Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Will the Real Cock Whore Please Stand Up?


Fuck it’s been a long time since I wrote . . . I utterly despise when life gets in the way of doing the things I love!  I started this blog with the ideal of writing my inner most thoughts about sexuality and, by default, my sex life.  I am amazed at how hard this is!  Whatever I write can be read by anyone (including the people I write about); do I really want them knowing that much about me?  I suppose the honest answer would be, no.  No, I really don’t.  But for the sake of learning I feel that a clear picture of a sexually complex relationship is a worthwhile quest.  In five years, I won’t remember how I felt last week unless I write it down . . . So, here goes, a close up and way-too-fucking-personal look at my relationship with my eccentric, bizarre, incredible absurdly amazing husband.  



I haven’t been writing lately, well I suppose the truth would be – I haven’t felt like writing lately.  Carl (hubby) and I were busy fighting for the better part of a week (hence my last blog. ).  It always seems that, for us – and likely many other couples, the real root of the fight is a lack of communication.  I find that even though we make conscious effort to clearly communicate there will always be hang ups and difficulty – sometimes major difficulty!  With this great exploration we do in our sex life also comes the need for open, honest, clear communication . . . but we are all human and we all make assumptions.  The old saying about how to assume is just to make an ass out of u & me is so very true.  Could you believe that Carl and I screamed and yelled and cursed at each other only to find out days later that it was just a stupid misunderstanding?  How fucking ridiculous is that?  Ok, let’s not dwell on that nasty part . . . it’s important and such a learning opportunity but I want to get on with the good part!
Now that the fighting is over, let’s get on with the making up. . . One of the collaborations that were made is that now Carl is my dom, full time.  Now, we don’t really do things “by the book,” so to speak, so I’ll explain what that looks like to us.  We aren’t “lifestylers,” meaning that we choose to keep our kinky sex and our regular lives somewhat separate.  In essence, Carl tells me what to do in the bedroom but he treats me as an equal in the other aspects of our life.  So, Friday night I’m ready for anything.  I was so nervous.  I had no idea what to expect out of this make-up sex!  :)  Carl made me stand in the living room and take photos for you while he tied me up.  I love being tied, it makes me feel so helpless and vulnerable and taken advantage of.  I am getting wet just thinking about it!  I “run” away during rough sex and being tied makes that more difficult for me.  On this particular evening I was being trained for black cock . . . unbeknownst to me Carl invited a couple of guys over for Saturday play!  He pushed me to my limits in every way Friday night.  By the time we were done every hole on my body was sore and satisfied. . . Then Saturday morning I woke up to a black cock! :)  Carl watched as a friend (whom I’ll call misdemeanor, just for fun!) used me and then filled my wet pussy with cum.  After a day filled with intense foreplay, teasing and touching Carl invited over another friend!  Even though Carl had worn me out the night before, this young man was determined to “sodomize” me! :)  Boy did he!  We stayed up all night and I got fucked until I could barely move (of course Carl has to have his turns in between . . . and, yes, I said turnS)!  By Sunday afternoon we were both so satisfied and content.  I felt more confident and comfortable with my lover than I ever thought possible.  



Carl knows me.  He knows my deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets and still finds me beautiful, funny, and fascinating.  I will always find that amazing.  It is almost as amazing to me as this idea of “the whole truth.”  As many other people, I was raised in a tight lipped family, I have avoided confrontation and conflict at almost any cost for the majority of my life.  I am dumbfounded every time that honesty (and often a fight or disagreement) results in a bonding experience more profound than I can even describe.  The knowledge that someone truly accepts me and still chooses to love me is almost overwhelming.  I suppose that is what we all seek – to be who we really are.  The fight to cover up or blend in can be exhausting.  After a week of fighting and honesty, we were able to walk away from this weekend truly content.   There we sat.  Completely content.  Basking in the sunshine enjoying a walk, a bowl, and each other’s company.  What a life. :)