The darkest hour is just before dawn.

Nobody looks good in their darkest hours. But it is those hours that make us who we are.

Disclaimer: This is one of the darkest times and therefore the hardest posts for me to get out of my head. I have made peace with so much of my past, but I am unhappy with my behaviour around this time. It also heralds the start of my complete emotional collapse and subsequent recovery. Needless to say I am not surprised it has taken me three weeks of procrastination to face these words.
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The darkest of times were approaching, but Christmas was over and I had M home again.

I had collected him from the marina, and we had reunited physically as soon as the opportunity arose. We celebrated a joyful post-christmas with the boys and saw the new year in together. The next time I saw him, a week later, something was different. The warmth was gone, he was stiff and frosty. No matter, I thought, he must just be tired from work. My plans for a move were coming together, my work transfer was imminent and when I was home I was packing. Life was busy, but from my side life was good.

I was to work three days in Devon and stay with M for the two nights in the middle for the first 3 weeks in my new post, before I moved down with the boys.

The first week was lovely. The second week I woke up on the first night to M panting another woman’s name. It was disconcerting, and it played on my mind as the darkest hours slipped away and dawn arrived. I asked him about her over breakfast. He raged, accused me of snooping in his tablet and phone. I hadn’t, I wouldn’t, why would I have? I hadn’t fully trusted him, but I had alway thought that was because of everything I had been through with P. How could I trust anyone I was that intimate with?

After work he had calmed enough to have a decent conversation.

He told me how my accusation had made him feel, how hurt he was and how someone had snooped his phone before when he was less than trustworthy. It had made him angry to think I didn’t trust him “after all we have been through together”. I was sorry that I had made him feel like that, genuinely. My question had hurt him, come close to harming us. We went to bed, I curled up in his arms. Safe, content. Mostly….

It was a night when I could not sleep. Something wasn’t quite right…

So I got out of bed, slipped out of the room with his tablet and guessed his password. My heart in my mouth I went through it. His messaging apps had contact with women talking about intimate moments they had shared, since we had become a monogamous (at his suggestion) couple. His deleted files held pictures, more messages from women I knew, had talked with recently…

I hated myself straight away, knew that it was wrong.

I put the tablet down, went back to his arms and pondered while sleep eluded me. I now understand that we set our own bar in life, but at this point I was so beyond broken. M was my safe space and I adored him. I had broken his trust by going through his tablet, I could forgive him for his lack of honesty. My intuition had been right all along but now that I knew the truth I could let it go, we could carry on as we had been. I slept fitfully that night, the shame of what I had done will never leave me.

After a few hours of disturbed sleep I woke with M, we went about our daily business.

I returned home that night, collected my boys and put them to bed. That evening M didn’t answer the phone. The next evening he called me, asking if I had been through his tablet. Of course I lied, he hung up on me. I called him back, got a tirade of abuse all of which I had earned. He hung up on me again. A short text stating he didn’t want to talk to me. He would decide when he was ready to talk to me.

I could literally hear my heart shattering in the deafening silence that followed.

What followed was me trying to pick up the pieces of my broken heart, but in the jumble of shards were piece of Ms deceit and Ps abuse. I had protected myself from the true extent of the abuse with the safety blanket of M and now I was alone to deal with all of the bad things that had happened, which were all my fault. After me breaking M’s trust and rifling through his private space the next thing that was my fault was my inadequacy as a wife. If I had been better at that he wouldn’t have abused the children, he wouldn’t have needed to rape me…

At the darkest moment my phone pinged.

It was my former manager, now training as a counsellor. A random message asking how I had been enjoying the start of 2017 so far. She was the first person I spoke to about my realisation. Very briefly I recounted how P had taken what he wanted from me while our infant slept on my chest. Two minutes later I had the rape crisis website on the thread. She wasn’t an expert in trauma (or anything at that point) but she was certain that if I called the help line I would be able to get some support. Three days later I called. I remember the gentle voice at the other end of the line even now, I spoke carefully. I didn’t think any of this was Ps fault, I knew that if I had been a better wife it wouldn’t have happened. As I was about to move counties I was given the contact details for my soon to be local support service. I emailed and waited, with instructions that I could call the national team back at any time.

M and I were soon talking again. He was to help me move, and though it was bitter-sweet I will be forever grateful for his support.

Over the months that followed I was able to turn the love that I felt for M into friendship rather than romantic attachment and I am genuinely pleased to have him as a friend and confidante. He soon got a new girlfriend, and he still hasn’t told me that it is the lady whose name he said in the middle of the night. Then again, I haven’t told him about all that I found. The months that followed were interesting, exciting and beyond scary… but those are stories for other posts. For now I am just pleased to get through this one.

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#SOSS: Sharing the love.

sharing is caringThis week has been an interesting one for me.

Starting the week with some exciting (for Sir) but sad (for me) news, realising something so glaringly obvious that I can’t believe it took four years to understand and running more miles than I have clocked in a number of years, all in an effort to make sense of it all. Throughout the week I have been pleased with myself for reaching out to my friends, but sometimes quiet contemplation and curling up with a blog post or two has been wonderful as well. I love briefly slipping into other people’s worlds, whether they are writing fantasy or reality, or sharing pictures.

With that in mind, here are my top posts for the week.

I found Sensing submission midweek, I think via Twitter. Her posts are candid and well written, but Bukkake Madness, in particular, made me smile.

A fraud, from Marie Rebelle didn’t make me smile, not in the traditional sense anyway. It served to remind me that even the people who appear to have it all under wraps often don’t. I have included her here because her words had a profound effect on my week, even though my sadness came from a different place.

Scanderella is another new find for me this week. A surprise attack brought me back to my senses after spotting it in a tweet, so much love (should that be lust???) for this piece. But seriously, her writing is so steamy I even found her review for a penis masturbator had me drooling.

Domestic discipline, Jenny style has such an interesting life, I really enjoy reading all about her relationships, especially as her poly experiences are expanding. This week I read this post about what happens when the Dom goes away. A great insight into how her particular brand of poly looks, educational and informative as well as erotically charged.

I have been following Photo Stephi for quite some time now. The pictures that are shared there are so tasteful and elegant. Not smutty at all, which is slightly out of line with my usual preferences, but they are so, so beautiful, and this week they have been incredibly busy adding new collections that have caught my eye I couldn’t help myself anymore.

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Trust is earned in drops and lost in buckets.

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Over the months M and I enjoyed many comfortable times in our relationship.

I have always cherished companionable silence and healthy debate, both of which had been sorely missed with P. M and I enjoyed each others company in so many ways when we were together, and when we were apart things were fine. I had my boys, work, study and M had his work and regular AA meetings. We would usually chat every evening once the boys were in bed, with the odd text exchange during the day. This worked really well, and we were both happy with the level of contact. It worked for us.

But there were times when he would go off grid.

Just for an evening or so, not answering our prearranged call, and then being rude and grumpy with me the next time we spoke. He would say that he felt claustrophobic and needed some time to himself. I felt awful that I had made him feel like that, stepped back a little and gave him the space he needed, but then he would be back in the same routine of contact. My head would swim at the change in his moods, but walking on eggshells was something that I had learnt was normal in relationships. P had shown me that, and as we had been together for most of my adult life I had no other point of reference. The thing was though, that when he was absent unexpectedly my head would go into a spin. I would imagine all sorts of situations and realised that I didn’t trust him. When I asked him what he had been up to the last evening he would get cross and say he had “just been for a walk” or he had “gone to an extra meeting.” All perfectly reasonable, and I tried so hard to not listen to my gut instinct.

He was patient with me, suggested we try counselling.

So we went. We sat in the room with a lovely lady who asked questions. I answered more, he was a closed book, but he pointed out that I was the one who didn’t trust him so it was probably working just right. That smooth smile of his, those kind dark brown eyes… This was my fault, the stress in our relationship. Why wouldn’t it be? Everything always was! That was another lesson from P. We kept going and, alongside my own solo counselling I started to get a better image in my head of what I needed out of life and our relationship.

During this time I had been planning a move to Devon.

It would take me closer to M, but that was just the icing on the cake as far as my life was concerned. Devon had become a safe space for me, I had discovered that Dartmoor had a healing effect on my soul. My study was also progressing well, and I had planned on either going to Plymouth university, where the department had an excellent reputation with high quality graduates in my chosen field, or continuing with the Open University. I could transfer with work, and make the study decision later on, but with P taking his parenting role with a pinch of salt it was the deciding factor.

M actively encouraged my decision, making plans and suggestions.

He even came to look at houses with me, talking through the benefits of the areas and why he liked them. As time went on he even began talking about our long-term future together, moving in together, holidays with the children. All interspersed with the occasional disappearance. I convinced myself that I must be imagining things, that I didn’t trust him because of my past. That my belief that I wasn’t good enough made me think he would leave me eventually, and that as I started to like myself more I would trust that he wasn’t the scoundrel or heart breaker that his relationship history indicated he would eventually become.

We all change and grow, and as I was learning about myself so was he, through his recovery from alcoholism.

His lack of interest in me sexually must have been due to the lack of trust I had in him. I didn’t constantly show him my fears and worries. No, I kept them for private moments when my mind would run round in circles. After all, I really should trust him; he was the one who had asked for a monogamous relationship, he knew my interest in sexual freedom and how I had been non-monogamous with Sir.

But that was different.

And this relationship was mainly vanilla.

And vanilla does not cater for people like me.

My square peg in this round hole of a relationship was what was causing my anxiety.

Obviously…

So I would need to change…

File down those edges.

Again!

Never underestimate how tiring it is trying to fit in with what you believe others expect of you.

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TMI Tuesday: 26th June 2018

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1. Is your sex life more fantasy or reality?

If I have a fantasy I have been encouraged to turn it into a reality. So both, I think. When I say encouraged, I do mean I am often tasked with making them happen…

2. If you could hook-up with a past lover (with no repercussions or regret), who would it be and why? (No need to use real names just briefly describe the person and their relationship to you.)

I don’t have a past lover that I would have a bonus night with. They are all in the past for a reason. Besides, I have current lovers I wish I could spend more time with, so I shall say so long and thanks for all the fish.

3. You can only indulge in one of the following sex acts for the rest of your life, which would you choose to enjoy?
a. oral sex, only giving
b. 69
c. oral sex, only receiving
d. mutual masturbation

I love giving oral and I’m told my skills are excellent. I think mutual masturbation would work for me as a good orgasm (or the promise of one/two/three) makes me all the more attentive in my offering.

4. With each lover do you pay attention to what they want or do you have a repertoire that you stick to when having sex?

Different lovers require different skill sets. It very much depends on our dynamic, and also it depends on what tasks I am working on for Sir. I always pay attention to what they want, the dynamic dictates whether they get it or not 😉

5. Do you initiate sex for healthful benefits, e.g., to sleep better or relieve pain?

I sometimes masturbate for the mental health benefits… Well, if I needed an excuse that’s what I would say.

Bonus: Do you understand the clitoris?

I understand the science behind it, and love the way that mine works. But they are all so different!! So while I understand mine, I still get very confused with other womens’. No wonder men find it so challenging.

Click on the link below to see what other people have to say:

TMI Tuesday blog

 

When I get down on my knees, it is not to pray.

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Fresh from the bath, smooth and naked, I knelt before him in the soft light of my lounge, eyes down gazing lustily at his crotch.

I heard him shift in the sofa, felt him lift a tendril of my damp hair from my neck and trace his finger under my chin, raising my face to meet his in a passionate kiss. “I can’t” he murmured, “I’m not him, I’m not Sir.”

“I know, and I don’t want you to be,” breathing into the kiss I continued “I just want to suck your cock while I kneel here.”

He clearly hadn’t needed much persuading as, breaking away from the kiss, he unbuckled his belt, lowered his fly and shifted to release his already engorged shaft. Licking my lips I lowered my face to take him fully in my mouth, shining his length with my saliva, before lazily running my hot wet tongue over his veins in just the way that I knew he enjoyed. The growl that escaped from his lips told me everything I needed to know and my already soaked pussy began to mark my soft soles as I knelt there between his legs.

“Enough,” he said, suddenly standing up.

I was jolted from my lusty haze as he stepped past me, moving to my left and stepping out of his jeans. It took me a moment to realise that he was sliding his belt from the loops as he tidied his jeans away. There was a dark spark in his already dark brown eyes, and he gently moved me from kneeling beside the sofa to leaning forward over the cushion. “This is what you need N, I hope you’re ready,” and the first blow of his warm leather belt landed across my right cheek followed moments later by a second, this time on my left cheek. The immediate sting followed by a spreading warmth was exactly what I needed, though I hadn’t realised, and M settled into a rhythm. I could feel every millimetre of the strikes as they turned my milky white flesh a hot red.

Looking over my shoulder I could see the fire in his eyes as he embraced the savage within. 

Every swipe of the belt make my skin sting and tingle. Each blow led to more pleasure building across my skin. Twenty on each side was his limit, and he placed his weapon down next to my face as he moved behind me. On his knees behind me he buried his face between my hot cheeks, tongue desperately seeking my arousal which was leaking from between my lips and over my swollen clitoris. A hand on each cheek, kneading my tender flesh while he lapped at my sweet juices, before sliding his fingers into me and stretching my snatch wide so that he could get a proper taste. As he continued to torment my holes with his tongue and fingers I came to a shuddering climax which knocked the strength from me and left my body in a soft, trembling heap on the cushions.

“Oh no, you’re not done yet” came his tense response, “back on your knees again.”

And he helped me turn to my left, and get back onto my knees. With his hard shaft bobbing around in front of my glazed eyes I ran my tongue around his bulbous head once more. A short moan escaped his lips again as he fisted his hand in my hair, forcing my head back and my mouth fell open. As my lips parted he drove his cock into my mouth, into my throat, and as I gagged and spluttered he continued to drive into me, seeking his own release. With each stroke of his pleasure more of mine dripped from my hypersensitive cleft and I spread it over my clit and played myself to a second orgasm matching his eruption, his sticky seed spilling down my throat as I convulsed once more.

As his legs lost strength he folded down onto the sofa, pulling me up into his arms where I drifted into an untroubled sleep. 

Click here to see what other people are writing.

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TMI Tuesday: 12th June 2018

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1. If you were an ice-cream flavor, what would you be and why?

I would be lemon meringue. I may present as vanilla, but I am far from it, and that is a wonderful surprise. When you first take the lid off the tub it looks very  ordinary, but take a scoop and you start to see the swirls of lemon. Taste me, those yellow streaks are a little bit tart alongside the smooth creamy ice-cream. And then there is the hidden texture of meringue.

2. What are the best sexy skills you bring to a sexual relationship?

I am adventurous, unshockable and love to push myself to try new things and perfect old things.

3. What is the single largest problem causing you angst in your romantic relationship (current or most recent relationship)?

I don’t know that there is angst in my life at the moment. I guess I have to say the tasks I am set where I have to decide what to do “to please him” make me feel most anxious.

4. What is the best part about being in a relationship with you?

ME!

5. What is the biggest misconception that people have about you?

Still waters run deep with me, and the vanilla mask that is visible to the world is not the real me. I am usually seen as sweet and innocent, even among the local kink community. But once people become trusted they see that I am very much the opposite. One friend has just fallen off her chair at the thought of how family see me… but she has been on the receiving end of my sadistic giggle.

I have just been reminded that people sometimes see me as weak. Until recently I believed that too, and yet it couldn’t be further from the truth. Again, still waters run deep, and that strength isn’t on display for all to see, but it is there!

Bonus:  When you look at old photos of yourself, do you like what you see?

I enjoy looking at me through the times of my life. Some pictures I enjoy more than others, but I love reflecting on my life and pictures help with that. When I look at these pictures (below) what is not to like?

 

TMI Tuesday blog

 

Soul is to be found in the vicinity of taboo.

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As I have said M wasn’t into D/s and power exchange, but he was fairly kinky.

There were a few things that he introduced to me which I absolutely loved.The first time he spit in my face was a surprise. Not because he had done it, I had known it was coming, but because of how much I enjoyed it. He always said that he would just get lost in my eyes, the brilliant sparkly blue gateways to my soul and it felt so depraved to have him gaze into them and, while making full use of my pussy, spit into those eyes, forcing them to close… This expansion of my kinks coincided with my youngest discovering he could spit. I have always prided myself on being a good mum, and fair. Now I was having to be hypocritical and tell him off for something that I happily enjoyed with M.

This wasn’t the only thing that I would have to teach my children not to do while embracing as part of my sex life. 

But how did I come round to enjoying the spit? It seems so degrading on the face of it, so disgusting and unloving. I had always found mouths a bit gross, and that included tongues and spit, but as with all things it is the context with which you engage in it. Had he just come up to me and flobbed in my eye I probably would have been appalled and sent him packing with his tail between his legs, but as it was we had discussed why I didn’t like mouths particularly, and over time he got me to enjoy morning breath kisses. For someone who loves ass-to-mouth it may seem strange that morning breath kisses could seem so taboo, but we are shaped by other peoples ideals as children and my mum was very much about not poking out tongues or spitting. (I dare say Ass-to-mouth would have been a big no-no, but she has never witnessed me doing that!!)

With the confidence that enjoying new experiences brings I was soon tempted to try something else that felt so very wrong…. 

My nose buried in his testicles and my tongue lapping at his anus I had an idea. Pulling back I looked at the surprise and mild disappointment on his face, then I got a load of saliva together and spat on his hole…before putting my head back down and pressing my tongue into him deeper than before. The moans that escaped him were exquisite and so arousing. The next time I spat on him he was on all fours, and I had his exposed hole in full view. His enjoyment of receiving the spit and subsequent rimming was evident when he exploded all over his bedding. I’ve never been one to waste cum, so I sucked his mess from the mattress. Again, how can it be so taboo to spit yet I think nothing of hoovering up a puddle of semen?

With his reaction to my actions I wondered what his reaction to his own spit would be like.

The next time we were together we had a very vanilla coming together. It had been a while and I had not had release so I was keen to have a second round. Laying there I spread my legs wide as he knelt between them, reached down and using my fingers I stretched my folds wide apart. As I was about to say “spit on me” I noticed his flaccid cock coming back to life. I had never considered that my spread hole would have this effect. Sir and MrN had been keen to see me continue with stretching while I was under their guidance but it was always in my mind that they would be thinking of what they could put in there, not at what the gaping hole looked like. M’s reaction caused a shift in my thoughts there… Still, I asked him to spit on me and put himself to good use, which he did twice more that evening, and we both fell asleep with daft grins.

We talked in detail about his instant raging erection. It had been as much of a surprise to him as me.

From this point it was only a short hop to him using my face, and I was very happy to experience it with him. Over this period of exploration we experimented with my gaping pussy and both of our spitting in a variety of ways. It turned out that I liked him spitting anywhere on me, but I only felt comfortable doing so on his genitals. I didn’t enjoy using his face, it just didn’t feel right to me. Maybe that is my submissive nature (using my spit for lubricant but not humiliation) or maybe it was the remnants of a slightly conservative upbringing? Either way I had learnt a lot about this new form of play with M and I was very grateful to him for being dirty and to myself for having a sense of adventure.

The look on his face at my gaping pussy will stay with me for a very long time though, and I am also pleased that he enjoyed taking pictures of it for me…

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Most of all, differences of opinion are opportunities for learning.

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M and I were getting along really well, but there was something that made him deeply uncomfortable.

He loved the fact that I enjoyed kinky sex, but my submissive nature made him a little bit cross. Power exchange was never something that I required of him, we were equals on all fronts, but on occasion I would do something that would anger him and it wasn’t until I pinned him down and demanded he talk to me about the problem that we could start to work on a solution. There was one time when he had a tight back, and as I was sat on floor by his feet I automatically went to put on his socks. I did not see that as a submissive thing, more just helping someone I cared about with something they found tricky. He snatched the socks from my hand and marched off to his bedroom to put his own socks and shoes on. Throughout my marriage behaviour like this (anger!!) would have made me quake in my boots, but I was different now, more confident, and this was M. I had no reason to fear him, though he did confuse me sometimes.

I gave him some time to calm down, and asked him why he had reacted the way he did.

It then all came tumbling out. How during our blossoming friendship he had initially enjoyed the fact that I was owned, but now that we were together he didn’t want or need that responsibility. Being my dominant was not what he had signed up for and it made him feel very uncomfortable to think I wanted him to behave that way. I had to stifle a giggle at that point, he could never have known that I did not expect or desire that from him either. So I explained to him that none of the things that I did would ever mean I wanted him to be my Sir, my owner, my dominant. He was my lover, my friend, my equal. And while I felt that a D/s relationship could include all of those 3 parts, my relationship with him did not include the power exchange and sadomasochism which I would associate with a D/s relationship.

  • This man I loved was gentle, scatty and a little bit flakey!
  • The Dominant that I loved was demanding, organised and driven.

I adored all of those things about both of them, but they were two entirely different men. And with sir away for the foreseeable future (I had no idea if I would ever see him again) I had no desire at that time to look for a similar relationship elsewhere.

This conversation marked a turning point in our relationship.

He became noticeably more relaxed, and didn’t fly off the handle when some part of my submission emerged. He tried his best to take it in the spirit I intended it, and kindly told me if something made him uncomfortable, and I tried to make sure I didn’t behave in a way that put him on edge. Not through fear of the consequences if I upset him, as I had been with P, but more out of a mutual respect for our different life experiences and expectations. By having the confidence to challenge the negative feelings brought about by our different opinions we learnt more about each other and grew as a couple.

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TMI Tuesday: 29th May 2018

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

1. If your lover was turned on by forced feminization would you participate (giving or receiving)? 

No, it’s something that would be a big turn off for me and if he was solely monogamous and needed the forced feminization it would be a deal breaker for me. However, I would happily support him in finding a lover that he could fulfill that fantasy with.

2. When you have sexual dreams or fantasies that are aggressive or cruel, does it worry you? 

No, not at all. I have been on the receiving end of cruel and aggressive behaviours, and if I fantasized about reliving them I would be concerned, but the fantasies I have which are along a similar line are most definitely not the same… If anything they are darker! But the mind is a funny thing. And as long as I am not harming anyone, including myself, then there is no problem.

3. Tell us your hottest, sexiest fantasy, right now, in 100 words or less. 
This is the fantasy about your desires that you probably never share, maybe they even go against your morals or are societal taboos.

Being bound, naked, to the ceiling above a party, with a bell in hand and a straw in my mouth. Over the evening I am made to drink a lot, and when I need to pee I ring the bell. People can move out of the way or be put underneath me by their owners. I would be being whipped sporadically by Sir, across my breasts.

4. Which super hero would you like to have sex with? Why?
a. Aquaman
b. Superman
c. Wonder Woman
d. She-Ra

I’m not knowledgeable on superheroes, but I had at least heard of three of them. So a google search later introduced me to Aquaman. The pictures which are up for the upcoming film show a man with a naked torso standing in the water. Research done! I choose Aquaman, after getting rid of the beard…. Still none the wiser about him, but it’s ok to be fickle sometimes.

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5. Do you think the lure to live out sexual fantasies or have sex frequently is amplified by technology? Briefly explain. The desire to meet new people for sex and live out my fantasies has not been amplified by technology. The ease with which I can arrange meets has changed since I have come to understand how different sites works though; as a woman on any of the sites associated with quick and easy hook ups you get bombarded with offers. I also think that these sites are a lure for men who just want to sit behind their screens and wank but have no intention of meeting. It seems to be a common frustration among friends.

Bonus: Describe your fantasy life in three (3) words.

Honest.

Fulfilling.

Secure.

TMI Tuesday blog

 

Then it hits you so much harder than you thought it would.

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M and I soon settled into a routine of spending the weekends together and an occasional weeknight.

With my children home much of the time and living an hours drive apart our time in each others company was somewhat limited. M had met the boys before, and they thought he was wonderful. On the weekends they were home he would come up on the saturday night and spend the sunday with us, the boys really enjoyed his company too and he was very fond of them and their characters. He didn’t have his own children, and he never tried to behave like a dad to them, but he was a positive male role model for them at a time when that was lacking from their dad, P. I also really appreciated his support when times were challenging with the boys. Someone who knew them but wasn’t directly involved, and wouldn’t tell me that I was doing it all wrong or laugh at me when I found it hard.

And things were very hard at times.

My eldest was waiting for an appointment with the autism diagnosis team. He has always been a wonderful little boy but I had known something was a little bit different from a very early age. Some of his behaviours were particularly difficult to manage, and without a diagnosis support is incredibly hard to come by. Add to that P had convinced my family that I was imagining things and there was no reason for anybody to pay attention to what I was saying. So having those strong arms to wrap me up when the job of being mum was almost overwhelming was just what I needed.

As lovers first, friends second and significant others third there was a strong bond in place already. 

As two quiet souls we enjoyed companionable silence, we also enjoyed heated debate and decent conversations. Cooking meals for each other became almost a competition, we quickly discovered that our book shelves contained some of the same recipe books so would try to better the last offering. Aside form prawns and olives we had very similar taste so it was always going to be a treat whoever cooked. As a single mum with two fussy children I had rarely had the time or inclination to cook a decadent meal for myself, and as a bachelor M had little motivation either. How things changed, along with our waistlines… It was a comfortable situation to be in, but our trousers did not offer the same comfort.

Kink wise I stepped away from the community I had started to engage with.

Not because he asked me to, on the contrary he was very supportive of me getting to munches and events. The problem came with my mindset. I did not get a large amount of child-free time, and it was certainly never something I could plan aside from the occasional weekend. I was also not used to being in a close relationship where I had freedom, where it was taken as given that I had strength and confidence. Yes, I had been owned by sir for almost 2 years, but our dynamic was not one of comfortable silences and gentle walks in the countryside; he had trained me to please him, and empowered me to start becoming a Strong Confident Woman. My brain did not compute and everything was very intense. I can see now the difference between love and attachment but at that point M and I were drowning in each other.

When the opportunities arose to spend time with M, my safe space, I jumped at them.

I was coming to the end of my counselling when we got together, but I had no idea how fragile I still was, how little of my marriage I had worked through, and how angry I was with the world around me. How angry I was with myself… All of these feelings were too raw, too big and too scary to deal with, and my friend and lover M gave me hope that the world wasn’t totally dark. At this point I believed that sir had convinced myself that sir had just wanted to get rid of me because I was a rubbish sub, I knew (without a doubt) that the problems within my marriage were my fault, and that when my children acted up it was a direct reflection of my parenting.

What a weight to be placed on one man’s shoulders?!

Particularly when he had never asked for that responsibility. He had suggested we become monogamous, he loved me as fiercely as I loved him, but it must have been hard going for him. I struggled to believe that he meant what he said, that he was actually enjoying our time together. To the world I was doing well, embracing life and moving forward, but wrapped up in the deep dark embrace of depression my world began to shrink again.

M was my bright star of hope in an otherwise dark sky. 

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Photo by Free Nature Stock on Pexels.com

TMI Tuesday: 22nd May 2018

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

1. If you had a whole week (no work, no kids) to do things with your significant other, what would you do? Whatever he decides is best.

2. What is your idea of a long-term relationship? Long-term doesn’t necessarily equate to time, I have known my friend R for 3 years now, and our irregular liaisons are still just about scratching an itch. Long-term is about a connection which is more than just satisfying the physical needs as they come up, about challenging one another to grow and learn. Sir has been in my head since 2014 and he patiently encourages me to grow though our physical time together has been limited, particularly with an 18 month hiatus. If I had tried to answer this question while I was married I dare say my answer would have been very different!

3. What is a healthy relationship? A healthy relationship for me is based on mutual respect, trust and acceptance. Love can take many forms, but is underpinned by those three things. The Power and control wheel was brought up for discussion in a group I recently attended. It shows so many things that were present in my marriage, which was very much not a healthy relationship. As someone who is deeply aroused by power exchange, male privilege and impact play (even before my vanilla marriage) I have a full understanding of the difference between abusive and healthy (respectful and consensual) relationships.

4. How did you meet your current (or last) lover? I’m busy this week with a task from Sir so the last lover that I saw is someone I met through fabswingers a couple of months back. Also, this is how I met Sir.

5. What is the first thing you do after having sex? That depends very much on who I’ve been having sex with… But on the whole I would probably have a drink first, or offer a drink to the person I have been enjoying! It is thirsty work after all.

Bonus: Do you have any bad habits that you hide from your significant other? You can tell us…or not. I think I must have bad habits, but don’t feel the need to hide them.

Click the link below and see how other people have responded

TMI Tuesday blog

 

Try imagining a space where it’s always safe and warm.

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I received a message from M one day while I was at work.

He was listening to The Cure in his workshop and while Love Cats was playing he immediately thought of me. We had been seeing each other on occasion for quite some time, he was a firm friend and I was taken aback by his open expression of interest. We had been talking on the phone most days and he was so supportive while I was going through counselling. With the message landing in my phone our relationship developed into something else, something much more. Immediately I was on YouTube, I thought I knew the son but wasn’t sure. Listening to the lyrics I was blown away, especially when he told me the following lines were what made him think of me:

So wonderfully, wonderfully, wonderfully
Wonderfully pretty!
Oh you know that I’d do anything for you

That was quite a hard thing to hear at the time. It made me smile and cry, all at the same time.

I had grown so much over the two years since meeting sir, but the damaged woman who had been abused by her husband for twelve years was never far below the surface. We arranged that I would visit him the following weekend, but it was too far away. The next evening he drove up to see me and found me while I sat on the beach after my late summer swim. I can still clearly remember the feel of his warm body wrapping around me while I watched the large moon rising over the cliffs and the fire in the sky raged behind me. Looking around into his face the world felt like a nice place again. We sat on the pebbles until the sunset had completely faded from the sky, and the sea breeze was chilling the warmth that was coming from that embrace. Picking up some food on the way home and then curling up in bed together we stayed awake into the early hours.

Talking, laughing and making love, generally getting lost in each other.

It felt comfortable and loving, not anything I had really been used to before. With P I had been made to feel uncomfortable and unloved, and with Sir I had always felt accepted, safe and secure but never snuggly… and certainly not comfortable, but my comfort was never the point. Things escalated with M fairly quickly from there. He asked if I would like to be in a monogamous relationship with him, and I that felt like the right thing to do. My desire for kink was in a lull at that point, I was still sad about Sir leaving, and though I had been involving myself with the fetish community I saw myself as an owned submissive without her dominant, and playing with others held little appeal.

M and I had enjoyed a number of kinky interactions over our casual relationship, so I knew that he would be able to scratch that itch when the time came.

He wasn’t a dominant in any way though, and the whole idea of being in a relationship where power exchange played any part made him feel deeply uncomfortable. This never posed a problem for me, or us. I didn’t need to submit to anyone else; as I had said to sir when he went away I was his, I didn’t know where this new adventure with M would take me, but I was ready to embrace life again. Him getting to know my boys properly after having spoken with them occasionally on the phone, and me spending time with his family was wonderful. It felt very much like a natural progression to our relationship and also a vital step in my recovery.  My little family of three (with occasional plus one) seemed to be working very nicely, and as time passed, when M was around I had a fully fledged grown up standing with me when I needed support. The decisions I had made for the children had previously had to endure P taking the opposite route to me. The stress levels in my home decreased dramatically, particularly when, following a challenging bedtime, there was a strong pair of arms to wrap me up.

To protect me from those demons of self-doubt that threatened to overwhelm me and my parenting.

Through my personal development with sir I had learnt that I had worth, but I feared that I was unloveable. I had not been able to see it. And here was my friend, my play mate, showing me that I was very much deserving the affection I had not known was out there. I still didn’t particularly need or understand these feelings, and the fear surrounding this particular form of vulnerability would appear eventually. For now though it was a warm safe space for this particular love cat to continue growing into the woman that she had never realised she would be.

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 Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

TMI Tuesday: 15th May 2018

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1. Who was your favorite cartoon character as a child? I always loved Dogtanian. It was one of the only cartoons I remember watching, I was usually out in the mud or chasing my brother round on my bike. He was always the quiet one, and the one who fixed things when the others were less than capable.

2. What makes you cry? I didn’t think a lot made me cry, aside from when I am very tired. But it seems that people (Sir in particular) can make me cry by showing me they have faith in me and my ability. I spend so much time working on myself and my growth that I sometimes forget A- How far I have come, and B- that other people can see it. It’s nice, and they are always happy tears.
3. What similarity between you and your significant other do you love? Oooof, I have made sure that people who are significant in my life are kind and thoughtful. I try to live my life that way and value that in others.
4. What characteristic do you admire in others that you feel you are lacking? I admire quick thinking. I am a thinker but it takes me a while to formulate my thoughts, and my comebacks are usually a bit slow. Also, it takes me a while to get a joke, unless it matches with my dry sense of humour.
5. If you could eliminate one thing from your daily schedule, what would it be? If I didn’t need to sleep I would be so much more productive!

Bonus: You can trade places with one person for a day, who would it be? I recently completed a wonderful course with my oldest son. It was all about recovering from domestic abuse, and opening up the lines of communication around healthy and safe relationships. It was such a challenging thing to do for so many reasons, but there have been so many positive outcomes for both of us. I met other mums and their children who have had similar experiences to me. One of the mums was only 6 months out of her relationship, and her three children all struggled in different ways with significant additional needs as a result of the trauma they have suffered. She was in such a state, understandably so. I would love to swap with her for a day; I think she could really use the day off!

TMI Tuesday blog

 

TMI Tuesday: 8th May 2018

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I have decided to take part in TMI Tuesday for the first time this week. I always enjoy other people’s answers so felt it was time to join in myself.

1. What makes you, you? I am authentically me, I am brave to the point of being foolish, and I am fiercely loyal to those who deserve it. I am curious, independent and bloody minded. I am kind, thoughtful and complex. I am a confident introvert who finds people endlessly fascinating. Still waters run deep, and the calm exterior that people see hides a deep-seated vulnerability.

2. Do you care more about doing the right thing or doing things right? Oh, this is a tough one… if something is worth doing it is worth doing right, but if I am not doing the right thing in the first place then no amount of doing it right is going to make it better. So, doing the right thing in the first place is what I care most about.
3. What is sexual freedom? Do you have it? Sexual freedom is having the mental freedom to fulfill your sexual needs without worrying what other people think. Discretion where it is needed, and making sure that no-one comes to any harm are important in my sexual freedom, but yes… I believe I do have sexual freedom.
4. In your romantic relationships, is trust more important than love? I think love and trust go hand in hand when it comes to any relationship on the spectrum, from friendship through romance to D/s. I can trust people I don’t love (professional relationships for example) but I can’t love without trust.
5. Your life, is it more of a dream or a nightmare? My life is definitely a dream. Not always the best dream, but with all of the good things to think about I couldn’t ever call it a nightmare. It has never been more than I could manage, I’ve never woken up screaming!

Bonus:  What is the last romantic thing you did for someone?

Oh NO! I am not a traditionally romantic person at all… I imagine that it was my most recent self-assigned stretching task for Sir: stuffing myself with as many wooden spoons as I could find (and a rolling pin) and sending him a picture. Who says romance is dead??

 

If you fancy joining in here is the link to TMI Tuesday.

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