jobs."

Snap. There it was. That last string. I walked out of the room, fuming.

So, he can't work and can't online job search, but he can play video games for hours? After he promised? What I felt was hot ice filling up the core of my body. I felt almost disembodied from the moment. I can't believe this is happening. But it was. Six years of marriage and I'm still the only adult here. Six years of my life gone. To nothing.

I had to do this very carefully. I went into the bedroom and quietly packed my smallest suitcase. My mind was a whirl of items I would need to survive several days without every coming back to our apartment. Pillow. Cell phone charger. Brush. Toothepaste. Work clothes. PJs. Underwear. Oh! I almost forgot socks... Everything else I needed was in the office, with him.

I walked in, quiet, not looking at him. I turned on my computer, like I normally would as if I were about to play video games myself. Instead, I booked a hotel room using the reward points I'd been saving for a trip to Europe - we had enough for a full week's stay free. Too late, now they would keep me away from him. I booked the hotel. Cleared browser history. OK. He didn't have the login info and the confirmations went to my email, which he didn't know the password to. Check. It was time to go.

I left the room to retrieve my laptop bag, steadied myself, and then went back into the office and packed as fast as I could. Laptop. Charger. Pens. Done.

"What are you doing?"  Crap!

"I'm packing my bags." Oh no... my voice cracked and tears sprung to my eyes. What I had dreaded for years was about to happen.

"What do you mean, packing a bag? Where are you going?" He noticed my emotional climate. He knew something was terribly wrong.

I couldn't hold back anymore. I erupted into angry sobs. "I'm leaving you!" And I turned and dashed out of the room. My suitcase and purse were already in the entryway, waiting for me. It was time to go.

"Wait... What? No, wait... Why? WHY are you doing this?" He was full of panic.

"Because...." in sobs, "because! You made a choice today. You can't work and you can't job search, but you can play video games for hours?"

I waited. "Well... its different... I mean, no, wait, don't go! STOP PLEASE."

He had grabbed my suitcase. There was no way he could stop me now. "DON'T MICAH. Don't you DARE hold me back. I'm staying somewhere local but I'm not telling you where. Don't you DARE follow me. Don't come and find me." I marched down the stairs, heaving my suitcase, laptop, and purse, barely seeing through the stream of tears going down my face.

He called after me, and watched me march out to my car, pack my bags, and drive away. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

I made sure he didn't follow me. I could barely see the road so one hand swept tears away as the other drove the car. When I checked into the hotel, the clerk asked me if I was OK. I was, I said. But I'd just left my husband. And then I broke down. The expression on his face was awful, but I knew it could not compare to the pain I felt at this moment.

Six years of marriage. Nine altogether. My whole life from age 17 to 26 had been entirely his and it had all been a waste.

When I got to my room I let the tears just fall and the loud sobs and screams of anguish racked through me. When I could talk I called my parents to tell them what had happened. They were shocked, but surprisingly supportful. For months I had been telling them of my complete despair over his lack of action and complete disinterest in changing.

I logged into my video game to tell my favorite kinmate why I wouldn't be gaming much this week. He was disappointed and very concerned and I told him the entire story. He wasn't so surprised, he'd heard my frustrations for months in private chat. He supported me and wanted to be there for me. It was a small comfort. Aside from my parents, it was the only friend I told.

Nothing was final. I'd booked the hotel through Friday, but was clueless what would happen next. We had no family nearby. My greatest hope was that, if things stayed the same or grew worse, a co-worker would open her home to me.

Two days passed and I contacted him to let him know I was OK and still local and had no idea what to do. He asked if we could talk and I agreed to meet him in the parking lot of the hotel. He wanted me back and wanted me to stay. Nothing would be fixed if I didn't come back, he argued. He now understood how important it was that he do something else. In the back of my mind, I remember slight shock at this remark and thinking: It took THIS to make you realize that? 

Then again, my voice had fallen on his deaf ears a lot it seemed. It had started with him getting the wedding he and his family wanted and me going along with it as a nice gesture to him. I thought it was a waste of money - and when the day came and I realized it was probably a mistake to get married at 20 one month after college graduation, all I could think was the expense of cancelling it and maybe I just.... owed us and our families for all the trouble to see if it could work.

And then on our wedding night, we were both disappointed. We were both virgins (yes, REALLY), and although we'd done all sorts of kissing and licking, he'd never penetrated me, even with a finger. We rushed into sex, two virgins desperate to find out what the "big deal" was. My words as soon as it was over (about a minute later) were, "It kinda hurt" and "That's it?" I pushed for it twice more that night, hoping that it would get better. Nope. It hurt less each time, but it wasn't that much fun. He could have cared less. We had sex once more on our 10 day honeymoon.

From there we had sex maybe once a week. I found that, instead of being the normally cuddly person I am, I didn't want him to touch me, which was hard in a queen sized bed. We upgraded to a king as soon as we could, and I introduced the "middle" pillow which effectively blocked him from ever touching me. We had sex once a week for about a year, then it dwindled to once a month when I couldn't stand my level of hornyness. I'd gone from masturbating daily as a single woman to orgasming once a month and hating every minute of it.

At year three, I'd come to terms with the fact that I was not attracted to him and probably never had been. We'd never flirted and every attempt he made grossed me out and turned me off so much. I couldn't even bring myself to try; it was too funny and awkward and not in a sexy or good way!

I told him at year 3.5 I wasn't attracted to him. I had to - sex was infrequent and I was having sex dreams about other men and past romantic interests. I was unable to turn my eye from other men and women in public and porn - neither of which he approved of, of course. He wasn't sure what to do about it, and less than six months later he would brag after sex how attractive he was to me (obviously!) and how happy that made him. I never corrected him; it seemed cruel and it would expose the fact I was just using him.

He didn't approve of a lot in sex. I'd tried to introduce toys and very light kink like restraints into our sex life, hoping it would spice it up to give us both the urge and enjoyment. He turned everything away in disgust and fear. I wasn't allowed to buy a vibrator that was bigger than his average penis for fear it would stretch me out too much and decrease his enjoyment.

He hated the way I tasted. He wouldn't perform oral sex unless I had just showerd and he could constantly wipe me out with a wet washcloth and then after a couple of minutes he would be unable to continue due to the gross taste. This was, perhaps, the most hurtful and painful aspect of our marriage. To be rejected on such an intimate level was... numbing. I kept telling myself I could live without it.

But I couldn't. In reality I wanted to enjoy sex, have kink, be able to flirt, be able to embrace my bisexuality and enjoy a woman. I wanted a partner who respected my views.

When he asked me to come back with promises to work on things, I said I needed to think about it. The next day he came over and asked us to start couples counseling to try and work on these problems WE had. He didn't want to lose me.

Counseling. For two years during our marriage I'd gone to counseling for myself. I had no backbone and was completely codependent on whoever I saw as the authority figure. It used to be my parents; now it was him. I had no individual opinion or voice. I assumed a problem was my fault in some way, so it was my responsibility. Counseling helped me change that, ever so slowly. It took years but I came out of it with this blossoming that, ironically, Micah said he loved about me. I was still me, but with my own voice in this world.

A voice that was done tolerating a "partner" who was really a grown child expecting the easy life, it seemed. Marriage counseling was not a place I really wanted to go. I'd researched attraction and everything I saw was about reconnecting what had been there -- but there had been nothing there. No flirting, no romance. Nada.

As his parents and my parents would later argue, how could you be together so long if that were the case? I was seventeen when we started dating. We'd started dating from peer pressure. We hung out enough that everyone thought we were dating, so we'd agreed to see if they were right. We had actual fun together and grew very close, even into best friends.

But best friends do not necessarily make lovers, as I had found out. And forcing yourself to see a lover when you had no interest in one being there was completely backwards and crazy.

I knew I had a choice. But I also wanted to live at home. Hotel living was terrible and left very few lounging and food choices, so I agreed to counseling and went home on Friday.

Over the weekend life continued as it always had. I had private chats with my kinmate, who was encouraging me to divorce. A lot of good points were made, I had to admit. And now that I had seen a taste of freedom and given myself time to think and reflect, it sounded very good.

My kinmate was unashamedly flirting with me in private chat. This wasn't very new or surprising; during voice chat, which came out over my computer speakers, he hit on me and flirted with me constantly. Micah had heard it for months and it didn't bother him; nor did it bother him when I flirted back. That was weird and backwards, but it felt so good to flirt again! And now this private chat was going very naughty... and I didn't stop.

On Sunday night, the kinmate asked to see my picture. I had been driving him crazy for months and all this flirting was making him go crazy. I facebook messaged him. He wrote back that I was a very beautiful woman and he was falling very hard for me.

The kinmate told me Monday night he thought he was in love with me.

On Tuesday, I asked for my divorce. It was easier than leaving Micah the first time. I was more like a cold stone, resolute in my decision now. It was done. I would be free.

Less than four weeks later and a few days before our seven year anniversary, Micah moved out. It took a while since he had no job, barely any money, and no family nearby. We lived together, uncomfortably, those few weeks, avoiding each other. We divided up our belongings and money very fairly. We didn't have a single argument. I went to six counseling sessions with him to help him get closure and understand what was happening. The counselor was set on reconciliation and gave him false hope that, if we promised not to file for a couple months, we might rethink things. I said no constantly to this and filed six weeks later. He was devastated I didn't wait the full eight weeks I had apparently promised to.

In counseling, and several times a week, I explained my history of attraction, self discovery, and the reality of how he was a best friend to me - but not a lover. I pointed out our mutual history and, with apologies, the brutal truth of how much I was disappointed by and hated our sex life. His touch literally repulsed me. He held constant that, with time and counseling, that could change.

All I could think was, Why would I put myself through that? After all this time?

I couldn't. I was done giving, trying, hoping, waiting. When I had known three years prior that I wasn't attracted to him, I cried almost every day in private, knowing it was going to end at some point. I'd given myself years to come to terms with this. By the time I'd said divorce, it was done. I didn't need to heal very much at all.

What hurt the worse was seeing the toll it took on Micah. I had been his first everything. EVERYTHING. I had hidden my feelings from him and let time go by without telling the truth. He may not have been ideal, but I had been completely cruel in my communication and honesty with him about how things really were. I had faked years of being a loving wife. Of course I'd loved him, but not as a wife would.

To this day, I miss him. Nine years is a long time to spend with someone and an almost daily basis. We had so many happy memories. In everything but romance and intimacy we were completely compatible. He had been my closest friend and confidant, my biggest supporter for so many things. When he left a small part of me felt like, and feels like, its permanently broken and damaged. We had killed something beautiful.

Both sets of parents were against the divorce. His family quit talking to me; I couldn't blame them. I found out months later they used mutual friends on facebook to spy on me and report back to Micah on my life. He asked them not to, and them asked me to block them when they wouldn't listen. My parents went from somewhat supportive to completely against my decision. I gave them the PG details of everything that was wrong; they refused to believe it could be as bad as I painted it.

Our divorce was relatively quick and painless. Sixty-one days after I filed, the papers were signed and it was over. No lawyers were needed. Even after all the hurt and anger, we still managed to be decent to each other.

The kinmate, if you hadn't guess, is now my BF. He and I met in-person two weeks after Micah moved out. To most the timing is surprising. It seems too fast, too much of a rebound.

Was I cheating on Micah with the BF? Perhaps. But Micah knew about the kinmate who flirted, listened to it happen, and even asked if I was going to date him after he moved out. I told him the truth: yes, I wanted to do that and probably would. Technically no papers were signed and nothing was official; but paperwork does not have to reflect real life to make something authentic.

I do know this: I never want to experience anything like that again.

*Name changed, of course.

TMI Tuesday: Can we just be friends?

1.     Have you ever had a friendship with a someone where you secretly (or not so secretly) desired them?
 Absolutely! In high school I had a crush on several guys who were my friends. I couldn't help it - they were sweet, fun, and hot. I even got the nerve to tell a couple of them I liked them. One of the turned into a pity date (it was sweet but yeah, neither of us wanted more than that one date) and the other turned into a very complicated relationship. I haven't told that story, and I'm not sure I ever will at this point.

2.     Are you prone to jealousy, suspicion or insecurity when your partner spends time with an attractive close friend without you? Why?
No, I'm not. I fully trust him and I don't regulate his friendships or people he talks to without me. We operate on full disclosure, and he has no problems telling me if he thinks she's attractive (and in how many ways) and how things went. I do the same. Neither of us has anything to hide or worry about with our other half being out with anyone attractive. Since we're bisexual, if we had this concern it would have to be with anyone in the world. That's too exhausting!

3.     Has a previously platonic friendship ever bloomed into a sexual relationship?
Yes. This is how my ex-husband and I started. We were platonic friends and started dating from peer pressure of "Well, you hang out enough to be." It was the first sexual relationship for either of us. My mistake was confusing interest in sex for interested in him.  

4.     Have you ever remained close friends with an ex-lover?
No, I'm not really friends with my ex-husband. I tried as he was and had been in that "friend-zone" for a while, but it only ended in him getting vicious with his words from all the hurt I caused him... so that's on hiatus. It's a shame - in so many ways he could be a really good friend. He always was and I'd like him to be.

I've remained friends with that complicated relationship from high school I mentioned in #1. He was my first love but we knew it would never work out, so we refrained from a sexual relationship. I think that restraint helped us stay friends afterwards. We stayed in touch consistently. He came to my wedding, and asked me to meet a potential fiancee as he wanted an old friend's opinion since he didn't have any other older friends in the area to meet her. I'm invited to his wedding in January. I've loved that, despite the high emotional component of our relationship, we readjusted back to friends.

Bonus:  Have you ever developed feelings for a “friend with benefits”? How did it develop, unfold, resolve?
No. I don't think I could do this type of relationship.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Recap: His parents visit

His parents came to visit us, the first time they've done that. We have visited them three times as a couple. The first time I met them was when we were packing up his apartment to move in with me - only three weeks after we had met for the first time! At the time I was afraid they would be against such a quick decision on both our parts, but I've never seen any hesitation or distrust in our relationship, or dislike of me. In fact, quite the opposite.

Most hilarious moment:  We were giving his parents the grand tour of our home, and BF showed them our giant master closet. What is in the center of the doorway? BF's pink high heel shoes! Both parents notice them, and his dad asks me, "Do you actually wear those?" So I lie and say yes, but rarely since I have a weak ankle. In my head my thoughts are as follows: Oh no! We forgot those.... Should I excuse them as "fuck me" heels? NO I CAN'T SAY THAT!!! Oh please don't ask me to try them on... or put them on... they are 4 sizes too big! He didn't ask, and later I threw them on my side of the closet with my other heels. I hope they didn't look closer or they would notice the size difference.

Saddest moment:  On talking colors, I mention something about BF wearing pink, and his dad's homophobia rears its ugly head where he tells me I better not "change his son into a... you know, 'fairy.'" His mom speaks up and reminds dad that BF wore pink as a little boy. Dad shuts up, but its not the only time he makes that kind of comment. BF will never be able to come out as bisexual publicly.

Sweetest moment: 
Friday night, about 30  minutes after arriving from their 14 hour drive, his dad said to me:

If it had been ANYONE else who had made him move so far away, I'd kill 'em. 

Yummiest moment:  We introduce his parents to Middle Eastern food, specifically to some spiced lamb kebobs cooked by a Jordanian man at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. They are blown away by how good it is.

Oddest moment:  At some point we talked about arguing, as we've been doing more of that lately. I fully admitted a lot of it is due to me not letting go of work stress and letting my extra sensitivity affect our relationship. His mom was shocked and said, "I thought you two didn't fight!?" We both laughed and said we do, but its never anything serious or close to relationship ending (like we see on facebook with his older siblings - frequently). She was still surprised, and I'm not sure why she would assume we never fight.

Most loving moment:  My BF and I gave up our bed for his parents for 2 of the 3 nights. His dad has a very bad back and we didn't want him to suffer. His mom can sleep anywhere, no problem. They tried to fight our decision but we over-ruled them. This left me on the couch and my BF on a twin air mattress. 

I could barely sleep, my "princess and the pea" sleeping habits prevented it. Every position felt uncomfortable and awkward. I tossed and turned.  The second night I could barely sleep and I finally sat up and starting crying out of frustration. I realized part of my problem was that I was missing my teeth-guard (I grind my teeth at night) and without that, I never slept well.  It was locked in our bathroom inside our bedroom where his parents were sleeping. 

He heard my restlessness and woke up. 

"What's wrong, beautiful?"

I vented my frustration and lack of sleep, then told him of the missing teeth-guard. He asked where it was and I told him.

He was up and gone before I realized he wasn't lying down anymore. He came back down stairs, placed the teeth-guard in my hand, kissed my forehead, and told me he loved me. 

I was moved. Middle of the night quest to help me sleep and relax. I wasn't going to wake him or ask him to do it. I didn't expect it of him. He held my hand as we laid back down in our respective beds, and I fell asleep for a few peaceful hours.

It's amazing what love can do.

Assumptions and respect

A few days ago, Mina started a trend among bloggers and tweeters about what assumptions people make about us. I couldn't think of anything until the next day when some assumptions became very  apparent.

One thing I've noticed is, even though I disclose that I'm in a relationship with someone on my twitter profile, a lot of people assume:

1. We are in an open relationship or, kinky means poly. I don't say whether we are or not, but there is an assumption that we are. Apparently being on twitter and talking about sex means we're both ready and open for any other partners. 
2. I am looking for other partners. This is really an assumption I've seen men make. A lot. This isn't just saying how they think I'm attractive or how they love that I'm open minded, or even how what I post on twitter, tumblr, or my blog is sexy. No, it's completely assuming that I'm not only looking for a date, but that the way I want to meet someone is via twitter and it's totally normal to be asked out within 5 minutes of the first "Hi" they tweeted to me. It's presumptuous and rude, in my opinion. I just met you 5 minutes ago, why do you think this is enough information to go on so we can go have drinks?
3. I want to sext with you. Obviously when I talk about MY sex life, that means I want to send you sexy messages so you can get off, right? No. I don't. I'm not here to be chat with you and help you cum. I post plenty of stuff on my blog that should help you, you don't need my personal interaction.

Now let's talk about respect. Making assumptions and acting on them is a rude. I guess that's a sign of our culture - the female is the prey, the male is the hunter? Is it assumed that because I like sex I'll be a slut for anyone and I'm just ready to jump into bed with ever offer that rolls in the door? This type of attitude isn't sex positive at all. It doesn't treat me with respect or even consider how I might take such an offer - or what your assumptions are about me and any other woman you randomly happen to meet.

Lately on tumblr I've been seeing more posts with captions that share this disturbing trend of disrespecting women:

"My bitch of a girlfriend sucking cock."
"Asian bimbo looks ready to fuck."
"Slut bitch just ready to be used and have her holes filled."

I'm not going to deny there's a time and place for name-calling. I love to use dirty talk myself - during sex where it can be incredibly hot. But these are captions on images of women that you know or don't know (I don't know which is worse). Do you know anything about her? Do you think she wants to be called or likes to be called this by a complete stranger?

Just because her image is out there does not mean its appropriate to label her how you see her. These labels aren't friendly or respectful. You're making assumptions off of one photograph and a fleeting moment. The Asian girl had large, obviously fake breasts - so that makes her a bimbo? And the other girls are obviously enjoying themselves during sex - why does that make them a bitch or a slut?

All I think about when I see these captions or labels on images is how women are seen as tools for one use: sexual gratification. They are dehumanized through words. It shocks me because its so inappropriate and yet I can't say I'm surprised. I'm disappointed, for sure.

But then, is assuming I want to jump you because you said, "Hey, ur sexy" on twitter any different?

Doomed to fail

It is wise to recognize that we cannot control the choices of others and that some need to learn for themselves.

It's just not easy to stand by and watch both happen. It's 5am and I've been awake nearly an hour trying to settle my thoughts and emotions. One of my closest friends is in a relationship that has been a whirlwind of emotional turbulence. There's lots of passion, both in and out of the bedroom. They both have tempers and the stubborn will to go with them.

I realize that, for some people, this type of relationship may work - fight, make up, fight, make up more... but then I hear what happens when they're angry with each other. She says the meanest things that she can think of. He walks out and won't return for hours. He denies there's a problem. She lets it go because she can't stand him not talking to her about anything.

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Then a big fight happens. The kind where you are still arguing 4 hours later and you don't even know what you're arguing about because you've got 4 separate arguments snowballed into one. She called to talk because, twelve hours later, they weren't speaking primarily because he wouldn't talk (his typical pattern). She trusts my relationship advice and wanted my input.

I've been in a crappy relationship where I kept hitting my head against the wall and saying, "Why doesn't it work? I must fix something as I must be the problem." The truth is, I was a part of the problem in not realizing that I deserved better. She is doing the same thing. I can see it so clearly: rationalizing and excusing away behavior because you can't face the brutal truth. The relationship is made of fail.

I offered her two things when we talked the night of the big argument. One, I would kick him to the curb. She may not be a saint in the relationship herself, but someone has to end it and if he's going to not talk, then she may as well have the final word.  Second, the whole pattern sounded like emotional abuse to me.

I'm not an expert in abuse by any means. However, all I heard from her is how he would repeated ignore and deny problems until she initiated conversation where she started admitting fault and was basically desperate to not let things fall apart. She begs him not to ignore her because when he does, she can't eat or sleep. She just waits, unable to move on in life without him. And waits. And waits. Sometimes she waits overnight and well into the next day.

Finally, at some point, he apologizes and agrees to work on things and get better and stop being such a douche, even though she's well aware by now that the pattern is doomed to repeat itself later.

She's not isolated from friends or family, except she's not allowed to have any male friends. No talking. No emailing. The guys relationship status is unimportant, if there's a penis on the person she's not allowed to call him friend. She's cut all of her guy friends out of her life for him. I asked her if she would be friends with them if they ever broke up or weren't in a relationship and without hesitation she answered yes.

When I said, "This sounds like emotional abuse" ... she answered, "You know, that's occurred to me."

Well, if it's occurred to you, then maybe it's the truth. She came so close that night to ending things with him. Three days later they had made up completely. And now, two weeks later I found out they went and purchased a ring for the impending engagement.

It makes me sick to my stomach.... I can almost predict the fail that's going to happen.

I'm pretty sure she's so enraptured in this relationship and the idea of getting engaged and married she'll actually go through with it on this hope and prayer that he will change and that all this happiness outweighs the incredible drama and toll it takes on her emotionally.

I've told her my past and history. It was never abusive but it was definitely unhappy. I hate to see her make the same mistake of tying yourself to someone you shouldn't, Connecting to a mismatch so great that it will only end in a scar of pain once it finally ends.

It's doomed to fail, and all I can do is sit on the sidelines and watch. My heart aches for her already.

One plus Two Equals Three

Three.

Funny how adding one makes such a difference! Yesterday I posted about our first threesome. I told you want happened, but now I need to share our thoughts and reactions.

We knew this day would come. From before our relationship started, we had talked about this happening. Back then it was more a him+guy and me+girl with the other partner present to observe as the way of sharing more than an actual threesome where we're both involved. We're both bisexual, we both want to have fun with our own gender.

But in the past six months, we've started talking about more than just that. We've talked about him sharing me with other men. There are some real life men out there he would really like to share me with. In our mutual masturbation fantasies, there's talk of making me a cum slut where I just get fucked and fucked by one guy after the next. Its a very hot fantasy we both enjoy.

As much as I want my time with a woman, I'm not sure I can share him with another woman. My boyfriend understands my point of view. Every time we discuss this, he tells me its not important to him and whatever my comfort level and decision is, he will be happy with it. I love that freedom to safely say how I really feel and have that automatically accepted and appreciated.

Our first threesome experience wasn't what either of us would have guessed it would be. Pegging? Of all the sexual acts I would never have guessed that to be my first experience with another man. Pegging requires a lot of communication and trust between partners. I don't adovcate just shoving anything into an oriface; but working a dildo into the ass of someone you met five minutes ago makes the stakes really high in terms of comfort and trust.

During our initial conversation, Mr. A mentioned that women typically want to sit and talk before jumping in to sex whereas men are much more of a "Hi" then drop your pants and jump into sex. The more I thought about this, the more it struck me why it was so important to me.

I don't like casual sex.

I've never had casual sex before. For me, sex is too intimate to just happen randomly. Both of my partners (prior to the threesome) were the result of a loving relationship. I never let anything physical happen without those feelings in place.

With Mr. A, even though I barely touched him, even holding his legs while pegging him was... uninteresting. I think the reason why he wasn't interested in finishing with me pegging him was because I was noticeably disinterested. It meant nothing to me and I didn't want to be involved very much.

I loved watching my boyfriend interact with Mr. A. That was very hot and it made me so happy to see him so pleased. He really enjoyed it sucking cock and having his own sucked. However, he could tell how I wasn't as into it as we thought I would or could be. I think my disinterest lowered his enjoyment a bit.

My boyfriend has had one night stands in the past. He's not where I am in terms of needing that connection to enjoy it. However, I think our relationship is so close and so happy that this experience was just sex and having that direct comparison made it just pale in comparison.

In the end, there's no replacement for intimacy in a sexual relationship.

Will we still play with others? Absolutely. That hasn't changed. But next time, I think we both want those extra partner(s) to be people we know, like, and can connect with person to person.

My favorite parts of the weekend

So many fun, sexy, and loving happy things happened this weekend that I wanted to share all of them. So here is a quick look at just what has made me smile over the past 48 or so hours:

Friday night: Being greeted as soon as I'm home from work and cooking dinner together. We chat about my day and share kisses and gropes while we cook. I make taco meat while he preps the veggies. I talk about my frustrations about work, and he supports me and encourages me.

As we're eating, he reminds me that I'm intelligent and beautiful, and there are many reasons that he loves me besides these two.

Many times while playing video games that night he tells me he loves me.

He begs me to get off the computer after too long at the computer. I complain that I'm having fun video gaming, and he tells me that he wants more time one-on-one with me. It's been a long week and he wants lots of cuddles on the couch tonight. The way he asks is not demanding or expecting of me; its a simple request. The look in his eyes and the touch of his hand in my hair when he asks is so sincere, I melt. We sit on the couch to watch some TV and cuddle. We give each other back massages. I end up falling asleep and he wakes me up to go to bed as soon as he notices.

I'm so tired when we go to bed, but he is horny. He holds me on his chest as he jacks himself off. I play with his balls and his whole body responds to my ball massage. He grips me to his chest and I fall asleep hearing him moan my name.

Saturday morning, I wake up from being too hot from cuddling. I think we cuddled almost all night. He wakes up with my stirring and gives me a good morning hand job that ends in him eating me out until his face has disappeared in my cunt.

We realize we woke up much earlier than normal, and end up taking a nap only a few hours later. Our nap is followed by some TV time on the couch. At some point he can't take any more of me being naked reaching over to paly with his dick and he ends up fucking me on the couch in 3 different positions for about 15 straight minutes. I cum several times, but my clit is feeling the need to orgasm, so I retreat to the bedroom to masturbate. He wanders in finding me almost asleep again and tells me to enjoy my day off.

Later he tells me we need to go out to dinner, he knows I need some relaxing time out. He drives me to our favorite restaurant and we share the same sweat in the booth, often with me resting my head on his shoulder and his arm around me. Sometimes we sit in silence, just enjoying each other.

Later that night, when he's grabbing dessert in the kitchen, he turns to me and says, "You know, I've never been happier in my life."  My heart swells in happiness. He's not big on romantic statements, so this one comment is rare and very treasured by me.

Again I fall asleep on the couch during our cuddle time. Again he holds me on his chest while he masturbates. This time I tug and pull on his balls and he tells me how good I am at it. I murmur "It's like I was made to tug on them" and he tells me I most certainly was.

We fall asleep cuddling again. We are awoken few hours later by a very strong storm that causes us to get up, check the weather, and unplug our important electronics. There's no real danger, so we head back to bed, holding each other. A bolt of lightening makes me hump together, arms around each other.

Sunday we sleep in way too late and decide to have a nice day out. Lunch, shopping, movies. As we're getting ready, he calls me Mrs. (his last night). I call him naughty and tell him that he, Mr. (my last name) shouldn't say such things. He actually grins and almost blushes at my comment. He admits to liking my last name as his...

He helps me pick out shoes and we go clothes shopping. I could use a couple more dresses for work. I try on two in the dressing room. One is a steal on clearance that I like and it fits well. The other is only on sale, but I love it. I go to check the price again, unsure of whether to get it. As I'm trying to decide he asks, "Do you love it?" When I say I do, he says, "Then get it. You deserve it." He squeezes my shoulder with his arm around me and looks me in the eye: "Get it."

Funny how someone giving you permission to do what I want makes such a difference. I buy both dresses, and get him a couple of hot thongs on clearance as well. (They are super hot).

At the movies we spend a good forty or so minutes of him with his arm around me and me with my head on his shoulder. The rest of the movie he holds my hand which he occasionally kisses throughout the movie.

Onto grocery shopping, where we are so happy we can't not put our arms around each other as we shop. We plan our meals for the week and he starts buying food for a "surprise meal" that will be made later in the week. I'm excited and curious.

We unpack the car and groceries together. The sink is full of dirty dishes; I really want to sit down and relax for a couple of hours, and he tells me I should. He'll do the dishes tomorrow. They can wait one day as he wants me to relax.

At home later we are playing video games -  my final hurrah before the week starts again. Suddenly he starts humming a song - and I realize what it is. "Why are you singing that?"

"What?" he keeps humming.

"You can't hum that!"

"Why not? One day you'll be my bride, all dressed in white..."

"Naughty!" but when he turns to look at me, I'm beet red from blushing and he gets up and comes over to hug and kiss me, even though I try to hide my bashful face.

"You are so beautiful when you blush! Why are you blushing so much! One day you'll be my bride, you know... awww, look at you smile!"

And as I'm writing this, he's on the couch just a few feet away, waiting for me to cuddle and spend some quality time together.

He is exactly what I needed.

When life is too busy

This is a sex blog, right? Right.

So what happens when we hit a dry spell, and we've only had sex once in the past week?

Woah, what? Only once!?

Maybe for some it wouldn't be such a big deal. For some that may be normal. For us, we're used to 7-10 times a week, on average. We've never been through this kind of "dry spell" before.

Part of my mind wants to freak out. I freak out that, after hitting the 1 year mark in our relationship, the magic and connection is gone and now we're going to end up in a sexless relationship like I'm  used to. But then the rational side of my brain reminds me that this relationship is NOTHING like my prior one. It's only been a little bit of time, this can happen. It's normal. Sometimes life gets in the way and you get busy. We still desire each other, we're just not clicking.

Really, its me more than anything. I'm overwhelmed at work doing ten and twelve hour days several days a week plus some time on weekends. I'm still trying to unpack and get settled in my home. As @MrAbsnthPassion said to me on twitter:

Too much brain buzz after the move to sort through all the noise

He was referring to my complaint of writer's block, but it holds true for the sex life as well. 

Normally a good sleep will help me recharge, become myself again. But I haven't slept well in weeks. I'm in a viscous cycle of  stressing due to life, and not sleeping due to stress, and trying to sleep to get some rest, only to have life prevent me from resting at all. 

Weekends are normally my break, but if I'm working on the home or doing work work, I'm not getting much of a break. And then each night is best described as fitful. I wake up with terrible muscle aches in my back, shoulders, and neck. 

All of this is making me short on patience and positivity. I feel like a shell just drifting through the days, accomplishing as much as I can in the hope it will one day make up for all my effort and I'll be rewarded for my work with free time. I'm not feeling like myself. 

The normal me would be horny, desiring my boyfriend's affection and attention. I should be open to his advances and making plenty of my own. I would want to masturbate. I'd be silly in my interactions and making him laugh and giggle. I'd want to talk pictures of him and us in sexy poses and lingerie. I'd write my sex toy reviews.

I'll keep trying. I know it will pass. July will just be a less than stellar month for us, but consider the prior twelve, it's OK. Life happens. It will continue.

I/we cannot wait. 

Sharing rules

Before our relationship even started, we agreed that we both wanted to have the opportunity to play with others of our same sex. We're both bisexual and we both want to enjoy that side of our sexuality. Our only rule was we wanted to be present, ie, he could watch me with another woman (but not participate) and vice versa.

We both want to "play" with someone we can trust. I am not a "meet you then fuck you 5 minutes later" person. I need a relationship. I need to know who you are and like/love you. For me, sex and orgasms don't happen outside of this arena of caring. I want to make sure that whatever sexual experience we have, there will be kissing and cuddling which are not random experiences for me. I also want to make sure I am with someone who I can trust when they say they are drug/disease free. I don't want to worry and doubt. I want honesty. I want a personal relationship. I want to know what makes you laugh and how to make you giggle. I want to share our more than just my bed, but also some of my normal life.

We haven't done any experimenting yet, really. We've been far too interested in each other. We also are not sure where/how to look. I haven't had time to explore FetLife; I'm not sure it's the place for me. We're both naturally shy and its hard for us to meet someone, much less meet someone to start this kind of relationship. And really, we're in no rush. We've enjoyed the past year together. We have many, many years ahead of us. Why rush into this?

But then there is twitter. There are many amazing, sexy women and couples that offer potential. I'll fully admit to flirting with women on there (you know who you are) and using some of them in my fantasy life (I don't think I've told them about it...). There are singles and couples who have asked to join us or be a part of our sex life. It's all very flattering to be so desired. I've never been so wanted in my entire life.

Most of the time I'm propositioned it's by men or by a couple. No one has lived near me to be a possibility geographically, so I consider these invites pretty harmless and unreal. It's never a serious consideration. But then there's one couple we've started to crush on.

But the interest has expanded from girl-girl and guy-guy. Once my BF got to know the man of the couple pretty well and the man expressed interest in me (although he certainly wants the BF more), my BF told me he wanted me to fuck the guy! I was shocked - SHOCKED. He has been so strong on his stance that no man would ever fuck me, and now he wants me to be fucked by another guy? Not only does he want me to be fucked by the guy, he wants the man to cum in me so my BF can lick me clean. Creampie cleanup!

I've also been granted clearance to flirt with him...it makes my BF jealous, but also turned on and horny. He likes it.

A few weeks ago, somewhat randomly and suddenly, we skyped with them. Naked. We didn't do anything on camera except a little kissing and fondling; we mostly talked. But the ideas and mutual want for a meeting and fun together is on the table and we want to explore further.

In a way, I'm very flattered. I'm flattered that the man wants me, I'm flattered his wife is OK with it, and I'm extremely flattered my BF trusts both of us to be OK with it. I'm turned on. I never thought this would be on the table. Never.

But then the question is raised, what about his wife? She and I are certainly ready to tear into each other, but she has expressed interest in my BF and he is certainly interested in her. But I am not sure I am comfortable and OK with that. I have an insane jealous streak and while I am secure in my relationship, I don't like the idea of my BF getting off due to physical contact with another woman. I have no problem with porn, but I prefer he look at gay or TS porn rather than women. I do not like him flirting with women on twitter. I understand his appreciation for women on tumblr and even this beautiful woman, but the thought of him fucking her or her sucking him off makes me... jealous. sad. lonely. I don't think I can do it.

I'm trying to reconcile these feelings of jealousy with reality. I really have no fear of losing him; I'm not sure what my feelings are.

I never considered myself to be a swinger, but that is certainly the direction we are heading. I'm totally OK with this. Our fantasy life often brings up different things we would do with this couple and others. For now, the rules are changing and our boundaries are expanding. Who knows what might happen when geography is not an issue? I'm not sure. I do know that anyone who will be with us will have a relationship with both of us. And we both get a veto option. Because, ultimately, its about us in the end.

Lust and the No-Sex Pact

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, the BF and I started a "no-sex pact" where we wouldn't have penis-in-vagina (PIV) sex until we moved into our house. Then it would be an explosion of sex. We were supposed to last 24 days. Halfway through, I posted an update where I described some of unexpected "side affects" of such a deal.

I think we had some of our hottest orgasms during these days. We found new ways to pleasure each other (and yes, details on that coming soon!).

But on day 18, we gave in. Day 18 was the day after we closed on the house. After work, we looked around at this house that we have together, our future home, and we gave in to lust and passion.

We didn't even get fully naked. We skipped foreplay.We pulled off pants and underwear, and he fucked me on the floor. He jacked himself off looking at my pussy. I fingered my clit waiting for him; I was on the floor, and his dick was hard in seconds. He laid down and slid slowly into me....

Eighteen days of waiting was over. He filled me up, my pussy surrounding his dick. I felt tight around him and lost myself in the feeling of just his dick sliding in and out of me. He moaned and held my head between his hands, elbows supporting him.

I didn't feel the hard floor beneath me. I didn't care about the carpet under my ass. All I could feel was his weight on me and his dick in me. He ground his pelvis against mine, slightly stimulating my clit. He reached down and started fingered my clit and my already-present moans started to become light, soft screams. He brought me close to orgasm, but not quite. He slowed his fucking while using his fingers to pleasure me.... I wanted more fucking.

I pushed his hand off of me and placed my own finger on my clit. I begged him to fuck me more, fuck me harder, fuck me faster... I needed more dick in me.  He fucked away at me, kneeling upright so I could really get my clit. My orgasm built for a long time, and as I could tell it was getting ready to build, I started telling him I was getting ready to cum. It wasn't really telling him, but the panicked, about to orgasm talk:

"I'm gonna cum... oh I gonna cum... oh fuck oh fuck I'm gonna cum!"

When I came, I screamed as loudly as I needed to - it echoed through the empty house. My body was consumed with the full body orgasm. I arched up against him with just my shoulders and a bit of my ass on the ground. I came screaming and twitching.

My orgasm lasted what felt like a full minute; I'm not sure what it was in reality. I remember my body relaxing in a trembling mess on the floor. I relaxed... and the endorphins took over. I have no memory of how he came... I assume it was in me.

We fucked again later that night.

And then the cleaning, packing, and moving started taking over. Sex and orgasms became luxuries. We fell asleep too tired to for sex, so masturbation took over, if that. The heat wave didn't help. We ran ragged. Moving day came and went - and to celebrate, I rode him cowgirl. Sex began to pick back up, but at a slower than normal pace. It took a few days of unpacking and cleaning for things to calm down where we returned to normal. Like today.

We have unpacked the sex toys and the lube, we have moments to relax. We fucked three times on Sunday. We are once again walking around naked. There is some very naughty sex plans in the works... more details to come.

Update on our "No sex pact"

As we've announced on twitter, we are closing on our first home this coming week. This has been in the works for several months and we could not be more excited that it's coming to an end.  We have been talking for a while about celebrating this awesome milestone, but how?

I know there are some things we've been waiting to experience together in the new home, like him dominating me or him tying me up and really letting me have it. He won't do either of those now because he needs me to be able to scream without alerting the neighbors. But those are thing that will not happen right away.

One day when we were talking about how my pussy has changed he joked about not having sex for a while to see if that made a difference. Of course when he says this we both end up laughing, there's no way we could just withhold sex for months... but what about weeks? I don't remember how the conversation went, but someone suggested not having sex until we were officially moved into the house, and the other agreed.

What we didn't consider was that moving day was 23 days away.

As of this post, we are on day 12. Twelve days without penis-in-vagina sex.

It's not a dry spell, as we are both horny and wanton. In fact, we are even more horny as a result. We are indulging in everything else. The past twelve days have included anal sex, handjobs, toys, and tons of oral.

In a way, our sex life has never been so hot.

We've never been so on fire for each other. When I get home from work we are immediately in the bedroom making out and sucking on each other. And then at bedtime we want more.

I've noticed a few things from this. First, he's become more generous in wanting me to not have just an orgasm or two, but 5, 8, 10, or more. He may give me a few, and when I'm doing satisfying him he wants to give more. And then I give more back.

We are more desperate to be with each other. We can't stand to be apart while I'm at work. During our couch cuddle time in the evening we are now naked and he is laying on my body, feeling me up a bit before bedtime.

We are fighting more. I think our passion for each other is closer to the surface, but that means it's easier to trigger some stupid argument. We fight passionately over stupid stuff, then all of a sudden it dissipates and we end up just holding each other.

So, is it worth it? So far, I think so. Call it an experiment in sex. An experiment in our relationship. Since we've been together, we've only abstained from PIV sex for three days. And it was a very long three days. When it ended, we had three very hot, explosive rounds of sex in a hotel room.  I can only imagine that, if three days resulted in that kind of reaction, what would three weeks do?

So we're looking forward to the date with a LOT of anticipation. It will be an awesome, amazing night. And in the meantime, we are rediscovering and just enjoying all the ways we give handjobs, oral sex, cuddling, and masturbation. Oh, lots of masturbation.

So here we are, on fire for each other, denying ourselves for a purpose. It's hot, driving us wild, and we are loving and hating every moment of it.

How my pussy has changed

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Sex diary: Our anniversary weekend

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Our Anniversary: What we want for the future

Our anniversary is today. One year ago, I made the trip to meet him at a bus station, and drove him back to my place. It was our very first meeting. And, very unlike anything I had ever done. Have you not read our story? You should. Read first how we met, and then our story of our first night in part one and part two.

The plan was simple: he would visit for three weeks so we could get to know each other in person, and then I would go with him back up to his home and meet his family and we would decide our next steps. Of course, should things not work out, there was a bus home at any moment. Two weeks later, he asked to move in with me. I said "probably not." It was too soon, too fast. I was crazy about him; I loved him. But move in together after only 2 weeks?

And then I thought about him not being there. And how hard it was to wait for him to come and visit me. I didn't want to say goodbye.

Three days before he was to return home, he asked again. I felt so vulnerable. I told him, " You can stay, but don't break my heart." I started crying a little, so scared it would end up with me being burned by another man. He pulled me into a gentle hug, and whispered a promise in my ear he would never hurt me. I nodded my resolve to take a chance, open myself up, and said yes.

And today, it's been one year. We are so happy together we pretty much ooze love around each other.. we can't help it! From the start we agreed we wanted to be to have an entire year together before we discussed the "next step." That led to the introduction to the famous "Rule" which we started breaking last November, and in March we completely dumped it altogether. Enough time had passed, we knew: this is it.

I asked the boyfriend what his favorite moments from the past year were. His answer: "Every moment is my favorite, honey. It's been the best year of my life."

I have some special moments that I remember fondly, but in so many ways he's right. It doesn't matter what firsts we've shared or how awesome sex was last night; what's important is that we shared it together. We've fought, cried, laughed at, and shocked the one another. But nothing has ever caused us to think this was the end.

The main reason I started tweeting last October and then blogging in February was my excitement and happiness. I couldn't stand to not share our joy with someone! The world needed to know! I wish I could share with our vanilla world, but all I can hope is that our friends and family are experiencing some joy in their lives as well. It's been wonderful to share, and I can't wait to continue sharing.

The future! We are so excited for the next step and have started talking about engagement, rings, marriage, children... we see it all before us. Next month we move into a house about three times the size of our current apartment. It's just the beginning of the next stage of our journey: our home.

I asked him what he wanted for the future. He said: "House, marriage, children (born or adopted, it doesn't matter to me), a life together."

That's exactly my answer, too.

Happy Anniversary, to us.