Anonymity, Adultery & Amorous Affairs

It took me a month to write this...

2008-01-18T18:30:00.000-05:00

This will perhaps be my final entry for this blog. This space has helped me through a major life crisis, and has seen me through some of the darkest moments of my life. It has helped me critically analyze my thoughts, actions and behaviors in a time of desperate isolation. I have tried, over the past two years, to be as honest as I could here, that is, to the extent that I was aware of my own self. I realize now that there was so much more beneath the myriad levels of surfaces that I barely began to scratch in this endeavor. As I see it, this blog was created in an attempt to harbor my secrets from my husband. In a way, I wish I never created this site. I wish that I had just been more forthcoming with him on that trigger-day when I decided that I was attracted to M -- the man from work who started this whole mess so long ago.

And now that it is too late for childish wishing, now that my marriage-in-infancy comes to a close, I find it appropriate to also bring this medium of communication to a close. My life is changing drastically, and I have a tumultuous path ahead. It may be months, years, or maybe never... for me to fully grieve and mourn my loss of losing the man I believed for so long to be the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I know there are those readers out there who truly despise me for what I have done to my husband. I have broken his heart, this is true. But what is less observable is that my husband and I were of one heart, at some point, and so that broken heart is also mine to bear. It is so much easier to label me as perpetrator, as evil-doer, as cold-hearted bitch. And for those of this mindset, I offer nothing but compassion because it is apparent to me that the experience of pain runs so deep that it blinds us all to the true healing power of kindness.

Before I say my farewells however, I shall attempt to explain my current state of mind, state of living, and state of affairs. I have moved out of our home, back in with my parents. H and I have filed a separation agreement. We are sorting through the finances, and we have been living separate lives for almost two months. I suppose you could say we're taking the necessary steps toward divorce. Financially, it's going to be tough, probably for a few years, but manageable. I seem to be fortunate in that I am ably-employed, and so long as I continue to be able to work on my feet, I should be able to maintain my household without being dependent on my husband financially.

I am continuing to see YoungMan, despite all the advice of well-intentioned friends, family members and online self-help articles. I am seeing a therapist on my own to work through many of these relationship issues that I have recently discovered about myself, in light of what has happened with H. I am overcoming a dark & powerful, yet thankfully brief glimpse down that wretched alley of suicidal thoughts. I am battling the difficult judgments of disapproval, shame, and disappointment from my closest loved ones, and attempting to get through it all with some modicum of self-respect.

Throughout my relationship with H, I had been living multiple fractured lives. The "me" that I was with him was different than the "me" I was with friends, and different still from the "me" that I was with family. Sure, we all may show different faces of our selves to various people, but in this case, I don't feel I had an integrity of self that carried on strong from person to person. I merely reflected the roles that I thought others wanted me to perform. I found out too late that the "me" I was with H was someone I didn't want to be. And with all the dishonesty that I had built into all the relationships around me (from the time I was a child) I was able to live for far too long, in a skin that I, in actuality, did not want.

I've learned about certain emotional needs that I have. Needs that I was never aware existed, and so easily ignored. Needs that determined how happy I could be, and how happy I was. H fulfilled many of those needs early on in our relationship, but because I wasn't fully aware of which emotional triggers were most important to me, when a lack began to develop between us, I didn't know how to identify the problem. My lack of understanding then translated to my inability to communicate those needs to my husband. His lack of empathy for my unhappiness also led to a further drifting apart of our closeness -- our bond that should not have been so easily severed. These were seeds that had been sown two years ago, long before I ever let my heart stray into another man's open arms.

I know that there is a pattern I have now set -- a pattern of abandonment, where I leave the ones who love me. In every major relationship that I've had, it always ended because I strayed and chose to leave. In fact, in retrospect, I always subconsciously chose to leave first, and then I cheated, in order to leave the relationship for good. It was as if unless I cheated, there would be no good reason to up and leave the amazing person I was with. As if, I had to force myself to do something extreme and Unworthy, to make that other person not be able to stand to remain with me any longer. And if, for some miracle, that person decided that they wanted to stick around, then I still pushed the envelope and said goodbye. I think I'm starting to understand the reasoning behind all of this twisted behavior. I think in the past I've always chosen lovers who I knew would set me on a pedestal. I knew they would cherish me and hold me as if to never let me go. Given my independent nature, this is a surefire way to race down a path that feels constricting and eventually terrifyingly trapped. A coworker once said to me "damn, you're dangerous." Upon asking for clarification, he replied "well, it's like this: men fall in love with you too fucking fast. Right away they're head over heels for you, aren't they?" And as I thought about it, it's true. Or at least, it's true that they think they're falling for me. H -- 2 1/2 weeks and he tells me he's in love with me. FunBuddy -- 3 times of having sex together and he admits to thinking he's falling for me. CoworkerFriend -- slept with him once and he told me he completely understands why someone would want to marry me, in order to wake up next to me everyday. 5 Past Lovers going back 10 years -- all within a few weeks of spending time with me, they're in love, visions of happily ever after, and in fact a relationship always follows. Is it that I am so flattered by this love-at-first-sight mentality that I allow myself to be swept away by the romance of it all? That, despite any reservations I may have, I pursue a relationship because it simply feels so good to be loved? Perhaps it is true. I suppose now I seem to be questioning whether or not that's a stance to accept as a relatively healthy one to have, or to reject it as an unhealthy approach to relationships altogether. I really don't know, but I'm working on it.

The website, Marriage Builders was so helpful to me in understanding why my marriage got to where it is now. Ironically, a website that's supposed to help me fix the broken marriage that I'm in is actually more helpful as a tool for establishing guidelines for a future significant relationship. One of the things I've alluded to in this post that I've taken from this doctor's theories is the idea of "Important Emotional Needs". I urge anyone who even questions the stability of their relationship to read these theories. The writer clearly and succinctly outlines what he perceives as the things we search for in our relationships, that ultimately determine our happiness, feelings of love & loving others, and solutions to typical problems that arise from not having these needs met. The thing that surprised me the most was that throughout the progression of my relationship with H, I became less and less self-aware, as though H's love for me numbed my sense of self-growth and personal progress. When I read the list of emotional needs, I identified mine rather easily, and yet was surprised at what they were. Even more surprising was how accurate they were in the elements that were slipping away in my marriage with H. I can't help but question if I had known these things earlier... if I was more in touch with my innermost feelings, if maybe I would have had a better time communicating with H, and maybe it never would have come to this. However, hindsight is always 20-20, and the reality of the situation is that it has come to this. We are in fact here at this juncture, and I am in reality, a survivor. I hope that at some point my H and I can become friends and sort through what we've been through. I don't know how possible that is, given the intensity of our relationship, but I would like that eventually.

Right now I am focused on regaining my sense of self-control and self-awareness. I'm taking the necessary steps to move forward in my life financially, healthfully, emotionally, and relationally. My new relationship with YM is amazingly fulfilling, and I find great joy in spending time with him. I'm experiencing brand new levels of vulnerability that are challenging for me, and frightening. But I'm aware of it and able to head it off at the start from turning into indifference and emotional distancing. He's able to read me so easily and can sense my every reaction, in ways I've never experienced, or felt so welcomed with another person. I have the feeling that our future is bright, but I'm not going to fall into my typical trap of envisioning perfection at every step. I've learned to accept my need for "imperfect space" -- the ability to say that I've failed, that it's okay, and to learn from those mistakes, rather than aspiring blindly and working hard for ultimate perfection consistently, such that even the tiniest of errors leads to an unbearable pain of disappointment in myself. I'm learning to quiet those disenfranchising voices that are persistently degrading my spirit and my strength. I think that YM has a great deal to do with how far I have come, in feeling accepted, despite my flaws, in feeling loved, because of them. There is something between us that allows us to be incredibly forgiving and open with one other. But I think ultimately it's the level of awareness that permeates our relationship that draws strength into our bond.

All in all, I'm feeling strong, calm, and in-touch. I feel as though my tender sapling is able once more to grow roots in fertile soil, and I am filled with hope that one day I can grow to have the grace, strength and beauty of a firmly planted and generously fruiting gift-tree. Until then, I shall find fulfillment in whatever bounty I can muster.

Thank you once again, to my readers who have been so kind as to drop by with notes and emails. I may end this blog temporarily, or permanently; I have yet to decide. Until I decide, this will probably remain online as is. I'm sure some day I will either change it or end it for good. I hope peace may come to all those in need of it. And I wish you all the best in life. Namaste.

Even More is Changing

2007-12-15T18:16:00.001-05:00

I have gone to see an individual therapist, to help sort through all the confusion that I have been living. When I was sitting there explaining the situation to her, I was shocked and appalled at what picture I was painting. But that picture is the very thing I have been avoiding, and the very truth I have not wanted to admit for a very long time. Much of it I held back in couples' counseling, and even held back from myself.

When H and I first began our journey together, it was almost as though I was a blank slate. I was a young adult just coming into the world, with few attachments and tons of dreams. The world was at my fingertips, and my passion for life was inspiring and contagious. H reflected my passion back to me, and was experienced, full of knowledge and had a wisdom of his own. He allowed me to be free in all of my creative endeavors. For the first time in my life, I felt fully celebrated and cherished. I thought "this is a good man -- a man I want to have in my life". Only, there were two things that bothered me and I let them sit aside. One thing, I believed to be unnecessary, really a fool's hope, and the other, I thought would go away. The first thing I have never admitted anywhere... that our first kiss, and subsequently most every kiss thereafter, lacked the spark, the zing, the passion that I had hoped for. But the sex was good. So I thought "perhaps he just doesn't like kissing". I didn't think that passionate kissing could be so important. Perhaps it was just a romantic image of puppy love, and I thought that a mature and honest relationship meant letting go of such images. The second thing, which has been the entire issue at hand, was his immediate closing off to the idea of polyamory and an open relationship. These two aspects were the only "cons" in deciding whether or not I wanted to pursue a relationship with him, and the "pros" significantly outweighed them. Now, as we are facing a real separation, I am floundering to remember what all those "pros" were, and in fact I am questioning the entire process by which I came to such a decision.

I realize now that each one of us has personality traits that exhibit themselves in both beneficial and harmful manners. There is no real list of "pros" that remain in that column for good. In fact, we oscillate our heads and tails constantly, and it's through these various interactions that we navigate the best path. We each attempt to seek a balance in life that allows for more benefit than harm, but sometimes lines get blurred and crossed. I wonder if maybe I decided to marry for wrong reasons. If my sight was blurred by the prospect of perfection. I really thought that H was perfect for me. Why couldn't I see that notion as problematic? Why couldn't I allow imperfection into the early stages of our relationship so that we would know how to deal with real problems as they arise. Instead, we both operated under such an extreme sense of delicate beauty that now real trouble has no stable base from which to evolve. Instead, I am finding myself running away, emotionally vacant for any sort of reconciliation.

I have been reading more about divorce and the whole process of it, emotionally, financially, etc. I've discovered even more about what truths I don't want to admit... It feels like I don't have the patience to "work through" our marriage troubles. I, as the "Leaver" in this relationship, have been experiencing an emotional detachment from my husband for well over a year. I have hindered good communication with him by deliberately avoiding various subjects. I have hidden an entire chunk of my sexuality from him (not just hiding my desires to experience other people, but even the waning of sexual satisfaction between us), simply to avoid the emotional messiness involved. I don't blame H at all for any of my detachments, but I do mourn the loss of our path together. I also feel extremely responsible for bringing this situation to reality. However, I am finished with feeling responsible for his emotional state. This is something I have to come to terms with; for entirely too long, I have taken his emotional health in my own hands -- the ups, the downs, everything in my eyes was dependant upon my actions and my behaviors. But his world can not revolve around me. He made me the source of all his happiness, and I allowed that to continue on. And in return, I led him to believe the same... that he was the only source of my happiness. It was an ego boost for both of us, but one that ultimately lacked a true depth of honesty and integrity. I don't see how a relationship based on this sort of foundation can just heal and move forward. It seems to me that the whole thing must be razed and rebuilt from scratch. And in all honesty, if I am going to start from scratch, I'd like to do it in full consideration of the aims and goals I'd like to see happen in the future, from financial & business goals to emotional, sexual, relationship and family visions. This means an entire remodeling of my life. I'd like to say I still have hopes that this future has room for my H, that I would like him there, but everything he is telling me now says otherwise. He and I don't share similar goals, financially, sexually, or in terms of family. I had believed that all of our "life-changing" decisions were based on teamwork and true concensus, but it's becoming clear to me that in fact we made too many important decisions based on wanting to please the other and not facing our selves honestly. Not healthy.

Where does my relationship with YoungMan lie in all of this? H thinks that my decision to keep seeing him is not a good one; that, not only is it continuing to break H's heart, but he thinks I'm mistaken to believe that this other relationship could be at all beneficial to me. It may be true that statistically, relationships that begin with deceit (ie. from an adulterous affair) end eventually. And it may be true that what might develop between me and YoungMan is tainted with this separation from my H. Tainted with psychological shit -- unresolved crap that might arise again between us. I can't foresee the future any more than the next person, so I really don't know what will happen. However, I do know that on a personal, individual level, I am committed to bringing out the skeletons of my closet, and dealing with them as honestly as I can. And as long as YoungMan is open to being honest with me, as best as he knows how, then all we can do is take it one day at a time. I know that I am still dealing with my relationship with H. I haven't signed him or us off completely. I know that it will probably continue for a long time, and may never come to full resolution. But given the results of this phase of my mental clarity, I do think this separation is the best decision at this point. So I will be moving out over the next week. Just in time for the holidays...

Finally, some clarity...

2007-12-04T22:42:00.000-05:00

...even if it is just a tiny bit of it.

This evening my H and I had the closest to what I would call a real "heart-to-heart". A discussion where we weren't always just reacting to each other's tones, tempers and slight of words. Where, if any of those things did pop up, we'd recognize them, and immediately remedy them. For the first time in a while, I can say, this really does feel like progress. Over the past two weeks I've had the ability to open up to people, others, friends, family members, in ways I've never imagined, and I've really felt comfortable in what I can say, and how to say it. As though, yes, this is ME talking. And look, I don't have to hide behind any thick mask either!

This weekend was probably the most difficult test of faith and strength for both me and H. I came pretty close to running away from everything, taking the whole mess with me and not allowing him another step toward reparations, not allowing him any more participation in my emotional life. Whether that meant physically removing myself from our home, or emotionally demolishing our bond through self-destructive sabotage, I was just about ready to pluck the life out of this failing marriage. But I knew that my desire to run away was a knee-jerk reaction and that any decisions I made on my own, without his acknowlegment or acceptance would be a clean and final blow to our relationship.

Yesterday, I began being honest with H about my deepest dissatisfactions in our relationship, and about where I am right now. All the things I said to him were so obviously painful and hurtful, that I hated myself for causing him such pain. I realized today that all these things that added up to my unhappiness were the very result of my own insecurities, my tendencies to hide annoyances, to hide dissatisfactions, to hide minor desires, because of the fear of conflict and the fear of disappointment/disapproval. The very desire to please others (namely H) is the root cause of my own stifling of Self. This is a battle over Self that I have been knee-deep in for all 5 years of our relationship. And it slowly built up enough steam that I began acting out in ways I never imagined. In fact, in the midst of it all, I couldn't get a grip over my behavior, and I just couldn't understand where the fuck I was coming from. What has come over me? Why am I so driven to behave in such a rebellious manner? Am I just having fun? There's just so much confusion over what I want, and that's what needs to get sorted out before anything else can move forward.

Today, H and I talked and this time the honesty was good -- still painful -- but good. It wasn't coming from a place of rebellion. It wasn't camoflauged in niceties. It was honesty on a level that is secure and true to my own individual person connecting with H's own individual person. For the first time since all of this began, I actually feel safe. What's ironic is that the decisions we've made leave many questions unanswered. Yet, we were still able to talk about specific points of action (or inaction in our case) clearly and frankly with one another. I felt good for the first time in a long while about giving anything to my H; that is, giving slack, giving leeway, compromising. I've generally always been somewhat reluctant in compromising with him and didn't quite like that fact about myself. But tonight, I gave something freely, and that felt remarkable.

Basically, he agreed that I need a "time-out", from lots of things, but mainly from him. It's not exactly feasible for me to move out of our house quite yet, so we talked about what this extra space entails, and how we can achieve that while living under the same roof. We also talked about what he needs from me in order to give me this space. (More on this in another post, probably.) This buffer-cushion is a temporary zone of individual development, in order for me to work through what I need to work through -- whatever that includes. Primary in my mind is deciding once and for all if having an open marriage is something that I can not live without. And the flip-side of that is deciding if I'm willing to sacrifice H for this unknown lifestyle. Also issues of importance: personal behavioral patterns that are harmful to my core, through repetitive action; interpersonal behavior that gets in the way of true intimacy with others; establishment of boundaries; finding the courage and strength to demand personal time for individual growth and development. There's a lot of shit here to work on. I hope that the time apart from each other will allow me the opportunity to really establish what it is I really want. I'm just a bit emotionally exhausted right now in the midst of it all.

Thank you to my commentors for your honest feelings and regards. Thank you particularly, HankMoody for your very in-depth note. All of your responses have helped me think about what it is I need to do, and where I need to go. I hope that where we all end up is, at the very least, a better place than where we started.

is it time?

2007-11-25T19:33:00.000-05:00

YoungMan and H are both saying the same thing to me: "what do you want?" For someone who has been so sure for so long about what she wants out of life, why am I finding it so difficult to take this next step? My wants, my needs, my physical and emotional desires... they are all at odds with one another. And the "shoulds" are speaking so loudly, shouting, and they are so strong, but I know I can not be led by "shoulds" alone. H and I could never have a fulfilling marriage if it is only obligation that keeps us together.

What *do* I want??

. a fresh start with YoungMan
. stability with H
. a place of my own
. a long and happy life with H
. the time and capacity to "date"
. to be "single" and still have H in my life
. more time to spend with YoungMan, guilt-free
. a shared life with H, where we can each wander in and out of it
. fulfilling sex, and lots of it
. for H to be less insecure

--------------------------------------------

I used to be proud to say that I am relatively "low-maintenance" as a romantic partner. I generally don't demand very much, I don't need constant affirmation, I don't nag, I don't need to be treated like a princess to be happy, I don't need lots of gifts and material objects. In fact, it's the very simple pleasures that elicit the most deeply profound joys... but it seems the few desires that I do choose to voice are simply too much for most men to handle. I fucking like sex -- keep me satisfied and I will coo and curl up in your arms and adore you. If you find you can't keep me occupied, then let me find other avenues. Is that so much of a challenge to a man's sense of machismo?

My H's insecurities are something I need to respect. I understand that certain things make him feel very vulnerable. The fact that he is aware of these things and trusts me enough to expose himself in this way is wonderful and says a lot about where he places me in his scheme of things. The fact that it has taken me 5 years to expose my deep vulnerabilities with him says something about me and where I stand in our relationship. This whole time that I've been "protecting" him from feeling the pain of my truths means I haven't trusted him, and I haven't trusted our relationship to withstand my weaknesses. It seems apparent that my instincts were right... that neither he nor our relationship can take the abuse of my darkest desires.

I think I want to take a time-out. I need to re-group, and find my center again. There's too much confusion. Love is everywhere. Love is all around. And yet it's not about love. It's about knowing yourself, knowing your own needs, and choosing to live in such a way that you get them fulfilled, without hurting the people around you. And in this situation, I'm just not sure if that's possible. I'm not sure if H can have his needs met by me without creating a situation that will ultimately hurt me, and I'm not sure if I can have my needs met by him. I'm even less sure of what YoungMan and I can give to one another, and I don't want to use that blossoming relationship as a crutch either. Whatever happens between us, I want to happen spontaneously, freely, and from a place within -- not as the result of a rebound, or the whole host of external factors.

H and I are "talked-out" right now. Every conversation we have is loaded with painful emotions, and heavy meaning. We're both seeking distraction right now, to avoid the situation between us. When we talk again, maybe I'll have the courage to ask for that time-out.

Digging Deeper

2007-11-22T10:15:00.000-05:00

"According to a recent national survey, one quarter of all adults experience painful loneliness at least every few weeks..." (source) One quarter! That's a significant chunk of the population.

At last week's session, the therapist focused a lot on me, once more. We talked a lot about loneliness, alienation, estrangement, and other emotions that are believed to be rooted in childhood experiences. I've always known that episodes of feeling blue have always come over me at regular intervals. I've generally accepted it as passing fields of energy, spiritually-cleansing phases, and regular, routine check-ups -- like a systems diagnostic. These moments might last 1-2 days, and would pass with no residual heaviness. But at that previous session, I was challenged by the therapist's (and my H's) probing, feeling as though perhaps that continual sense of disconnected separation was in fact symptomatic of something larger. I'm not convinced that's necessarily the case, and I'm not convinced that psychology has the solutions for me or for any of my "problems". I'm just not convinced. However, I am committed to working on it, for my husband and for our relationship.

Therapy does have a way of forcing you to face extremely fearful things about yourself. And at the same time allowing unresolved issues -- issues that no one wants to change, but everyone needs to change -- the room to develop into something else. For me and my husband, there were quite a few things left under the table that we both allowed to go unmentioned. There still are. I suppose everything that has happened, everything I've allowed to happen, everything I've made happen, has occurred because I actively needed a change, for whatever reasons. Therapy has helped us both to figure out what those circumstances were, why they've been that way, and how to approach even the possibility of changing how things are currently.

For me, there are at least a few things I've wanted/desired/needed in our marriage that I wasn't actually getting. And I didn't own up to them for fear of losing H, for fear of being rejected, and ultimately, for fear of my own choice in possibly leaving him.

We've come up with some actions and agreements that are designed to help us mitigate this unfocused path we're treading -- specific practices and exercises to see what we can do to get where we both want to be. They're baby-steps, but steps nonetheless in the right direction.

I've realized two major needs that I've ignored, and not had the courage to ask for from my H: 1) more personal "free time" -- time that is completely my own, that I don't have to answer to anyone but my self, time that isn't shared with him, time that I choose whatever it is I want to do, with no demand on his part to partake in my endeavors. Sex in my mind does fall within this category, but we've both agreed to temporarily prohibit that. His insecurities are too overwhelming to cope with even the idea of me having sex with other people, let alone face the truth of it. The second need I've ignored: Different faces of sex between us. Over the course of our relationship, our mutual love has grown, and the sex has developed into "love-making" only. I have extremely varied desires in all aspects of sex, and by falling into this rut with H, I've allowed a gaping hole to develop between us. I've made assumptions about what he's "comfortable" with concerning sex, and I've actively avoided pushing those boundaries. Instead, I've chosen to fulfill those needs in other ways, through fantasy, and through other men. Our therapist believes that it is possible for married couples to push those comfort boundaries, with a lot of work and with a lot of trust. It never occurred to me that it's easier to trust a stranger with your desires than it is to trust a loved one, especially one who is so cherished. And yet, that is exactly the case.

I don't know what the future holds, with my H, with YoungMan, or with myself. I know that I need to trust myself more and really believe that my desires are as important as those I choose to love, and be willing to share them. This is a surprisingly difficult task with H, but I am working on it. And with each day that continues, life goes on.

and the pendulum swings again

2007-11-15T04:37:00.000-05:00

H and I have been talking about limits, trying to navigate our way through the thicket. Understanding what each of our limits are, seeing where we'd like our limits to go, and wondering out loud if one can ultimately withstand the others' limits. My husband has expressed time and again that he absolutely can not deal with me falling in love with someone else. This is the area of pain that resurfaces and triggers the most violent suffering on his part. This is what makes him the most insecure, of all my actions.

As time moves on, things with H are becoming a bit easier and somewhat smoother. That's not to say that our issues don't flare up often, just in a seemingly more controlled fashion. We're continuing to actively resolve our problems, and I think that's really what I wanted out of all this. It seems I was feeling stifled by the level of perfection we were experiencing, and to some extent, I can see that perhaps I sabotaged what we had, in order to pop my own bubble of what I thought we had.

And now it is YoungMan I worry for. I've seen him twice since we were supposed to say our goodbyes, and we had sex both times. We have yet to talk about the love issue, though we've been keeping in touch mostly via text messaging, occasional emails and a phone call here and there. I am definitely getting the feeling that he is approaching *his* limits in not being able to see me as much as we'd like, and basically being the "other man". I feel like there was this explosion that happened, that threw all three of us out into the sky and we were all flying in a way. We each experienced the launching of our bodies with different responses, different sensations -- some good, some excitement, some anxiety, some fear, and now it's like we're starting to float back down, and where each of us lands is partly by choice, partly directional steering, and partly by chance. As we're settling back down we're discovering what each of our limits actually is, and we're each faced with real hard choices. Can H and I move forward if he ends up in the lake, while I am climbing mountains? Will the jungles of YoungMan's landing keep him from finding me? These are the questions that deal with the future and I really hate making such types of commitments. And yet I'm drawn to them, drawn to people who really need these types of commitments from me.

I've left much out of this post, as I was limited in time. There really is a whole shitload of stuff to sort through...

What is the status?

2007-11-08T18:34:00.000-05:00

I am beginning to come to terms with the truths we all share, and the lies we all hide behind. Recognizing these elements has given me exactly the freedom I have been yearning, the freedom without a name, the freedom without a face. My husband and our therapist have been asking me extremely difficult questions, questions I've been avoiding for so long. Questions I've feared, questions I've tried to get around without truly asking myself. H has been doing amazingly well, given the extent of the hurt and the wounds that have opened between us. He is recognizing things that I've longed to communicate to him, all on his own, without my initiative. He is stronger than he thinks he is, and I am more compassionate than I've ever thought I could be. The status of where we are is... Unsteady. H has brought up the idea that perhaps a separation might be a solution. I keep fighting against that. His insecurities and wounded pride flare up over things that would never have triggered such emotions in the past. Hair in the sink, my 'true' whereabouts, days at work, things that make his mind wander to alternate possibilities. I understand these fears. I've experienced them myself, with him, with others. Insecurities that breed jealousy and fear. Insecurities that make your imagination go wild. Early in our relationship, H had beautiful connections with friends from his past. He and I were so new at the time, and I had no clue where I fell, with respect to those other relationships. I was very insecure. I read his emails in secret. I listened in on his phone calls. I pretended to be asleep when in actuality I was awake, so that I could overhear their deeply intense, drug & alcohol induced late-night conversations. I know how disgusting that feels to be there, and I know how small that type of insecurity makes you feel. I would never wish that upon my H, or upon anyone. Those feelings I think are natural to feel, and they are not only acceptable, but necessary. These are the points in life that are accentuated by the decisions we make -- they are truly crossroads, where we must be emphatic in whatever choices we make. These are the times for the most important examinations that will impact the rest of our lives. My life. H's life. He has his own decisions to make, his own choices, his own paths to investigate. I personally think that it's in both of our best interests to continue allowing for our paths to remain near each other. Perhaps not on top of, identically, but definitely Near.

There are so many details... and they are floating all around me in snippets, in images, in sounds. I can not fully articulate them all here, but as they come, I shall try. The issues between me and H have been brewing for so long, and my superior ability to ignore them and overlook them have put us in this corner, struggling against an invisible monster -- it attacks us when we least expect it, at times when we're most vulnerable and disappears when we're most ready to fight it. And so we're left confused, dazed, and yet we're still standing. Life keeps swirling on around us, and brief moments of clarity step forth to keep us going.

I am still talking to YoungMan -- it is something that I have actively chosen. I have not made this clear to H, and so it may be that I am bringing a fog over us. But that is my choice. WDKY and Anonymous have both criticized my actions as lacking in responsibility, filled with cowardice and unfulfilling, as appropriate action. I don't deny any of those claims. I am not going to defend any of my actions here in this arena, as this is not that place to do so. This blog is my space, to write as I see fit, and I will not allow my safe-haven to be poisoned. That being said, I always welcome challenging inquiries, as I am aware that varying perspectives do ignite analysis and examination in ways not otherwise possible. I only request that they be presented as such, and not cloaked in judgment, hatred, and pure emotional violence. It does no good for anyone here.

YoungMan and I share a connection that is, best put, In the Momentary. We experience the act of living exactly as it occurs. Our thoughts, our actions, our present states bounce off each other and we are simply beings that enjoy each others' company. Present states change into newer present states, and with that comes radical shifting of emotional expressions between one another. The whole range of feelings flow through unoccupied channels between us. It's an incredible experience, really. There is no real justifiable way to compare what I have with YoungMan to what I have with H. They are completely separate states of being. Different parts of my mind, spirit and heart are touched and engaged with these two, and I'm okay with that. Is it true that I am not considering their outcomes, that I am just power-hungry and taking taking taking whatever I can from each of them? That's a judgment call that every onlooker can decide for themselves (or already has). The only judgments I am concerned with are those of my self, my H, and of YoungMan's. All others fall to the side, and eventually dissipate into the ether.

I am still hopeful for coming into our own, self-identified acceptance. Acceptance of ourselves, of one another, of the circumstances, of the lives we each choose. Through all of this, I am still hopeful.

How Can I Do It?

2007-11-03T08:35:00.000-04:00

Sex. That's all it was supposed to be. YoungMan and I stepped into this situation with all the same expectations. It was going to be NoStringsAttached. We had amazingly hot sex one night, and we just wanted more of it. That's all there was to it. So why couldn't we remain in that realm? Perhaps we were too similar and our fates were already wound together, even without our knowledge. The way we talk, the way we walk side by side, the way we laugh and joke and play and fuck -- it's all so easy, so natural, so good. We've brought out beautiful things in one another and the time we've spent together feels like it was in a vacuum, free of the natural constraints that time and space place on matter.

On Thursday, I faced the most difficult challenge I have ever come across. How do you confess to being in love with someone and then in the next breath ask for time apart? And still that's exactly what happened. We both knew it was happening all along. We both felt our heart-strings singing an ancient song, and while our conscious selves were trying to ignore it, our transcendent beings danced in the revelry of it all. On Thursday, I went to go see YoungMan in person, after having not seen him in almost two weeks. Twelve days is all we could manage being apart. After twelve days of only text messeges, emails and phone calls, I finally saw his sweet, lovely, beautiful face. And the mere sight of him filled me with such strength. As though all of my questions were answered, as though Life gave me a gift of assurance and the understated single head-nod of affirmation, his smiling eyes took me to a plane of simple, unmediated joy.

And yet, the purpose of that visit... was to make a break. At the last session with the therapist, H, Dr. and I all "agreed" that I should stop all communications with YoungMan. Though I know rationally that it's probably best for the mending of wounds between me and H, I do not want this for me & YoungMan. The uncertainty of the future carries with it so much possible loss, and I fear the tender bud of our connection will not weather a harsh winter of dormancy. I fear his heart will harden and say its goodbyes to me, to us, to this relationship-in-infancy. We spoke of all this when we saw each other. I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth. I actually asked him to wait for me. I've never asked that of anyone. I've never allowed myself to be so vulnerable to loss, to rejection, to the possible answer of 'No.' But I did, and after having seen him, I believe he will, and is doing exactly that. There is something strong, vibrant and resilient between us, and despite all the uncertainty, I know that we have something special that will carry on.

I told H that I would attempt a real go at being sexually exclusive with him. He is still hurting and insecure about the sex-stuff and all the comparison issues that come along with knowing about others, and I understand that only the knowledge and trust that all that has stopped can give him the security to begin his healing. I also told him that I know it will be difficult for me, and I hope he can be understanding of that. I can feel that this new arrangement will be heavy on me, and I know that I am at the edge of a very deep, dark pit, easily teetering into a long fall of cold and darkness. At the same time I know that this whole situation has in fact brought us closer. I've opened myself to H in ways I never imagined I ever could. And our interactions together have reflected more of an awareness toward one another than ever before. I think this will be a very difficult path, but one that already has presented us with more closeness and more mutual respect for one another.

H has said to me that maybe he can change. That it will take time, but that he thinks he may be able to change. I don't know what that means at all, but if it's being said to give me hope, then it's working. Though I feel emotionally tired, trying to sort through all these issues, there is still a thread of optimism that runs through me. I don't know how, but I feel deep down that things will work themselves out eventually. I do know however that I have an incredible support network all around me of caring individuals (online and offline), and I'm so lucky for that. Thank you to everyone here who has offered your kindness to me. You will never know how much it has helped me through these extrememly difficult times. I hope to respond to emails and questions that have been presented to me here in time. There's still a lot of murkiness to get through, but it's all going to take time. I'm beginning to feel once more that time is indeed my friend... here again, one day at a time.

I do not feel like writing.

2007-10-31T17:44:00.000-04:00

I do not feel like writing. I do not feel like cleaning. I do not feel like doing anything of any importance. The only thing I want to do I cannot do because I have injured my ankle. Our latest session with the counselor has peeled back a few more layers, and I'm not sure that I was ready for such exposure. I am tired. I feel emotionally spent and I feel like doors are closing all around me. Agreements are being made and I feel like I'm being held captive and signing on the dotted line because I'm tired and thirsty and I just want to get out. I don't know what's best, for us, for me, for him. I know what I want and I know that right now it's an impossibility.

People enjoy being around me because I'm carefree, because I'm honest, because I make them playful and honest with themselves. People love me because I fill them with joy and they know my caring is true and faithful. And yet as time goes on, when I expose what it is I need to remain carefree, it is too much to give to me. The worry, the anxiety, the pain, the insecurity all come crashing in with an unbearable weight. Attachment has settled in and I am grasped. My needs for exploration and a long, very long leash is often an impossibility because I have made it seem that the short leash is all that I need. My unerring faithfulness has blinded him to my desires for freedom. And when I pull back the sideblinders, he stands, kicking in fright, as the visual noise comes tumbling in around him -- all the dangers, all the blaring brightness that shrinks his pupils, constricts his veins and makes his heart beat as though death is on its way.

And then there's YoungMan's pain. With new circumstances on the horizon, a dark, shadowed cloud hovers over us. And the tears of heavy sky fall down all around us. We are marked. I want to peer into the future, simply to know what happens between us. One way or the other, I want to know so that we may have some sense of what to expect. Feelings are so strong, but will they remain? Can our connection truly stand the test of time? Can we pause for a day, a week, a month, a year? People change over time, and life journeys are transformed. What are the chances that who we are then will continue to beat in rhythm as we do now? But then there's also the magic of two people bumping along beside one another, who's footpaths weave in and out through trees, through meadows, along streams, and they are unaware of the other's presence, until one day it becomes obvious that they've travelled together for so long, have been together for so long. That magic is real, and I believe in it. It's rare, but it's real. I know I've experienced it, and I'm thoroughly grateful for those glimpses into the brightest clarity this life can offer.

I am not much of a religious person, but I believe that the closest thing to Divinity is being able to make contact with the innermost, genuine, and honest spirit-center of another person. I've always believed that various people enter your life for profound reasons, and all it takes is recognizing the pause between breaths to peer into and experience the sanctity within them. I do have faith that what's happening between me & H and me & YoungMan is for good reason. Absolutely there could have been better ways at getting to where we're headed, but this life is, after all, imperfect. Without those cracks and shadows, there would be no way of knowing that our blood pumps red, that our skin shivers cold, and that air travels through our lungs shaky and fast when we go to extreme lengths. Extremes that outline how fragile and how sacred our humanity truly is.

An old saved post, and then some

2007-10-28T14:53:00.000-04:00

I wrote this on the 23rd.

still not coherent or energized enough to write clearly, or articulate matters. so much talking, so much confusion. so much emotion. he is clearly aching to a further extent than I. and that is natural. he keeps saying he doesn't blame me and he tells me it's such a normal thing. affairs happen all the time. it's two separate issues, and they keep getting muddled. my request for freedom. muddled by the discovery of another man. he never wanted to know. he always wanted to be in the dark, to preserve this bubble of innocent love that existed between us. and I was right. he knew deep down that I was out there, playing on the side. and i was right. he never wanted to know for sure. fuck if only I could have kept this emotional experience a secret too, we could have kept on going... but the caveat. the arrangement between us was if there ever arose something more than just sex, we had to talk about it. so here we are. talking about it. and crying. and experiencing loss.

-----------------------------

And now, today (28th of October):

Wow. I don't even know where to begin. It's been six days since my last post and so much has happened. H and I have gone to see a therapist. I haven't seen YoungMan in over a week. And time keeps moving forward. So many questions to answer. So many things upon which to meditate. It is unending. During the first 3-4 days of everything having come out into the open, there was so much pain and agony. I did not know whether it would ever end. I was unsure if H could ever feel the same for me ever again. Same is maybe not best, but I was so full of fear that he could not truly love me for who I am, for all my pitfalls, for all my imperfections. We indeed had an idyllic relationship. We indeed had arguments, fights, passionate fights about issues large and small, but that just added to the perfection of our life together. And what is that perfection? How can it be described? This is one thing that the therapist asked of us. She questioned why, after learning about the affair, after learning about my desires and about the seeming incompatibility of that with H's needs, why did we want to remain married? What do we each get out of our being together? Because we both know that true perfection is in fact an impossibility, what could that word possibly mean? And today, I touched on something toward that definition.

Presence is something I have been focused on lately. Presence of being, presence of mind. I know I have spoken of the budding relationship with YoungMan in these terms. When we are together, when we spend time together, there is nothing else in the world except for who we are at that moment, in that space. All else in the universe falls to the side and we are pure beings together. My FunBuddy and I have a similar relationship together. We move in and out of each other's lives, and when we're out, it's okay. Everything's alright because when we're in, we're in so fully and completely, and that is all that is needed. And my H... well, we are so Present in each other's lives, in every moment that exists... that it is truly perfection on earth. I realized during our talk with the therapist that the immensity of that Beauty is overwhelming to me. We both cherish it so much, and want to preserve that state to such an extent that I am troubled by it. It is a pressure that I fear will consume me. It is the very source of my discomfort. Much like a rose dipped in wax, it is for admiring from afar, but it is trapped in time, merely a sliver of its true path in life. What is alive is meant to experience a host of emotions and states of existence. What is alive is meant to feel the entire range of Feeling, from the depths of gutteral despair to the intensity of joyous expression. The committment to a shared life together is something that requires the ability to move out of various states and through to the next ones together, the agreement to take ecstasy and grief together and move forward through time, actively engaging in everything that life has to offer.

The conflict that arises is about sharing time. It's all well and good to be present and in the moment with those you're sharing time with. But how does one regulate those moments? In the life of marriage and monogamy, there are assumptions that keep the finite details simple. Time is shared with friends and family. That is all. Intimate, loving feelings that allow for friendship, fraternity and sex are reserved for Spouse. That is all. Simple. So you know how to regulate time. You know how to say, "Hunny, I'm going to spend Saturday with my sister. I'll see you when I get home. I may be late getting home, so don't wait up!" But there is no room to replace 'sister' with 'lover'. There is no room to say "I enjoy feeling a special, shared connection within an erotic affair with others." It creates feelings of insecurity and it melts the glue of assumptions that holds so many fragile pieces together. Is it so bad to let that glue remain?

We are asking ourselves these very questions, but the fact is, things have already changed. The veil of assumptions has already been peeked under, and what darkness that lies beneath it has already crept under our shared skin. There is so much more to say. So much more to analyze. Tomorrow is a new day. And with each new day, the pain does lessen, slowly.

that curve ball thing...

2007-10-22T21:18:00.000-04:00

What has happened to my home? I've been creating this life, this fairy-tale marriage with my husband, filled to the brim with beauty, joy, and sheer delight. I've taken my fill of profound love, and still I desired *more*. I carved out a space on the side for fun and sexual experimentation, took that to its limits, and still I desired *more*. I dabble in infatuation and emotional connections, and still I desired *more*. It's then I find the golden egg, in an intimate, caring, expressive, erotic love affair. And it's like a hurricane that tears apart that happy home, leaving you exposed to all the elements. Leaving you raw. Torn to shreds. And there is despair staring at you right in the face. Depths of darkness you never knew existed, let alone experienced. And all the while, as the winds burn your skin straight off the flesh, and the cold of harsh wet rain shooting pellets against that exposed tissue, and the trees so large, so tall, so strong and rooted begin to fly as an albatross across the skies, all the while, you're wishing to just die from the pain. At least be knocked unconscious because living through this suffering just can not be called living one bit. And you scramble to find warmth, so you press your body against the next person despite your wounds, and despite his open sores, and the warmth of life soothes all the hurt and all the ache for just a second. The warmth gives you reason to push on through and maybe you don't want to die afterall. But then there's a numbness that settles into your bones that makes you wonder if perhaps this is it. This must be the bottom of hell. Hell is not a place of fire and burning. It is ache. It is suffering at such a depth that you lose all reason to live.

It is here in this space of hell, that my husband and I have visited, and are currently occupying.

But how can I illustrate the moments of clarity that have arisen from the cruel reality of our shared pain? The honesty that was revealed about my desires, my search for fulfilling what was lacking. I never wanted to admit there was a lacking, but in the talking, the truth came out. The need for freedom. Mental, sexual, emotional freedom. And all that entails. Details -- he wanted details of how, what, where, when, how often -- how do we do it? How do we move forth in this lifestyle that has fuzzy borders? How can we define even a pathway in something that is mutable and the possibility for abandonment lies almost like a certainty for any future together?

And yet words like freedom and desire flowed effortlessly throughout our conversations. It feels like we're moving from a place where we were simply surviving to a place where the opportunity for growth exists. Our bodies are still recoiling from hours and hours of sustained pain and grief. Our minds are still reeling from abstract notions that are meaningless without the human dose of real, irrational, raw emotion.

I thought on a number of occasions that I was going to lose my H forever. That he was going to slip away into a void of emptiness. The howling began in the back of my mind and I thought he was declaring us Over. I was prepared to get fixed. I was prepared to do everything I needed to find a solution. I was prepared to fall on my knees and let someone tell me that I'm fucked up and these are the ways to embrace the righteous life. And then the Two Voices of true, rational and generous love both told me today to believe in myself, and be true to who I am. Because without that, life for me will have no meaning. And that is as good as dead.

So this is my life, today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. The talking is... painful, difficult, honest, real. I don't think we've talked like this in years. It's been a series of contractual exchanges, small talk, bantering, bickering and moody fighting. This is something else entirely. This is a renewal of committment. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

things are changing

2007-10-22T08:04:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was filled with suffering for both my husband and myself. I'm not prepared to get into the details of it all quite yet, but I'll say that everything is tossed in the air. We both cried all night long. He has removed his wedding ring. He has told me to do the same. I can't bear to. I told him that I want an open marriage; what that means, I have no fucking clue. I told him briefly about YoungMan. He's hurting, scared, not angry. He tells me he could never be angry because of course he understands. But his hurt is my hurt. He said to me "you're free." Never did I think those words could mean so much and hurt so much at the same time. He wants to understand what arrangements we'd have. I tell him I don't know. Arrangements. Where do we go from here? I don't know.

For now, here is an article by a woman whom, if I didn't know any better, was actually me telling the tale of my fantasy marriage:Portrait of an Open Marriage.

Major Developments

2007-10-18T20:33:00.000-04:00

So much has happened, over the course of three weeks. A few of my readers have asked how I get the time to spend away from my husband for all of these activities. The answer is, my H is out of the country. I've known about this trip for some time now, and I suppose a small part of me rationally thought out this affair with YoungMan. At least, I know that I planned ONE evening of drinks -- our first. I knew that I would have a newfound freedom when my H was gone, and I clearly took advantage of it. Everything else that has followed our first evening together has been a complete surprise for me, all very rash, very spontaneous, breathtakingly so.

Three weeks. Three weeks of seeing only YoungMan almost every other day. I've tried to stay away from him, but I just can't. The longest we've lasted apart from each other was three days and that scares me to high hell. I'm so afraid of what might happen after my husband returns. I'm afraid of making stupid decisions. I'm afraid of falling for this man I barely know. We've only just met, and I know that real feelings are developing between us. I know that in the past I've had a tendency to fall hard and fast for the men in my life; when you're single and dating, that's generally okay. It leads to something. But here, in my situation, where can it possibly lead us?

When my husband and I first began our relationship and he realized that I was dating many men at the time, he told me straight up that he can't handle that type of situation emotionally. Later, he teased me for attempting to build up a man-harem. Perhaps it's true. I was unapologetic about it. But I did stop, for him. I ended all those relationships, in a snap. And I became monogamous. Just like that. I thought that my respect for H and our budding relationship was enough to combat the strength of my promiscuity, but I see now that it isn't anymore.

I've spoken with YoungMan on a few occasions about what lies in our future together. Those times have always been difficult, inarticulate, and tremendously heavy. When we don't think or talk about that subject, our time together is amazing. We are incredibly comfortable together, we have lots of fun, and the sex is still mind-blowing. Earth-shattering. Our reactions to the world, and our uncanny coincidences continue to astound us. We may not share similar histories, but it seems our presence of mind is in complete harmony with one another. Which makes it all that much more difficult. The only direction our interactions can take is toward even more intimacy. Those ~other~ times I've cheated with other men have been nothing but recreational sex. YoungMan and I seem to be sharing something so much more... a serious love affair. I keep telling myself it's just lust, it's just really good sex. But it's getting harder to deny the other things that are flourishing between us.

Today, I gave YoungMan the key to all of my locked secrets. I gave him the link to this blog. That's a huge step for me, and I offered it to him as a gift of intimacy. I have no clue what he will do with it, but as all good gifts are given, it holds no expectation of return. Knowing that he may be reading this just might change things. I don't know. I'm going to try to not let it affect my writing, my reflections, but I just don't know. All I know is that I want him to know me -- All of Me, and make an educated choice about what to do with us. Maybe this is my way of pushing him away, or maybe I'm just tired of living behind a sheer curtain with the people I care about.

I just don't know.

How the HELL are we so compatible as sex buddies?

2007-10-08T19:27:00.000-04:00

Yet another session with YoungMan. Sex together is insanely amazing. Our bodies fit together like forever-changing puzzle pieces. We're both on the thinner side of light, for our respective heights, and we both have crazy long limbs. So when we caress, when we collide, when we stretch the bodies, we become a tangled mess of arm-leg-insert-crook-of-knee-elbow and then a kiss. I'm mezmerized by his lips and tongue. What's surprising is how focused I am on his lips when the most striking thing about his face must be his eyes. Deep blue, expressive and quiet, and just plain sexy. When we're facing each other, when he can see me and watch me while we're having sex, he gives me the most piercing, sustained fuck-stare I've ever experienced. It's a hard type of stare that chills me deep down and it makes me want to be hurt by him. I feel as though I could be used by him and thoroughly abused, and that very sentiment makes me cum almost immediately.

YoungMan discovered my hard-core proclivities (think choking, force, bondage) with zero discussion on my part. He's so incredibly in touch with my bodily responses that he homed in on all the crazy things that get me going -- things that I fantasize about, but would never ask someone to do. He's extremely observant, and I'm all the luckier for that. He thoroughly enjoys pleasing me, and says that he just loves watching me as I exist in varying states of pleasure. And his stamina is overwhelming. He says he's never met a girl who wants to and can fuck for as long as he can. I could say the same for all of my previous partners. My husband and I also have long bouts of sex, and usually will take at least an hour, if not two to enjoy ourselves. But with YoungMan, we've probably averaged about 3-4 hours each time. With most of my other partners, I've always felt guilty for wanting to go at it longer and continue to please myself, even after they've finished.

There seems to be some kind of magical chemistry that happens between us. We have so many little things in common, (though yes, there are quite a few things that differ remarkably), things that are personal choices, things that have nothing to do with anything important at all, yet are all around. Insignificant coincidences that occur way too frequently not to be noticed. And sexually, we're dynamite. As experienced as I am, with as many previous partners that I've had, I find it incredible that I'm experiencing brand-new sensations with YoungMan. And I'm completely taken aback at his forward behavior in bed. He's just as forceful as I want and like, following the ebb and flow of my desires. We joke about him being a devil in disguise because of how deeply he knows what I want, and I never have to say a thing. Perhaps I do "say" enough for him to know, but it's all in the language of our bodies. As though we read each other so naturally and thoroughly that spoken words are wholly unnecessary.

And orgasms... wow. With most other men, I'm able to cum once, following a slow and steady build-up of desire. Usually, that one time is a hummer; it's built-up for so long that when it happens, I feel like I've exploded. And generally it happens aided by my hand, as the extra friction on my clit (in just the right way) is a booster. I've only considered the rolling orgasm a bonus -- that is, after the one major quake, I might get a couple of aftershocks that roll on through me. And sometimes, those reverberations are actually uncomfortable because my body is at a heightened state of intensity already. But with YoungMan, it's like I get chain-linked mini-orgasms from the first time he enters me, all the way through to the end. The one time that I had a crash-worthy orgasm with him was so overwhelming that I actually squirted ejaculate all over his stomach. It was EVERYWHERE. Normally, I'd have been embarrassed, but with YoungMan, it's as though all of my inhibitions are turned off. In fact, when I ejaculated that time, I got so turned on by being amazingly wet that the sex got even more wild after it happened. Sex with this guy is so different from other men I've been with. And this scares me. I feel like I'm developing a serious physical, chemical addiction. Not the obsessive kind that deals with emotions, fear, worry and relationship issues. But the compulsive kind that is raw, unpredictable and uncontrollable. The desire is so tremendous that I am always searching for ways to get that next fix.

Now, for a list. Newly discovered, incredibly sexy things that YoungMan does to me:
1. the fuck-stare.
2. he loves my ass. lots of ass handling, squeezing, pinching, slapping, biting, spreading. whoo! a doozy.
3. the tight, pointy tongue and everything it does. licking his lips, licking my lips, licking the air, teasing me, and most recently, going down on me.
4. he takes me. after i've exhausted my capacity for orgasms, his build-up for orgasm comes from handling my body like a piece of meat. he moves me, makes my body fuck him. both hands on my waist, my thighs, my ankles, my stomach, my shoulders, my wrists. whatever it takes. he makes me fuck him.
5. this morning, I came three times within 8 minutes. then he came all over my stomach. that was the quickest quickie we've ever had, and I didn't even think it was possible.
6. the taste of his cum. the most delicate flavor i've ever had. he pulled out of my cunt, and went straight in my mouth, cock in hand. never, EVER have I thought that would be sexy for me. but hey, with him, it's amazing.

Oh, and I did a strip tease for the first time in my life. And it didn't feel awkward at all. In fact, I got REALLY turned on by it. By the time we got the actual sex, I was literally dripping all over him. It's all him. I know it. It's all because of YoungMan.

now I can remember his face...

2007-10-07T16:30:00.000-04:00

After my first hookup with YoungMan last weekend (a drunken start to that evening of 7-hour marathon sex), I was surprised and quite bothered that I couldn't recall an image of his face. Of course I would be able to recognize him, and of course I knew general attributes, but there were no specific frames of reference that I could muster up from the memory banks. It continued to bother me for a few days because I didn't want to feel as though he was just another screw -- a blank face on a body that I used for sexual gratification. Our second time together was yet another marathon sex session. Incredibly insane, in the middle of the week, we met and ended up somehow at a Holiday Inn. Even more furious sexing. Still, we were in the dark throughout that night, and so I was unable to study his face. I realize now that I tend to do this with my lovers. I'm not sure if most people do or not, but I find myself attempting to learn the topography of the face, memorizing each delicate feature and how it comes together as a whole, beautiful image. I soak it in for as long as I can, and I watch and observe the physical movements, the quirks, the tiny motions of the body, in everyday (non-sexual) action. What makes this person exist in physical form? How does he move through the air, interact with and express to the external world all that he is?

This past weekend, I had the opportunity to do exactly that with YoungMan. In a tidal crash of impatience and utter impulse, we rashly decided to take a road trip together to go to the beach for a weekend away. So that's what we did. And what turned out was an amazingly intense 3 days of lots and lots of sex. Incredibly, we did find time to do "regular people" activities on Saturday, and honestly the only reason for that was because of how sore we both had become from that morning's activities (and from the evening before). I learned a lot about YoungMan this weekend, including the topography of his very handsome face. Not only did I learn about him, but I learned a lot about myself, my desires, and some of the things I have sacrificed for my H.

My husband has never asked me to sacrifice any of these things, but over the course of the years, I think most loving couples do allow certain aspects of the life they knew before the coupling to slip by the wayside, and they do it voluntarily. I don't think there's anything wrong with that at all, and in fact when it comes from a generous and giving space from one to another, I think it goes toward building a strong and healthy relationship.

The time I spent with YoungMan this weekend (while not having sex like crazy) gave me the chance to experience something I haven't felt in a very long time. My husband and I initially became attracted to one another not over common interests and activities, but over a more abstract sharing of intellect, passion, and analytic prowess. Our conversations and discussions spurred agreements and disagreements alike, but they also revealed a brightly lit path of all-around compatibility that eventually led to a definitive future together. The interests and activities that we do presently share together have arisen outside of the framework of our initial attractions. However, there are parts of me that have been neglected over the years since H and I have been together, and the rediscovery of these simple activities has me somewhat misty-eyed and feeling a bit nostalgic. This whole cycle recurrs occasionally and I wear the saddness as a chunky, woolly sweater that H is always observant of. These are the moments he breathes questions in his sleep like, "what is it that gets you so sad sometimes?". I could never tangibly account for these episodes, so there would be no further discussion on the subject. But perhaps now I have a better clue.

Just last week, I was thinking about something that occasionally happened in my youth upon meeting someone new. After the strangeness of introductory interactions dissipates, with certain individuals, a period of uncanny coincidences would occur. Thoughts would flow like a secret language between us, where even if spoken every 5 words, we'd still know the entire sentence. As though two minds were merging, we'd see the same things, hear the same things, say the same things. Inside jokes would happen frequently, and life was always grand when this friend was around. It would be as though the universe was throwing signs everywhere that whatever is unfolding is a good path to take. In my naive mind, the thought would strike me that perhaps... could this person be a "soul mate"? I've since shaken off the urge to believe in such things as "soul mates", as I've heartily embraced the idea that no two people could possibly be perfect for one another, and if they start as such, it is impossible to sustain, given the real and continuously changing life they must share. However, I do believe that uncanny coincidences can reveal an intimate connection between individuals.

When I discovered that YoungMan and I enjoyed many of the same activities, and found simple pleasures in common, I felt that neglected part inside me open up, flowering forth and seeing the light once more. Here is a person who fulfills something that my husband can not. In fact, it is most likely impossible for H to fill these gaps because they are not something he can even control or modify. This fact about my new connection with YoungMan takes nothing away from the life I have with H. Despite these discoveries about compatibility with YoungMan, my compatibility with H is untouched. My relationship with my husband remains the same. It has been proven to me once again, that what I have with H stands alone.

A new issue that could be arising is similar to what I assume happened with BeautyEyes. YoungMan and I are cruising along the path toward some sort of real Relationship. If I wasn't married, he would become my boyfriend, easily. But I am, and so the breaks are on, even before it starts. (So it seems.) Where others have protected their hearts and submitted to being just a fling, or an occasional affair partner, YoungMan seems to be putting his emotions forward. Where BeautyEyes drew his line and made his disappearance, I have the feeling that YoungMan will keep pushing forth. This situation does give me a sense of guilt/responsibility because my limits are imposed on YoungMan and he has to deal with them. However, he's an adult, he's making the decision to get involved with me, and what emotional repercussions may arise are his to own. Though I know this, I can not help but feel bad whenever the thought occurs to me that I'm keeping him from a full-on "real" relationship [with me]. He wants to spend more time with me, as in not always having sex together. Twice now he's mentioned the idea that all we do is have sex together. I think our situation will begin to bother him sooner than I expect. For all I know, it may begin to bother me rather quickly. I fear getting to know him better, on a level other than sexual. I don't want to complicate things, and yet I also know that the extremely intense connection we have is only going to get stronger as time goes on.

As for me, I feel myself fantasizing about that poly lifestyle all over again. I keep imagining a life where it's acceptable to have more than one lover. And that's including Lover, with a capital L, meaning it could possibly be okay to fall in love all over again with other people. But until I bring this up with my husband, I know it can never come to fruition. How can I possibly do that to him? I know he doesn't want that life. I know he's not at all turned on by the prospect of having a "hotwife". And so it goes, on and on. Where are my actions going to lead me? I have absolutely no clue.

analyzing, questions, memories, today

2007-10-04T14:59:00.000-04:00

When I was in college, I had no health insurance, so my only option for birth control (in the pill format) was to go through Planned Parenthood. My first exam was given by a very very kind woman doctor who, while going over my medical history with me commented on my answer for the "number of sexual partners in the last three months" question. During that time period, I was "between boyfriends", and had slept with 4 different men. My doctor's comment was "Oh, so you're shopping around?" I was totally embarrassed by that, which she could see, and immediately followed up with "really, it's okay. It's normal to go through a few partners in beween relationships, until you find someone you like." And then she smiled. I was somewhat comforted by her gesture, but in retrospect, I realize that my initial embarrassment speaks volumes as to the foundation that was laid for the rest of my ongoing sex life.

Yes, I am still embarrassed for being promiscuous. Everyday I'm made to feel in the "real world" that sexual and relationship promiscuity is either morally corrupt, emotionally dangerous, disrespectful, disempowering or a whole host of derrogatory descriptors. And yet, I'm consumed by this will to defy that massive force of negativity. My only regret is that I am unable to share this rebellion against the world with my husband. It's like having a toy that can't be played with together because for some illogical reason it will come alive and bite him and hurt him badly if he goes near it. The question becomes "Is it fair then to continue playing with this toy, if he can't partake in the fun?" The kindest option I can think of is to follow the simple guidelines of if you have to play, then "don't flaunt it", "do it on your own time", and "don't let it affect him negatively", all the while knowing: should it ever arise, I must suffer the consequences with humility and compassion.

As for that doctor's comment, I was reminded of it today because I'm still trying to figure out what it is that I'm doing with these lifestyle choices I'm making. It seems that so many of my decisions are based purely on lust, instinct and presence-of-mind-desire. And yet I can't help but wonder if there is some other, deeper, psychological motivation behind all of this. One of my girlfriends has expressed to me on two occasions now that she and my other close girlfriend had previously discussed and were "worried" about me during my Happily Single [and Extremely Promiscuous] Days. As if there might be a deeper issue at hand that would explain why I was having so much sex with such little committment. They pondered, "is she just having fun or could it be that her self-esteem and self-worth is dependant upon the attentions of these men?" Of course, I've questioned this very thought myself, and I keep coming up with the answer that something is inherently wrong with the whole line of questioning.

Has this growing list of men been a futile attempt at gaining self-worth? (Futile because apparently it doesn't work, since I have to keep going, with more and more men.) Am I simply reacting on a base level of human sexual desire, working from a no-holds-barred attitude? (ie. just having some fun) OR. The newest option: am I in the midst of shopping around? I feel quite deeply, from a realm of my heart that exists beyond time, space and rational thinking, that my husband is indeed the only man who is as compatible, as fitting, as complementary with me as is possible in this life. Our union holds something that I feel is truly remarkable, and I have utmost faith that our love will withstand whatever life throws at us. So I can't possibly be shopping around for another H. If it is the case that I am looking for something ~else~, then what could that be?

All of the men with whom I've had Adulterous Affairs were chosen with certain criteria in mind. Aside from sexual attraction (a given), they had to be on some level, "unattainable". Somehow, it had to be impractical to be with the person. This was in fact a deliberate act, in part to protect my marriage, and in part to give me an easy out. There could be no way that I would develop an emotional bond with an individual if the friendship had nothing but obstacles in the way. To an extent, I avoid developing emotional bonds with most of the men in my life, even if they are close friends with both H and myself. Perhaps it is for fear that something might occur within that emotional connection that could possibly threaten the strength of my bond with H. So I don't test it.

But sex... is a totally different story. Sex -- I can break down into attributes, personality, technique, skill, and generosity. I can mechanize it and tear it apart. I can easily admit that various aspects of each of the men I've been with get stacked up against my husband, and everytime my husband wins out, when you take the whole package to scale. Perhaps it is that bond that I cherish so much that keeps the magic between us, and remains untouched by even the most gifted of the lot. The men I've been with have been seasoned lovers, both physically and emotionally. They all have given me the distance I need, and the respect they feel I deserve. Each one of them has had realistic expectations about my marriage, and has never come close to overstepping that boundary. In a way, they've been perfect. So it seems to me that if it was a role-filler I was searching for, (in the role of long-term sideline-lover) then I've easily found a few. Yet I keep looking. So it must not be that.

Which brings me to my latest situation. What's flourishing with YoungMan is something totally different than all the others. What makes it different, I'm not quite sure of yet. But there's a twinge of immediacy that sets a different tone here. He has no wife, no kids. He goes out drinking when he wants, with whom he wants. He has total freedom over his life. He lives at home with his parents. He has no fear, and nothing to lose. He really is Youth-Incarnate, in so many ways. YoungMan lives within a half-hour of our home. We work together, so I see him everyday. The ease is astounding. When we have sex, it's joyous, acrobatic, intimate, passionately devouring, compelling, impulsive, lovely, and physically exhausting. When he looks at me, I feel something stirring inside that is frank, clear and bright. It's not just the "newness" of touch from a person other than the familiar. I don't know what it is, but I am enamoured.

7 hours... fuck.

2007-09-30T23:55:00.000-04:00

Am I a sexual addict? I suppose that depends on who's the judge of that question. Between my husband and myself, we both agree that masturbation, frequent sex, fantasy play, sexual experimentation (bdsm, etc.), and attending swinger's orgies are all well within the realm of healthy sexual behavior. No harm caused. However, there are individuals out there who feel that any sexual behavior that strays from the kind between a man and a woman who love each other and are married to one another is problematic. It just so happens that the creators of the idea that there is such a condition as sexual addiction falls heavily to the side of those who find these things as atypical, abnormal, and morally troublesome.

Am I an addict for involving myself in a marathon sex act last night? Seven fucking hours, with a quick nap in between. Fucking for seven hours! At a tender age of 23, he's the youngest man I've been with in a long time, and wow does it show. All of the men I've had affairs with, since being married, have been at a minimum of 33 years, ranging upwards to about 40+. (It should come as no surprise that he was yet another coworker who I've now seduced. That brings the count up to 4 fellow workers. This really should stop, as I'm relatively concerned about my reputation. However, I'm probably a bit too trusting that these men will stay silent on the issue.) This one actually feels like a boy-toy. Not sure how I feel about that. He seems to be fine and dandy about it -- and why not? He now has had the opportunity to be involved in an affair with an older, married, exotic, hot chick, whom it seems everyone at work drools over. As for me, I'm not really sure how I feel about having a boy-toy. Not so much that I'm older than he, but I think I'm growing a conscience about using these people as sexual objects. But herein lies the irony: when a subject readily chooses to partake in an objectification of his/her being, then can it still be considered objectification? Much like the master-slave predicament, the power is with the slave, who chooses to relinquish that power for the satisfaction of the master. And if both master and slave are satisfied with the established relationship, then is it not a shared burden on the two? Are they not both responsible for the interbeingness at hand? A master can not exist without her slave, for the very nature of her role. She is wholly dependent upon this other being for her own being. Isn't that truly what treating others as subjects is about?

Whatever the case is, I now have the issue of seeing this man at work. On the one hand, I am pretty delighted with the situation because I get to infuse a bit of excitement to my job where it was beginning to lack. On the other hand, there is so much left to Uncertainty. I barely know the kid, and have no clue as to what his temperament is. Will he cause me trouble? Will he respect my views? Will he understand my marriage issues? Will he even care about this crap? My guess, from what little I do know about him, is that he'll be pretty good at playing it cool, keeping this little secret between us, and continue making me wet my panties while at work. I've found there are generally two distinct personalities that I'm attracted to: one being the cocky, arrogant, fuck-the-world kind of guy, and the other being the quiet, mysterious, introverted and silently rebellious type. (Is that the male version of the ma dona/whore complex?) Is it coincidental that my husband resembles a bit of both, or am I just damned lucky? That's all beside the point. This young man... what shall I call him... he's got an incredibly hot body, smooth features, strong musculature, is tall and thin, and has an enormous cock. Fat, long, straight and hard. Perhaps a tad too large for my petite frame. He reminds me of a boy I had a college affair with long, long ago. I shall call him YoungMan. That will work. YoungMan happens to fall into the category of quiet, mysterious and introverted. So far, I've been able to read my interests well enough to gauge their social intelligence pretty accurately, and from what I've witnessed, YoungMan will do just fine with our little situation. I suppose I'll soon see.

Mmmm.... strap on lady lovin'

2007-09-19T19:29:00.000-04:00

Well, this is a real quickie... I was just watching some pretty decent strap-on porn and the funniest thought came across my mind (after I orgasmed already). The video was of one girl wearing a strap-on and basically fucking the other girl, either with her tongue, her fingers or the dildo -- it was very one-sided, almost dominatrix-like, but without the submissive role play. I generally don't get off on the idea of only one person doing all the "doing" because it doesn't seem as real to me. But at least with this particular girl, she knew how to use the cock. I've seen quite a few videos where the girl just doesn't know how to move her body with an attachment like that, and the akwardness of it all just ruins the fantasy.

Anyway, the funny thought was this: 100% lesbian sex to me is like being a vegetarian after having lived a carniverous life -- for whatever reasons you chose to stay away from the meat, you still remember what it was like, and you still crave the flavor. So sometimes you might try some imitation meat, just to savour the taste of it. But really, it's just not the same. And that's probably how it would go down with the lesbian lifestyle for me too. I just love cock -- and the touch of the man that's attached -- waaaay too much to let it go completely.

At the same time, I don't think I go for enough lady-lovin' for lots of varying reasons. Honestly, I think it would be more difficult for me to treat a woman as a sexual object, as opposed to how very easy it is for me to do that with men. I'm sure there are plenty of women out there who just want to fuck, with no strings whatsoever, but perhaps I'm too easily suckered into the stereotype that tells a different story. Not to mention, it's SO MUCH harder to even get into a sex-casual conversation with a woman, as opposed to the men I interact with all day long. And to top it off, I know that deep down, I am afraid of branding myself as Lesbian. Issues. Damn I gots issues.

Strange Allure

2007-09-19T16:41:00.000-04:00

I have a weakness... it's the fact that Time often plays tricks on me, pulling me in, leading me on, lulling me into a quiet repose, until I am fooled by my own tenderness. I believe truly deeply that something calm has finally enveloped me, and I should be able to breathe in unadultered air. I exist in a natural bubble of honest innocence, and it's then, in that moment of absolute vulnerability, when suddenly everything goes awry and Swoosh! I'm picked up again by the storm that blew in, from the distant, churning waters of the sea. I remember things I am supposed to forget. I feel things I am supposed to supress. I act in ways from which I am supposed abstain.

The difficulty lies in the awareness of it all. I sense when the winds approach; I feel the hairs raise along my arms; I can smell the iron, mold and salt in the air as it hangs in dead stillness all around me. The charge that flows along my skin and causes a surge in my pulse is unlike any other. It signals a threshold between action and non-action that threatens to change the very course of my life -- all dependent upon what I choose to do. What I choose to say, what jokes I choose to make, how I send a look across the room, or knowingly drop my view to the floor. It's here that I balance... and can fall to either direction.

During periods of calm, I "behave", don't break the rules, accept responsibility, manage the turbulence of life, and through it all, still remain true to myself and to my loved ones. I feel civilized, proper, and quiet. I don't tell lies, but I also choose not to speak when faced with a challenging situation. When given the choice to reveal a hidden aspect of me, or remain silent, I choose the latter, for the safety of it all. I am socially conservative.

It's when I'm in the midst of an explosive episode that I yearn to be in diametric opposition to where I stand in safety. Yes, I want to be loyal to my husband, and I still feel all the desire for responsibility and civility, but the choice is that much more difficult. I don't know the reasons behind my swings in personality; they just exist. I have a feeling that my entire life will constantly be challenged by these very aspects of who I am. If I can stay clear and present with the change as it is occurring, then perhaps at least I can live a full life of awareness, and at most, with compassion.

Currently, I can sense a storm approaching. The tides are acting out, unruly, and unpredictable. The sea is coming for me, and from the way I've been thinking all day, I'm not so sure I can continue gazing at the floor anymore.

quickly now...

2007-09-06T19:33:00.000-04:00

Hello all,

I'd like to thank every one of you who has commented here, emailed me and those of you who have been reading my blog. I do very much appreciate your support, readership and recognition.

Yes, I've been on quite the hiatus from this blog -- in many ways this is good. H and I have been in a very good place and life's activities have kept me rather busy. I'm working on a few things, and struggling with a few others, and when I get a chance, I will work through them in written form.

I'd like to extend an extra thanks to tom paine for reminding me of that pitfall of complacency, of which I skirt around often, and sometimes get lost in. That is, the complacency that what I do and the things I decide are settled, because well, that's how the lot goes. But really, nothing is ever settled, and there will always be a struggle over ethical, moral and integrity-based issues. That is in fact my lot, and I should never forget that.

Currently, I'm attempting to maintain these boundaries that are generally observed as a given by the general public. I'm faring rather well at it, and I think I've realized one thing, at least: as the saying goes, (something along the lines of) "men will cheat if given the opportunity", and how it pertains to me -- it has become apparent to me that the results of my sexual appetite for Others has had little impact on the real substance of my marriage. Because of that, I will cheat if given the opportunity; if I am kept busy on the other hand, I may still have a wandering eye but it becomes impractical to pursue anything. I don't have much of a problem with that. However, despite my nonchalance about this emotionally-distant situation with extra lovers, I am dismayed at the deception behind it all. I feel "morally upright" during times of abstinence, and I feel "somewhat bothered" at most, when I'm feasting on these carnal desires. It makes it easier to follow the rules. And I do have the dream that someday my husband and I will be comfortable enough to even approach the subject once more. Until I am assured that our combined insecurities are minimized enough, I will not breach the topic with him. I don't believe I'll ever quit cold-turkey, but I have come to the conclusion that yes, these desires can be accepted and controlled, and perhaps the scales do slightly tip in favor of previously agreed-upon social contracts. Maybe one day I'll propose an amendment, but only when I know the time is right. Until then, my anonymous affairs in this adulterer's life may continue indefinitely, as sporadic as they may be...

Adultery for me...

2007-08-09T22:48:00.000-04:00

is like having a drink, taking some drugs or engaging in a risky adrenaline-pumping sport. It's recreational. It's fun. The flirting is fun. The newness of it all is exhilarating. The sexual attraction is a great reminder that the girl I used to be is still the same as the woman I am now. Like most exciting recreational activities, there's an immediate *boost* that uplifts your spirits and just makes you feel good. Yes, that may very well be the adrenaline talking, but it exists in sports, in exercise, in anything that deals with the physical form. And, as with any of the aforementioned activities, extra-marital sex can toe the line of obsession and addiction. If pushed to the limit, all of that boosted energy can become a whirlwind of chaos, sap your spirit of any reserves you might have had and toss you into a pit of exhaustion. Widely known as The Crash, (aka the hangover) so too does adultery have its minor (and major) pitfalls.

The most dangerous pitfall of all is the emotional bond. In a comment on my previous post, Thomas Paine mentioned the danger of getting caught. I mulled on this for a while, and have decided that getting caught by my husband is not the immediate danger where I find my thrill. Simply because I seriously don't want or need him to ever find out, and I don't really think he wants to know either. I know that he has his suspicions, and it comes out in his speech. At the same time, we've talked about our limits briefly, and I know that he simply doesn't want to know. I think so long as my behavior changes only on normal, regular terms, that is -- our daily relationship maintains its stability -- and our emotional state of affairs is in good standing, he really has no need to question my commitment to our marriage. I also feel the same way, which is why the danger that provokes a prolonged adrenaline rush is that which comes with the possibility of falling in love with someone other than my H.

Which brings me to BeautyEyes. He has been the only man I have ever come close to having these sorts of feelings for. I think because of our history together, there was an immediate bond aside from the sexual attraction. That intimacy that we experienced exists in a realm of its own -- the friendship intimacy that's laced with sexual attraction that seems to cross lines, however arbitrary they may be, and in doing so creates this fuzzy space that's amorphic, mutable and at times, downright scary.

After having processed this odd connection I have with BeautyEyes, and having slept with another co-worker, I couldn't help but feel somewhat... dirty. And it's not a dirty feeling like "oh my, I've slept with too many men, so I'm a slut" kind of dirty, but it's more of a muddled feeling as though I didn't know who I was anymore. The kind of dirty that sticks to your skin and doesn't wash off in the shower. That feeling when you first wake up with morning stickiness clinging in the air, oppressive humidity that consumes all the space, pushing out any room for circulation of a fresh breath. That kind of dirty.

So my solution lately has been to avoid the situation entirely. That means avoiding all people aside from my H. It's been working temporarily, but I know that it's not a permanent solution. I'm just not callous enough to fuck and run. I know I have to talk to the last guy I slept with and process what happened between us. Why did I say it would surely happen again? Why didn't I just leave? This man, my friend, an ex-coworker, was a person I spent a lot of time with. We were close. We had a real relationship at work. That night that we hung out, I said to him in jest "it's not like I'm going to sleep with you or anything" (perhaps my fatal mistake). And after we had sex later on that evening, he opened up to me even more than before. That scared me. He reminded me of me. I didn't want him to get too close. Now I realize he was my rebound from BeautyEyes. I just wanted to fuck. I wanted to be reassured that I could participate in this recreational activity, and just have fun, with seriously NSA (no strings attached). And when he hit me with that whammy of emotion, caused in the wake of really great sex with someone you've known and been in close proximity for almost a year who you've barely even touched -- well, it was too much for me. And so my Anonyma self crawled back into her hole in order that my everyday person could scrub down her dirty little emotional welfare to at least a resuscitated state.

And here is where I am today. Freshly showered. I have a few new perspectives, and maybe they'll sneak out here soon enough. All in all, I feel good.

Food for thought: when you have a sex dream with someone totally unexpected, it often has nothing to do with sexual attraction, though sometimes it might. Usually however, it reveals a newly formed intimacy with that particular person. Twice now I've had this sort of sex dream with my immediate supervisor (two different men). In both instances I knew exactly what my subconscious was getting at. The first time, my dream was relatively innocent. We only kissed, but there was an energy there that struck me enough to remember it during my waking hours. And sure enough, my boss and I had developed a friendly rapport just about the same time. This time, today I had a dream about my new boss -- The Brit. The problem is, I do find him rather sexy, and I was attracted to him from day one. Now I have a sex dream about him and it's clear that we're getting closer at work. To boot, it was a damned good sex dream where he basically forced his face onto the crotch of my jeans, surprising me with the most incredible through-the-pants face fuck I've ever experienced in a dream. The thing that's quite okay with this unrequited sexual attraction is that I know for a fact that he's nowhere near dangerous for me. He's devoted to his wife and kids, lives out of state and has zero opportunity to get me into any kinds of trouble. Plus, I respect him, on multiple fronts which means I would never endanger that situation for him. I think I've got a check on this one.

disappointment

2007-07-17T19:32:00.000-04:00

yesterday I was distant from my husband. he's been home for only a week after having been gone for two months, and I become emotionally distant. what is up with that? he treats me like a queen, and I go and have fling after fling, cocky and arrogant, pursuing my fleeting desires, unapologetic and unremorseful. how is it that I can go on committing these indiscretions that most people consider to be heinous acts of vile treacherous behavior? even now, as I feel somewhat sad about my emotional distancing, I know that if given the opportunity, I would probably fuck around again. I really hate that I'm doing it behind his back, and I SOO wish that he could give me this one thing that I can not possibly ever ask of him.

I know it is mistaken for one spouse to expect his/her partner to change fundamental personality traits; it might even be wrong to hope that such things could change. but tell me, is it wrong to hope that you could change fundamental parts of who you are, in order to fit inside a successful marriage? is it even possible? because as I'm looking at who I am in this partnership, and where I'm standing, the only thing I see is a person who wants to be someone she is not, in order to maintain a steady marriage. I want to be self-sacrificing, but in reality I'm a selfish liar. I want to be solitarily devoted to only one man, but instead, my attractions and my interests are dividing steadily. I want to maintain a stable and comfortable relationship, but my actions are divisively acting against that.

is it just that I am so insecure in my core personality that I feed off of the shallow and brief attention that comes with sexual attraction? am I hooked? is this an illness? is this my obsession? or am I really just being true to myself, true to my desiring self, and therefore genuine in these deeds?

I am not regretful of any physical act or emotional connection that has been made. however, after all this time, I don't like the deception. I don't like hiding entire chunks of myself from him. I don't like being someone else inside my head, while being the me that he loves and adores outwardly. I feel fractured, and it's becoming more difficult to string the pieces together. my options from here are lacking in desirability. 1) I go back to being "faithful", and stop everything else cold-turkey. That means I break all connections that have been made with previous lovers and live in a conventionally-styled marriage that I secretly wish to dismantle philosophically and politically. 2) I continue on this adulterous path and keep living a double life, filled with passionate adventure and dark, cold loneliness. I continue to allow my husband sense that something is wrong, but pacify him with words. I keep letting him love only the shell of me. 3) I try to bring these issues to the open, knowing that change can break us. Knowing that I risk everything we've built for the mere possibility of getting what I truly want, an open marriage.

I don't have the strength to change us. I don't have the strength to stop. I am paralyzed by fear. I know why I am emotionally distant, and he is struggling to understand it, to understand me. Today I disappointed a friend, by falling through on plans that were made. Because of that, I realized something: I became disappointed in myself because I took to heart how that friend felt, and I judged myself harshly because of it. That's how I knew how important that friend was in my life. The thing about my husband is of all the people in my life, I don't want to disappoint him the most, ever -- that is why I take every single criticism to heart, and that is why I take every critical word as a slight against my person. I judge myself through what I deem are his eyes, without being aware of it, and despite his actual perceptions. In this desperate and fantastic pursuit for ultimate perfection, I have built castles around my weaknesses, around my every pit and pockmark to create a person who might deserve a bit of his undying and unconditional love. But the gaps are growing wider, and the holes are getting deeper. My imperfection is seeping through the cracks in the mortar and my "real", possibly - probably - unlovable self will eventually wear through.

where am I supposed to go from here?

my personal fireworks

2007-07-05T21:01:00.000-04:00

I fell asleep thinking about him last night. Drifting thoughts strolling through my heavy mind -- his fingers long and soft, gentle nose stroking my cheek, his unusually sensitive body and its expression of joy in my arms. He was breathing short, tense, pulses of air and moaning quietly as I kissed his stomach. Slender stomach, taut with anticipation, rippling with every chill that my tongue introduced. I loved how he smelled. Sweet, musky, ripe, dark, curly hairs -- as black as my own. I fell asleep to these memories, swaying me gently in the cool breezes of my afterthought.

And when I awoke, there he was again, fresh in my mind. I felt him there, laying in bed with me, my breasts swollen and aching to be touched. How his mouth, in its entirety, moved along my body, clever tongue, curious lips, fitting my flesh like three-dimensional puzzle pieces cut from the same core. Now is when I touch myself -- a morning reminder of what transpired between us. Now is when I re-embody the memory and celebrate once more the incredible beauty that I witnessed and was a participant in creating. I resume the thought that rocked me into slumber. His cock is erect and hard, so engorged that I can lick just the veins. My tongue probes all around his flesh, and I can make out the topography of his abdominal base. He's tasty. Seeing his pleasure drawn all over his face is tasty. I take him into my mouth and he lets out a gasp, and the look on his face tells me he is experiencing a feeling in a category of its own.

Mind wanders to his fingers and how he fucked me with his incredibly agile digits. First he teased me, taking me all along the edges of my desire. He worked me up to want him so purely, swelling in pleasure. He decided when to enter me, when to brush, when to stroke, when to push, when to pull. I was a puppet in his hands, and he -- a master artist. When he fucked me like this, I felt all of his giving. As if in his hands he offered a single gift, and that gift was ecstasy.

Non-chronological image takes me backward in time, irrational leaps and jumps that take me to the places where I found pleasure. I had my lips wrapped around his cock. My ass was in the air. I was dreaming of getting fucked while sucking on his lovely member. I wanted him to see my ass waving around in the air, yearning to be fucked, back arched, lips puffy and tight. Suddenly my fantasy was interrupted as he sat up quickly, and mounted me in a maneuver that can only be described in wrestling terms. God I wanted him so badly. How deeply I ached to feel his cock inside me, that ache is impregnated into the very cells of my flesh. Still, the chills eek across my spine when I think of how his body went from supine to erect in a matter of seconds, and cock in my cunt. Just. Like. That.

And just like that, I was about to cum. Climbing, writhing sensation burning through my fingers, past my pussy lips and tightening, tightening. My god, I'm so close. That's when it hit me -- the way he held me when he took me from behind like that. Around my entire waist, his arm wrapped me in an embrace that felt like a surreal visit into a gel-filled reality. His entire body held me tight as he pumped himself into me. Long, slow, deep strokes, and me tightening, tightening. His entire arm was wrapped around my waist, elbow hugging my ribcage, pulling me into him, making me meet him there, right there in the middle where the earth comes crashing down, where the immense gravity of a black hole takes everything inside. Consumes everything around it. Right there in the middle is where he took me. And right there, I was fucked, I fucked, and there, I came loud and sweet. What a morning!

BeautyEyes, if only you knew... these were the fireworks I was telling you about. If only you knew...

Blogthing: What Color Rose Are You?

2007-06-29T20:36:00.000-04:00

Oh So True!

You are a Dark Red Rose

You represent unconscious beauty and deep passion.

Your vibe: sophisticated and worldly

Falling in love with you is: wildly carnal and forbidden

another letter I will never send

2007-06-28T21:35:00.000-04:00

BeautyEyes,

What would I say to you if I could speak freely, without worry, without fear? I would tell you that the past three weeks have been rather difficult for me. I would say that not hearing from you has brought up so many insecurities. That I've been cushioning myself for the hardest fall and the hardest rejection I've ever experienced. I've been trying to callous myself from the hurt and the ache of how your absence affects me. I would tell you that with you, I feel like I am falling in love all over again. I would say that it is a confusing and difficult thing for me because of all my other flings, I've never had to worry about these sorts of things.

And I would tell you that I've had other affairs. You would never ask me, I know. Because you don't want to ruin a lofty image of me and of what we have shared. But without worry or fear, I would want you to know everything about me. I want you to know about polyamory, and about my other secrets. About how my ring finger is longer than my index, and I'm not surprised. About my love of people and individuals, and the creative nature of relationships. I would love to tell you about my husband, and I wish I could share these things without the fear that you would become closed off because of vulnerability and insecurity. The truth is, we are all insecure in some form or fashion, and that fragility grows thick with every passing unanswered question. The questions that eat away at the core of our humanity-strength.

I wish that I could relate to people without feeling sexual attraction, sometimes. I wish that I could be that smart girl who is engaging in every way but sexually. I could be social. But instead, I am this person who feeds off of intimacy that is necessarily laced with sexual innuendo. I wish I could Feel freely without the anxiety that tags along about guilt. So apparently, yes, I do feel guilt. And I hate that I feel guilt. This one aspect of who I am is so liberating, and yet, so enslaving.

I love my husband, and I would never volunteer to abandon what we have together. Perhaps the argument could be made that in my actions with you, I have already abandoned something between he and myself. But that something... to me, is only a platonic form, an ideal that could never be actualized. In his heart, he holds me up as something of a giant, and in his reality-speaking eyes, he knows that I am not that giant. And yet his large and open space allows him to still supply this action. It is this action that makes us who we are, that gives meaning to our love, and that I treasure entirely.

And still, I would reinforce to you that I believe it's wholly possible to be deeply entrenched in and maintain indefinitely an intimate encounter, all the while engaging in the same forces with another.

I don't think falling in love is a selfish act. I don't think monogamy is a farce. I believe in the power and strength that comes from it, and I am devoted to my intertwined existence with my husband. The beauty that arises from this situation is tremendous. Can you accept that? Can you trust me in that? Can you trust yourself to jump, not knowing what the next step may bring? Can you seek beauty and love in every person you encounter, despite the fear and insecurities?

You meditate. That introspection... something connects that is grounded, earthen, woody. Our very bodies speak that same language. That is why we fit in each others' arms so well, so completely, so thoroughly. As though the pathway that connects the both of us to that earthly energy made a complete circuit, traveling through each one of us and returning to the source, the fit, the coupling, the embrace allowed the pathway to flow. Not everyone can feel that. You should celebrate that and revisit this moment when insecurities grow strong. These are real battles that are ever important in our daily lives.

The distance that I felt, while comforting my heart, became one of these battles for me. I let my fear take hold. My fear of what you think of me. My fear of never seeing you or hearing from you ever again. My fear of losing you forever. And yet I know I could never lose you because you have become a part of who I am. Your touch, your vision, your movement through life has influenced me ever since the day we reconnected. So even if you did decide to never speak to me, I will always have the parts of you that you did freely give, once upon a time, and they have become me.

Imagine in another universe somewhere, sexual intimacy between people is a method of life exchanges. The very act, instead of creating a child, results in an embodied exchange of memory. So that once we have been inside one another, we then share the same memories. Our DNA adjusts and we quite literally and physically become a part of the others' flesh. This universe that I speak of is the one that exists in my spirit, in this daily life on earth. I think all intimacy is much expressed in this fashion. Life-histories bleed together, and the person I am today, the person I will be tomorrow is entirely affected by the various individuals I brush up against. I breathe the same air, and share the same breath. Another man's intake is the same as my out-take. My inhalation has been inside another, and so on. Love, hate, anger, frustration -- they are all communicable. And so are walls. The walls I've constructed get passed on to others. and the ones brought down by others I too see crumbling around me.

BeautyEyes, these are only some of the things I would share with you if I could speak freely. If I could give freely, without fear, without worry, without self-doubt. But this doubt is in fact human. And these secrets will die with me. Perhaps when my mind should go frail, these memories will shift and recreate themselves in another form. More likely, I will edit all of this along the way. Whatever the case, I am delighted to know that you do still think of me. And that is something that I just may feel free to tell you.

an update

2007-06-28T19:26:00.000-04:00

Fascinating how things work... I catch myself from falling into a pit of desperate, unrequited, impossible love (or infatuation, whatever label you want), I rip myself from the agony of longing, pine poetically from a distance, and snap myself back to reality. Only, what new reality awaits? Another retinue of men making my life so very interesting. Translation: somehow I've managed to give BeautyEyes some room, giving my own distraught self some comfort space, and as I take in a deep breath of purifying distance, I slowly look around and realize that I'm once again surrounded by fun-loving, handsome men and boy-toys. Everyday I'm greeted at work by one of these super-fun guys who happens to have a tight little body that I so enjoy ogling, and bright bright bright blue eyes that are great at making direct eye-contact with. I mentioned him briefly here, and now that I've mentioned him again, I may as well give him a nickname too. Let's call him The Brit. Not only is he stunningly arrogant (a real turn-on, when done just right), but I swear his eyes say one thing when his lips speak another. On certain individuals this type of behavior can be quite foolish and ostensibly plastic. However, some know how to communicate on multiple levels, and in fact it becomes rather endearing. I like working with The Brit, and I often fantasize about various positions with him. Usually it's me pinned up against the wall and he's madly sucking at my tits, or fucking me with a major sense of pent-up sexual aggression. This is why I love work these days...

My fun Buddy recently called, and it's been nice thinking about him again. I really like him as a friend, and I was thinking back on those days way back before I even was married. My friendship history with B goes so far back and we've always been such comfortable friends, that the sex between us is simply natural. There's no complication of falling in love, since our friendship has already determined what type of emotional connection we enjoy. It's been many many months since I've seen him, but I'd like to get together with him again, really to just hang out. Since it's been so long, I also wonder if the spark is still there... we'll find out about that whenever we see each other again. For us, time is really on our side.

After a long bout of silence between me and BeautyEyes, probably due to both of us sensing a bit of trepidation due to the strong chance of falling for one another, we are text messaging again. I'd be very happy to establish a comfortable type of friendship with him that I have with B, with the benefit of sexual tension of course, but I'm really not sure if that's even possible. With some people, you just can't restrain that intense passion and so it may have to be one of those hot hot hot or cold cold cold types of relationships. And the cold might hurt when it's happening, but the hot just might be totally worth it.

Also, in a couple of weeks, I shall be enjoying the presence of a very good friend -- a gentleman I haven't seen in about five years, but has remained an email buddy since college. He also happens to be a kindred spirit, who I feel I will know for the entirety of my lifetime. That fills me with a deep, deep joy.

Bonus: after two years now, employed in a highly male-dominated field, I've finally managed to make coworker-friends with whom I enjoy hanging out and with whom there is absolutely zero danger of having a fling with. I finally learned something -- if I want to maintain any kind of lasting friendship, I simply can not be sexually attracted to him. Then I don't have to worry about making googly-eyes or unwittingly (or wittingly) entrapping the poor bastard into kissing me and touching me, all in the process of cheating on his wife. Result: I actually have friends who are guys again. It's been a very long time since that has happened. Ever since I got married, all men-friends ceased contact with me like I'm a leper. Does that prove that all my guy friends just really hung around because they thought there was some remote possibility of getting involved with me? Or is it something more territorial? It's all a huge mystery to me.

insecurity and impropriety

2007-06-17T15:53:00.000-04:00

When I was in the high school, I wore pantyhose to school every now and again. One day when I was in the 10th grade, I wore a pair that were hand-me-downs and happened to be a couple sizes too large. No problem, nylons are stretchy, so most of it fit just fine; the only problem was that the length was meant for someone between the sizes of 5'6" to 5'10" or so and as a result, they kept inching their way down my legs, seeing as I was a whopping 5'3" at the time. Of course as they began to sag, I would have to hike them up, bit by bit so that the sagginess was up high enough that the circumference of my thigh would be thick enough to at least hold them for a good half-hour before they began to sag again. I remember I was in social studies class, and in order to do this ritual, I was forced to stick my leg out into the isle between my desk and the wall so that I could pull them up high and tight, in the meanwhile, pulling up my skirt as well. I didn't realize anyone was looking as I was doing this, but apparently, my teacher had! He called me out into the hallway and gave me a stern talking-to. He said "what were you trying to do in there?" and I replied, "I was pulling up my pantyhose because they were slipping down." Mind you, I wasn't attracted to him whatsoever, and I didn't have a clue that it could possibly turn anyone on, let alone be an inappropriate action on my part. He then said to me, "well, you shouldn't be doing that in class, because you really don't know who it could be affecting." I probably went beet red when he said that, proceeded to apologize, and then slinked back into my seat in horror that I could have been "affecting" my teacher. That was my first lesson in sexual impropriety.

Again, when I was in high school, my mother took me bathing suit shopping. I wanted my first bikini... after I had boobs. (Those first sets of two pieces when you're flat as a board really don't count.) After I tried it on, loving the way my barely-there boobies looked in this new suit that looked exactly like a matching bra & panty set, my mom checked it out on me. The first thing she said to me was "don't you feel naked in that?" Quizzically, I looked at her and said "No way! It's a bikini!" All throughout high school, I wore short, short cutoff shorts, tiny shirts, tight tank tops, short mini-skirts, and never did I feel naked. I felt cute, and sexy. But I didn't realize how the sexy part affected others. Perhaps I was a bit oblivious. Really, I was very oblivious. I just wanted to look pretty, never really thinking that my body was at all sexy, given all of my girl friends were over-developed, curvaceous and already looking like real women at the age of 13. I never thought the boys that I wanted even looked at me "like that" anyway, and I was so inexperienced in that arena, why would I possibly be self-conscious about the way I dressed? Those days are now long gone... Now, even though I love the way my legs and ass look in short shorts, I can't bring myself to wear them. Forget mini-skirts! And when I wear a bikini that makes me look hot, I still want to wear a cover up. Let me tell you why: I do hear my mother saying "don't you feel naked?" And then I hear my social studies teacher saying "you don't know who it could be affecting." I went to the beach with my friends a few weeks ago, and wore a bikini. I was self-conscious because I didn't want the wife to feel uncomfortable that I was looking sexy while her husband was right there. And I didn't want her to feel bad that she's overweight and I'm stick-thin. I never "dress up" when I go out with my husband because he says he hates it when I look good. I know he's joking, but on one level, he actually is insecure of having a babe as a wife. That's why I always wear jeans. And pants. I can still look good in them, yet I'm not pushing that button of impropriety. I'm always asking him "is this too much?"

Thank you world for somehow making me dislike my own comfort in this sexy body.

tears have fallen, and then wiped clean

2007-06-14T22:14:00.001-04:00

No matter how much I try to put BeautyEyes out of my mind, I can't stop thinking about him. I'm torn because I would so like to enjoy just savoring his existence, but I also know that there are unbearable limits to what has flowered between us. Limits that my lofty fantasizing has finally hit and now I feel a burning, choking oppression somewhere between my chest and my throat. It is simply, pain. There is a pain of not-knowing. There is a pain of disconnect. There is a pain of loneliness.

Where I work, the people around me are mostly conservative, homophobic, xenophobic, reborn religious zealots who openly judge others in rhetorical, demeaning ways. I continually listen to their crap and am silenced because of my own hesitations to speak out. My coworker today took note that I am too "middle-of-the-fence". Yes, with strangers this is true. It takes a long time for someone to gain my trust, so I don't offer personal opinions readily. Which is what makes it that much harder to stumble upon such an intimate connection, only to have it slip away for the given set of circumstances.

H has mentioned in the past that he really feels it would be ridiculous to expect that he and I have a connection that is unsurpassable -- that: it would be unrealistic to hold on to the notion that I can only have that type of intimacy with him, and no other; and it would be mistaken to believe he could be angry with me for establishing other meaningful connections outside of our coupledom. I know that he understands this concept on an analytical and philosophical level, but at the same time I don't feel it gives me carte blanche to be free and seek out those intimacies with other people. And that is because I do know how very very painful that situation can be. I know that you can not think yourself out of a raw, emotionally torn position. I know that once wounds have been created, they never fully heal and you're then involved in a life-long commitment to tending them. Perhaps that's what marriage is truly about... a lifelong commitment with someone other who is as fully involved with the wounds -- wounds that are no longer your own, but rather something amorphous that is shared and becomes a child, reared by both parents.

So, by not allowing these wounds to even occur, does that mean I am patronizingly protecting us? Am I doing it for the child's own good -- for the good of our stability? Is this a moral place to be?

I hear the same blanket ads coming from these conservative, xenophobic, reborn religious zealots: "A strong family unit is what's best for society. The problem with society these days is the breakdown of the family." What the fuck is that? Of course the assumption is that "family" = husband, wife, children. But within these roles, I feel like I'm lying, and thus my spirit is dying. Within that framework, I feel caged and as though my genuine, vibrant smile is a big fat plastic fake. Yet with H, all of that melts away and we just exist -- we just have a place in the world where things do make sense, and sometimes we move in and out of various roles, but they don't have to stick, unless we want them to. That is precisely why I feel so disconnected right now. By not giving in and opening all this up, I feel like I am pressing down such a fleshy part of who I am, and thus am excising parts of me from the unit that is us. That is the most painful of all. It's not the not-knowing where BeautyEyes is on the issue of what we've done. It's not the distance between our two big cities. It's not the loneliness of being away from him. It's the peeling myself from the mass that was me and H. It's the distance that I've put between us. It's the carving of my own space that is pulling me apart at the same time. Like the siamese twin who dies after surgery, despite owning her own set of healthy organs and limbs, there is a shared spirit that once severed hurts so bad it can not exist alone.

I hate this feeling of wanting to "come out". Sometimes I feel like I would very much like to attend a queer support group. Though I'm comfortable with my sexuality and orientation, I actually am in a particularly marginalized social structure within the grand scheme of things. I just don't know how comfortable I'd be in attending a group meeting...

Scrubs

2007-06-12T22:43:00.000-04:00

-- the tv show that I've begun watching. The main character, JD, (played by Zach Braff) keeps reminding me of BeautyEyes. I'm totally addicted to the show these days, and I'm now quite enamored with this guy, if only because he so reminds me of BeautyEyes. It's not necessarily that they look alike, (though in a way, they really do -- just imagine brown skin and grey eyes, though just as striking) but there's some hint of personality similarity, maybe it's the nerdiness? which I absolutely adore, by the way. This might very well be the first time that I've actually had a celebrity crush... the first time I've ever had any genuine curiosity about getting to know an actor, on a personal level. I'm finding it rather strange, really. I've felt that way about authors, but I think the nature of acting and celebritizing forces automatic walls between us and them, versus a pulling force of mental attraction that comes along with writers.

Anyway, I should probably stop watching the show because it's just pulling me down deeper into my depraved cyclone of obsession. I'm really trying to stop thinking about BeautyEyes because I know our situation is absolutely impossible, and I most likely will never get another weekend with him ever. After I sent him a drunken email, I realized how close to the edge I am with this guy, and the teetering is doing no good whatsoever.

On another front completely: I started a new job today and I'm surrounded for the first time by men who are happily involved with their wives/fiancees. No divorced sense of alienation, no sex-hungry single boys, just men who are (at least outwardly) satisfied with their women. THAT is strange in my profession. How ironic then, that one of these men I find absolutely stunning. Once again, the eyes! This guy brings back memories for me of my girlhood fantasies of who I would want to marry. Dark brown hair, chiseled features, BRIGHT blue eyes, and he's a brit to boot! Witty, and sarcastic as hell with a bite on the end of every statement. Dare I say, hot? I don't work with him directly, so I can't really stare at him for long periods of time given we don't hold very long conversations. But when I can steal the time when he's not looking, I'm amazed at how fucking handsome he is. Nothing like a workplace crush to make the hours go by pleasantly...

my staccatoed journey with polyamory

2007-06-08T18:26:00.001-04:00

Today, I thought about a man who lived an alternate life with me in some other existent universe. He was and remains very special to me because of his role in my nascent (and currently abandoned) life-philosophies of polyamory. I remembered his confusion when I told him I was leaving the country with another man. I remembered that he spoke with my ex about my departure in terms of his broken heart and having fallen for me completely. I remembered him saying that he just didn't understand because we were so good together; he gave me all the space that I asked for, he gave me all the freedom I wanted, so why in the world was I leaving him? It's true. We were amazing together, and he let me live my life and my loves the way I knew how. We had everything going for us, and yet I left him -- for a man who requested that I be monogamous; for a man who wanted to be the only man in my life; for the man I eventually married.

For a brief moment, I had one foot on that alternate path. He was a musician -- lived his life to the beat and rhythms all around. I was a poet, mired in the intangible sounds of worded beauty. Together, we created summertime thunderstorms of two lives that collapsed and expanded along with the cycles of day and night. We were emotionally open to one another, warm and receptive. He, accepting of all I had to offer, was also accepting of my boundless pursuits with other men. He told me he loved me. Every moment we shared together was authentic, genuine. So much so, that as my relationship with H developed, I was asked by H to keep my distance from Mr. Musician. There. It was then that the request made itself loud and clear. H wanted me to himself.

What I didn't understand at the time, that I now realize in small, painful bursts is the poly concept of New Relationship Energy (NRE). I had it all around me during that brief period of time. And as energies go, they interact with other energies, combating, canceling and overriding one another. The thing I think most people take for granted is that the polyamorous life is not one of a non-commital state. In fact, it demands a hyper-vigilence in commitment because the pull of NRE is that which is so incredibly strong, all but the deeply rooted seedlings will be torn apart by its passions. And that is exactly what happened with Mr. Musician and H. I was not committed to any one person, and so the strongest NRE won out. I gave in to emotional sentiment, and didn't quite have a fully developed sense of what kind of life I wanted to lead, with my H, or with anyone else. And so, I fell back to what I knew -- a whirlwind fairy tale of romantic love that had a very clear path as to which direction it was headed. It was simple. It was clean.

Years later, after the dust has settled (somewhat), I am coming to understand more and more that my yearning for diverse sources of intimacy plays a large role in who I am, and in the person I would like to become. Where I am right now makes sense to me, with respect to my desires and my happiness. The affairs that I have committed fall right in place, when I look at my relationship history as a whole. I am extremely enchanted by that New Relationship Energy, and so much reflection happens as a result of that. When I lay back in the still, calm comfort of our healthy relationship, sometimes I feel a bit dead. And that's not to say that our relationship is dead, but more specifically -- that my individual blossoming is halted on some levels. It would really pain my H to hear me say that, so I don't tell him in such explicit language; instead, I act in ways to stimulate myself and create the space I need to keep going. I also realize that my relationship with H is central to this flowering. Our connection is like a bastion that keeps me centered, keeps me anchored. I could not follow my fiery spirit without what H and I share. I'm not sure that he understands that, and without informing him of all this, I'm not sure that I could clarify that for him. I can only hope that some primal part of him can sense it and realize it without the necessity of articulating the matter.

Epiphany

2007-06-07T10:27:00.000-04:00

Wow, I just watched this video from YouTube and I had an incredible realization.

What was so different with BeautyEyes? Why that sense of comfort? Why that feeling of familiarity? At the time, I couldn't put my finger on it, but now I understand. Touching him and being with him felt like being with another woman. Our kisses, our touches, everything about us had the quality of sapphic desire. Normally, I abhor the categorizations of male/female, masculine/feminine, etc. The dichotomization of gender seems quite limiting and pushes up walls and boundaries where they shouldn't exist. And yet still, there is something inside me that finds real comfort in making this distinction: lesbian sex is different from straight sex. Aside from the obvious technical differences, there is something else about lez-love that seems to cast a certain hue on the act that is generally rare in man/woman sex.

I've had sex with a lot of men. I've kissed plenty more. In almost every instance, the underlying quality of it all has a sense of probing. And it's not just the physical quality of a penis probing the vagina either -- it's the feeling of the other as something foreign that begs understanding. It's the searching for common ground, and through that search it's discovering uncharted territories that bring excitement and heart-pounding breath. I've had sensuous sex, acrobatic sex, emotional sex, spiritual sex, communion-type sex, fun sex, rote sex, drunken sex, rolling sex, beginner's sex, artful sex. It's run the gamut as to the varying character of sex I've had, and still that probing is there. As though, even when I lay naked, I am still clothed. As though layers still exist, in want of shedding.

Perhaps it has nothing to do with gender or lesbian sex, categorically. Maybe it is simply a matter of translucency and comfort, and where I find that quality happens amidst women, and occasionally that special man, or two. (As it seems, I married one.) I suppose the affairs I've had with these other "manly men" has indeed filled a niche left somewhat vacant by monogamous sex with the man I intend to spend the rest of my life with. I hate to think of marriage as an act of emasculation, but on some levels, that's exactly what happens, to the both of us. Becoming partners naturally kicks away power-play, as that is required emotionally to get along day to day. "Straight (hetero) sex" allows me to succumb under someone else's thumb, and fulfill a somewhat subservient role that I do miss from time to time with my H.

So the question remains, why did my experience with BeautyEyes not fall into the "straight (hetero) sex" category? Could it be our shared history -- a built-in precursor to an emotional connection? Could it be that I am allowing another person aside from my H into a place strictly reserved for a true loving relationship for the first time? Whatever the case, it's different, it's terrifying, and it's sure to bring change into my life. At the very least, it's brought up strong sentiments about living poly again that I've long buried and want to keep submerged. I want it to remain hidden from sight and I don't want to deal with the consequences. I don't want to share this with my husband because I don't want our relationship to change. I don't want to make him unhappy, and I don't want us to be quarrelsome. In some ways, you could say I don't want us to grow. There's far too much youthful spirit in our relationship right now to ruin with an accelerated growth spurt. My discomfort in hiding these truths is more than tolerable, in comparison to what might arise if we change things now. Maybe some day I'll get too antsy to keep holding it in, or maybe he'll sense that I'm just too "off", or perhaps even he'll change of his own accord and develop the desires to stray as I currently do. Who knows, though the latter is rather doubtful. Until then, I'm not going to sacrifice our current state of affairs for a brief sanctuary in loose-lipped honesty. No good could come of that. Besides, I have this here -- my group of anonymous friends -- should I find the need for full disclosure. And thank the heavens for that. Without this community, I might have done something really stupid already.

lips

2007-06-06T13:19:00.000-04:00

One of the very noticeable aspects of my looks is what my H lovingly refers to as D.S.L. -- D.ick S.ucking L.ips. Of my entire family, I was endowed with these pouty, puffy puckers and of all my facial features, these DSL are my most prominent. From my very first boyfriend, I can remember wetting my lips in hungry anticipation for what may come. I remember years of pre-sexual attractions where the slightest hint of my tongue tasting the inner edge of my lips resulted in enigmatic reactions from the boys around me. My lips are a gift from the passion gods, as they get licked, sucked, and bitten -- both hard and gentle. And with each nuance of movement, I am sent to all edges of the pleasured universe.

So when I get the chance to play with lips like mine, and I can lick those fleshy appendages and suck them into my mouth, and feel the thick tissues rolling around between my teeth, against my lips, across my tongue, it's a kiss that's so fucking incredible, I could cum just through the pulse of that sucking. Needless to say, BeautyEyes has those sexy lips that I just love remembering in various tableaus across my body. Not only was our kissing out of this world, but his soft and full lips planted amazing sensations all over my body. My exposed neck fell victim to his suckling, and as I discovered the next morning, he had left the mark of his naughty, poorly-behaved lips against my tender flesh. A hickey! It was an accident that I'm sure I knew was happening at the time, but it just felt too wonderful to make him stop.

My favorite montage is of his full lips wrapped around my breast. The contrast of my creamy skin against his darkness combined with that feeling of such completeness is something I enjoy revisiting on almost a daily basis. The vibrations I felt from his guttural whimpering, that resonated from the back of his throat, always became padded down through the thickness his mouth created and echoed ever deeply into the core of my nerves. I loved seeing his face rubbing against my chest, brow knitted in absolute delight, nipple trapped inside the vacuum of his lips. And never did he suck too hard. He always knew my threshold of the pleasure-pain tolerance and backed off at just the right moments, only to ensnare me again in just a few moments. Something about those lips...

something new

2007-05-31T22:23:00.000-04:00

when BeautyEyes let his fingers roam, they explored so much of my body, and in that exploration, I too discovered new delights. I was apprehensive about letting his fingers penetrate because I was wearing an Instead menstrual cup. yes, you can have sex with this thing inside you, and really, there's no difference. however, because his fingers would be probing so deeply, I didn't want him to feel something strange inside of me. thus, the excruciatingly long bouts of clittoral foreplay. his fingers danced a choreography I've never felt, and it wasn't too extreme of a sensation either. normally, I'm extremely sensitive on my clit, but his gentle ways did wonders on my body. two fingers would glide smoothly, one on each side, flanking my tight little clit, moving my skin side to side, back and forth, up and down. his rhythms were perfect, never off beat from what my body was crying for. he was so attuned to my pleasure that it was as if we were one breath. he watched my face for tell-tale signs and listened to my inhalations. he never wavered, and our motions were syncronous with one another. occasionally, he would dip one finger, then maybe two, just barely glancing the inside rim of my very tight pussy. and then back outside, back to the manipulation of my clittoral pleasure. this continued on for well over an hour. of course there was more going on other than his fingers rubbing me, but for this post, I'm focusing on masturbation.

eventually, he wore me down, broke me away from my apprehensions and I let him slip the whole length of his two fingers inside me. as he eased deeper inside, I could hear him whimper, could feel his breath changing pace. could he really be enjoying this as much as me? the way he flitted his fingers against each other and against the walls of my cunt was something else entirely. I could feel my eyes roll to the back of my head, in complete surrender to what BeautyEyes was making me feel. he started pushing harder, deeper, more rhythmically, and I could feel these scratching sensations where he must have been pushing against my G-spot. (mind you, I've never felt this so-called g-spot, until this weekend.) my body responded by pushing back against his palm and now his thumb was playing around with my lips and my clit. I couldn't take it anymore and started really fucking his fingers, my hips grinding down, my body grasping his, tightening down against him. and that's when I felt it -- the heat, the pressure, the building of muscle tension in my hands, my arms, my abdomen, my thighs clenched taking everything inside me. One final scratch on that small hard mound behind my pubic bone, and that was it. I couldn't believe I was cumming all over his hand. Screams tearing out of me, moans released into the air, he brought me to climax for the first time, with only the dexterity of his fingers. incredible.

now that I am home, looking at porn, I'm experimenting with different touches. trying desperately to imitate BeautyEyes, I've learned another part of my sexuality. I've learned quiet discipline -- the kind that creates a build-up so extreme, the kind that takes patience and time. light circles of barely touching fingertip to clit, leave the grinding for another time. it's a sweet kind of pleasure, unlike the gritty, hard palm-fucking to which I'm accustomed. I have BeautyEyes to thank for this. sometimes all it takes is to slow down and recognize subtlety.

New Bloggies!!!

2007-05-31T10:12:00.000-04:00

Okay, I realize this blog has been completely introverted, introspective, intro-everything and it's been all about me for a really long time. I'm not sure that will change much, since this is well, a quiet corner of refuge for me. However, I am creeping out more and more and slowly finding bright halos of light out *there* in the blogosphere. Thanks to various comments and other bloggers who have dropped by, I have come into contact with a whole other side to this wonderful world of writers. I'd like to give thanks to three in particular who have given me a breath of fresh air these past two days...

Thanks Bunny for the delightful reading. The article you linked to on failed buttsex had me rolling. It is for some, not so much for others. The article is indeed a gem.

EmmaK stumbled across my blog somehow, and I've been enjoying reading the lastest posts from Mommy Has A Headache. I thoroughly enjoy her writing thus far, and look forward to catching up on past archives, as well as future posts.

And then, like a blessing, in her links, I find Polyamorously Perverse. I can't say enough how this couple's writings have touched me, made me cry, made me feel hope and love, even in the brief time that I've spent reading a few posts. So much sheer love that comes across, reminding me of what I have with my H. In particular, the post entitled Love Letters articulates something that I didn't even know I was experiencing. It's rather unlikely that my H does read this blog, but the thought of it is spectacular, and in a way, I wish he did. There's so much that I put here that I am too much of a coward to express to him in person, and if only he could see for himself, then perhaps that dialogue could begin. Polyamorously Perverse also takes me to that place that I once glimpsed in my naive youth, but like a sage, has insights and deeply real, human experience that gives the writing a character of profundity. Thank you thank you thank you C. & Tom Paine.

---the sex---

2007-05-31T07:41:00.000-04:00

Each morning that I awoke next to this man in his bed, I immediately felt flushed with desire. The cool morning breeze against the thin cotton sheets would gently caress me into full wakedness, and I could feel a tingling sensation throughout my body. What's incredible to me is that the type of desire was pure pleasure. I did not aspire to reach orgasm, ever. I merely wanted touch. The repeated rise and fall of sensory experience was what I yearned for; just the pleasure of his skin against mine, his lips anywhere on me, and even the simple pleasure of looking into his eyes as we shared space silently. Without getting too carried away, but in the spirit of honest expression, I want to say that during these intense moments of intimacy, I felt a love between us that came into a fullness unable to be articulated.

Two evenings, back to back, of sucking on lips and necks and chests and fingertips, interspersed with feeding and drinking and walking and holding hands and hugging. Oh, but the kissing and licking and touching -- his touch was marvelous! his hands alone brought me so much pleasure, the type of pleasure that stays with you, that I find impossible really. rocking my body against the grasp of his palm, scratching away at my insides, driving me, moving me, making me feel like I could seriously cum at any moment, whenever he wanted, again and again. I want to see him again, if only to feel him. he romanced me across multiple planes, and damn the sensuality of it all was overwhelming. his eyes. his beautiful eyes would watch me. he would give me pleasure, I would be floating somewhere outside of my consciousness and with the twitch of an eyelid, I could see he was watching me take that pleasure he was giving. his fingers were inside me and without blinking, his eyes set on my face, watching me in ecstasy.

on our sides, facing one another, his fingers driving me to a frenzy, for hours we were slow, kissing, licking at an unbearably light pace, the torture was delicious. he eased into me, gentle and kind. for hours we lay there, taking turns pleasing one another, tapping into a magnificent geyser of eroticism and passion. how long I could gaze into his eyes... we would go hungry. hunger for sensory excitement, hunger for touch, hunger for the soft padding of each other's lips, hunger for drink, hunger for food, desire in such a raw form as hunger.

BeautyEyes. we unraveled one another, and I don't really want to be put back together any time soon. this is indulgence, and relishing every moment after. he emailed me too -- exactly the bit of response I needed to know that everything is great between us.

Aftermath

2007-05-29T08:12:00.000-04:00

First I'd like to thank all the new visitors to this blog -- I'm pleasantly surprised and graciously welcoming of your reflections, your readership, your thoughts, your input. This place has been a refuge for me, somewhere I go when I need clarity, or a simple outlet for my harried emotions. I don't profess to be capable of giving advice or teaching in any way, but my writings do tend to be rather meaningful for me, and when these thoughts can touch someone else in a similar fashion, then I'm grateful for that momentary shared experience.

Yesterday was quite difficult for me because I woke up to an empty home, my head, body and spirit filled with a chaotic mix of feelings that ranged from exhaustion to delight. I craved a single, quiet response from BeautyEyes that never actually appeared. I wanted to know that he was okay with everything, or at least that he was going through something, anything, and that I in fact wasn't alone in my state of absolute confusion. The absence of recognition was painful, but eventually I did manage to get through the entire day.

And like clockwork, my H, in his hypersensitive extrasensory perception, tells me a story. It is about a colleague, who is currently suffering in his marriage because of how affairs have insinuated themselves between the two, and about the repurcussions of it all. The magnitude of those consequences is astounding, really. The couple has been living with this heavy issue for over ten years, with little to no resolution. And my H, in the telling of his tale, is so calm and understanding. He explains everything with a pragmatism that I feel is meant to give comfort to me. The thought crossed my mind once more that perhaps he does know about this website, and perhaps he has known all along. This thought does not give me the creeps anymore; in fact, if it is the case, what can I do about it? I did not broadcast it, I have tried the best I can to keep this part of me to myself, and so if he has stumbled upon it, and still is able to be the man I know him to be, then what is there to do?

In our phone conversation last night, he reminded me of the "pact" that we made -- that if I were to have a simple sexual encounter, to not mention it to him. There would be no need of it, for all it would bring to our lives would be misery, jealousy and unnecessary pain. However, if I found myself falling in love with another person, (which often happens in extramarital affairs) then that is an issue that needs a dialogue.

How could it be?? The timing for this kind of conversation is on the mark, in so many ways. Here I am feeling as though I have crossed a line with BeautyEyes because our interactions were so fully incorporated -- he is a good person and on a friendship level, he is someone that I trust and admire; on an intimate friend level, he is someone I feel connected with on so very many planes; on a sexual level, I feel as though our compatibility is tremendous. And so I am shaken; perhaps I should not have pursued this line through the thicket, for now I am caught by own flesh. And just as I am working through these feelings, here comes my H, bringing up these very issues from his perspective.

As painful as it was to have that kind of conversation over the phone, knowing what I know, it brought me such comfort and trust in my love for my H. He knows who I am, and he knows my passion. He may or may not know the details of what pursuits I've had, but whatever the case, he is an incredibly compassionate man whose love I cherish fully and eternally. Our conversation helped ground me and remind me of the strength I have in my core. I am entirely thankful for that, and today is a new day. I still have the desire to hear from BeautyEyes -- just a signal that things are okay between us. I still also plan on sending him the letter I'm currently writing and the package I'm compiling for his home and work space. So in a way, I'm still traveling this path, but I'm rooted again in what I know to be a good place for me. And that is truly a miracle.

Beautiful Spirits

2007-05-27T20:29:00.000-04:00

There are some people that you meet and spend time with who set off a gong inside your soul, and it's as if your world is suddenly turned upside-down, inside-out, and twisted this way and that. They take inspiration from you and you from them. They emanate warmth and light and you feel privileged just to know them, just to bask in their sunshine. In my life, there have been a handful of people like this, and I am joyous to announce that I have discovered another of these Beautiful Spirits in BeautyEyes.

I have just returned from my weekend in his city and it was the most remarkable two and a half days I have spent straight with someone other than my H. Spending all that time together -- all evening friday, sleeping in the same bed together that evening, all day saturday, sleeping in bed together that evening, and most of sunday, traveling on a train together. That much intimate time with someone and you get to see shades and hues of a personality that generally lay under the radar in everyday proper behavior. And having spent that much time together, I feel closer to him than I could ever have imagined. BeautyEyes is every much the beautiful spirit I believed him to be instinctually, and surprisingly more than what I had expected. He shared so much of himself with me, and I could see, could feel that he opened his heart wide open to me, let me in, and we danced together in each others open spaces.

Our interactions moved seamlessly through time, through space, and through various types of relational roles. Friend, confidante, lover... we were so free with one another and in that freedom, discovered a boundless beauty in the fluidity of our friendship. I felt a kinship between us that flowered overnight.

Our bodies mingled together as though they knew each other once before, in a distant lifetime, and our flesh played out a symphony, harmonizing in celebration of rediscovery. I couldn't help but feel as though there was no other place to be other than with him at every moment we spent together. I'm remembering that feeling I had sensed initially -- that the connection that BeautyEyes and I share demands a sense of romance and true friendship, that to continue along this path invokes a flag of danger in the possibility of creating something beyond a simple sexual affair. I'm remembering how I came to the understanding that any advance in our interactions would develop into something quite remarkable, and in fact, something rather threatening. And when I see in his eyes the very same comprehension, I know that we have already introduced that element, and have no other choice but to simply move on from here.

I felt a deep sadness upon our departure today. We connected in such a profound way that the abruptness of our goodbyes stood as a chasm in space and time that seemed artificial. Perhaps in another universe, I stayed there, moved there, and we lived a life, creating bounty together. And it's as though our time spent together these few days acted as a wormhole by which these universes crossed, commingling two lifetimes that just can not exist simultaneously. I don't know what will happen from here. I do know that these past few months of sporadic conversation with BeautyEyes has been like standing at an open door that for so long was closed in a dark alley, largely unnoticed. And standing there these past few months, looking through that open door, I could only use my instincts, and my limited senses to determine what lay ahead. Now, after this experience, it's as though I have stepped over the threshold and still can not see beyond my limited senses. It is bright, white light that blinds me. It is the light of his Beautiful Spirit.

Post #100

2007-05-19T22:58:00.000-04:00

Well, I thought I should celebrate this post, seeing as it's the 100th one that I'm writing. So, YAY! I haven't fallen off the earth completely, but I have let this blog fall to the wayside for quite some time. The regularity being once or so a month. I'm okay with that. I haven't had much to report on the AAAA side of me anyway, so much of this is basically up to date. That being said, I guess a part of the reason why I'm blogging again is because I have a reason to do so again.

As I mentioned briefly on my last entry, I am in fact traveling soon for the sole purpose of meeting up with BeautyEyes. Some part of me is a bit conflicted about this because it has been so long since I've strayed, so there's that element of change that plays a role in making me feel a bit strange to do so. The other is that similar feeling that I had with B when I went out of my way to meet up with him. As though, the planning part of the cheating takes things to another level of being sinister. It's as if unplanned passion is more excusable.

And yet, the mere hint of memory that has resurfaced while thinking about seeing BeautyEyes again is enough to dazzle me with excitement, like waiting for a present that can't be opened quite yet.

When I heard the eagerness in his voice, it made me so happy that I decided to be so spontaneous. I was very nervous calling him at first, and in fact the very first time I called, he didn't answer his phone. And I didn't leave a message. I decided it wasn't fated. So when my phone rings five mintues later, I was utterly surprised to see his name on the screen. It was a total long shot, last minute thing. I practically expected him to say something like he wasn't going to be in town. I say to him I'm thinking of coming up to his city, and almost immediately, he says "Yes! I think you should do it." That was enough to cement my plans. Not only would I have a place to stay, but the whole reason of going -- to see BeautyEyes, if he wanted to see me -- was just now reinforced. He is in fact still interested.

Amazing. So, once again, I am back on this path. And once again, I'm remembering his thick, wavy hair, his delicate fingers, his soulful lips, I'm remembering his mouth wrapped around my nipple, and his hands wrapped around my waist. I'm remembering how he had my hair in his fist as he deeply kissed me, and how he pulled my body so tight into his. Incredible. Where do these memories get stored when they're not in use? And how is it that I can revisit them so easily? And how did I file away this other life, this other world of secrecy and promiscuity so simply?

My ability to categorize and insulate is sometimes frightening. Something about that seems rather sociopathic. Perhaps it is. Thus, the anonymous blogging. Such is life.

Happy 100 to me!

a visit from the grave

2007-05-18T21:59:00.000-04:00

I met a girl last weekend, with whom our shared energy was ultimately inspiring. Talking to her reminded me of forgotten ideals, and of some life in one of those alternate realities that could have taken place in my life, but for other unforseen decisions, I'm here. And here, I was reminded of That, Out There. She was sexy, in the kind of way that I admire; humble, quiet, full of mysteries, great sense of humor. I found myself attracted to her, but in a whole-person kind of way. As in, I wanted to talk to her more. I wanted the rest of the company to keep receding into the background, just so that we could continue our remarkable conversations together. We vibed. That's a nice feeling.

In my mind, I felt as though I had to confront these feelings welling up. Attraction to her person. Attraction to her body? Am I attracted sexually to her? Why can't I just feel comfortable with this part of who I am? The love I share with my husband exists in a realm beyond any relationship I could possibly ever have with another being. But does that mean I must forsake all new possibilities of meaningful relationships outside of my primary one? A part of me wanted desparately to simply lust after this new friend. But at the same time, I could feel that I would have been forcing it. I would be doing it because that would be the only form of acceptable wandering, with my H's approval.

When I joke about being sexually attracted to another woman, he gallantly says, I know, I know. You really want to go off and mess around with another chic, don't you? It's with a smile, a giggle, a nudge-nudge. If I joke about being attracted to another man, it's suddenly time to stop playing, that's not funny, don't even joke like that. His insecurity will keep me close far longer than he could ever imagine possible.

Why can't my reassurances to him result in a stronger sense of self-esteem in him? Why isn't our mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex reinforcement to him that I would never leave him for sexual reasons? Why isn't my dedication and deep loyalty to our love and our life that we share together communicated well enough for him to let go of the insecurity, enough to give me the freedom that he knows I desire? I am coming to realize, I would never ask for it.

Of course not. That would be inviting him the opportunity to say no. And then my disappointment would be made public between us, and I would have absolutely zero control over my choices. I would be creating a path for welled up resentment. And it would inject distrust. He would be questioning my every move, my every silence, my every grimace and bout of blues. He would second-guess even more about the validity of my love, and the depth of my commitment. Of course I could never ask for it. I could only ever accept it as a gift, and it is a gift that must be freely given.

In the meanwhile, I'll continue to steal it where or when I can. The news is, I will be visiting BeautyEyes in his city next weekend. I have half a mind to tell him we should be friends, since my marriage apparently bothers him so very much. But hearing the excitement in his voice when I called him makes me wonder what it is he really wants. Are his morals so strong as to complicate something that could just be simple and beautiful? Perhaps. I shall find out in a week and a half.

an appreciative wife

2007-04-15T21:07:00.001-04:00

so. it has been a very long time since I've done any kind of anonyma-living. a very long time. i've somehow managed to not return any of Mr. Smooth's phone calls, not contacted my Buddy, not email BeautyEyes, not bug M with innocent text messaging, and not be sexually attracted to anyone at work. sex with my H has continued to be a blessing, and i've actually gotten to a point where I'm rather comfortable and truly enjoy receiving oral from him. sex is still not as frequent as i prefer (nor he for that matter), but we still rock each other like mad in bed. our marital life on other fronts is ridiculously perfect, and I couldn't imagine a better person to spend the rest of my life with.

I realize it must be confusing, or troubling even, how I can feel such profound joy and happiness in our marriage, and yet be totally accepting in my non-moral stance about committing adultery. i can easily see how it could show lack of integrity, as though i am lying to myself. and yet, through all of this reflection, and after distancing myself from these actions, i still feel the same -- wholly and integrally in tune with what is true to my heart.

recently, i had a few moments of jealousy crop up when i entertained the idea that perhaps my H's long hours at work this year were his cover for having an affair. then the denial hit -- "no, no, of course he's not having an affair; I know exactly what's keeping him at work each and every day. and he's too distracted, he could never keep something like that from me. besides he's a wuss, he'd totally fall in love if he were involved with someone else, and then it would be obvious." but i kept playing anyway -- "okay, so what if he is having an affair, and i'm totally falling for his act?" then i starting thinking about which of the women i knew who he might want. what's funny is i wouldn't mind if it was one of our friends... unless she happened to be more of a friend to him than to me. isn't that strange? jealousy. fear of the unknown. i let my mind play that game for a little while, and then all of the sudden, i said to myself, fuck it. if it's happening, it's happening. i sure as hell don't want to know about it. we're still happy, no matter what outside information I know or don't know. we enjoy each other's company so very much in our recreational time, that in all honesty, what he does at work, on his time, i could care less, so long as it doesn't come back to bite me (as in stds or open flaunting that would directly lead to causing me pain, in the manner of jealousy). and so i realize, i could easily participate in an open relationship, with the basic ground rules of common courtesy of course. i mean shit, we're already swingers, it's not much of stretch to push it all the way open, is it?

and here comes my black guilt of a conscience creeping up, "aha. you knew this all along. this is what you wanted from the beginning, and you were too much of coward to say it up front. and now you're trying to inject this lifestyle into a person who does not choose it freely. this is no good. i can not entice a man into the simple and acceptable life of monogamy and flip it around on him once he's been ensnared. that just isn't fair." so i go on, thankful for the beautiful life i'm living, for the romance my wonderful husband is giving, and for all the privilege this life has to offer.

all along, knowing that i could easily live on my own, promiscuous and free. I could, if I had to. And I would enjoy it, thoroughly. and yet, a married life with my H is what I prefer. It is what I choose. Everyday I choose him over the myriad other choices and opportunities that await. without the "options", I would not have the opportunity to make such a profound, existential choice.

no real appropriate title...

2007-03-08T11:38:00.000-05:00

sometimes I really wish I could share here, some intimate letters that I have written and/or received from friends. letters that were created under moments of true inspiration, real connections and amazing insight. but there is a place for that intimacy and divine creativity, and that place is not here. but here I will reflect on the world of letter-writing, and romanticism.

I never much was a girly-girl, or a hopeless romantic for that matter. in fact, I've always been the practical, down-to-earth, easy-going chic whose smooth moves glide through time effortlessly. I am of small stature, with seemingly delicate features, but when you hold me, you know otherwise -- that in fact, I'm rather athletic, strong and resilient. perhaps I've often even tried to play down the feminine features, prefering to come off more as a tough girl, of the smiling-independent type, but every now and then I like to imagine myself as a "pretty lady".

Beauty Eyes gently brushed my hair off my cheek and said to me, "you shouldn't hide your femininity, you're beautiful."

And so it surprises me when I catch myself off gaurd, dreaming or fantasizing about a long-distanced love affair, be it through space or through time. Like 18th c. romantic love stories, I switch to this non-reality of having a an affair by way of letters -- the ones that get shoeboxed until I'm dead and then my children discover this lost world of the most amazing love letters. But those times are no more. Who writes letters these days? When it's all on email. And life happens so immediately, no time for reflection, no time for digestion, no time for nostalgia, no time for patience. It's all right now. and it's all I need it now.

Can intimate, meaningful friendships exist without a shared sexuality? And can they exist beside the ONE MAIN relationship that is sanctioned and blessed by your community -- that of marriage, your spouse? I don't know any clean answer for that.

I know that I like the intimacy that sex brings. I like sex as recreation. I like loving my friends, as brothers and as sisters. I also like flirting. But the quality that really brings to life connections between two individuals is something deeper and beyond any one thing I've just mentioned. And it's touching that essence that is shared across the limited lives of people as individuals. It's glimpsing that eternal beauty that we all possess. And for lack of a better word, it's something divine. That's what I strive for, and that's what I mourn when the connection is lost. Perhaps there are a myriad of ways to establish that type of relationship with another, but for now I've found sexual intimacy a pretty straightforward way into it. For some, it is too much. And I understand that. For some, divinity can be touched through sheer obligation, respect or other social stratification of emotion. Perhaps as I grow older, the sex will fall to the side, and the fraternal love will rise. Or not. Who knows? All I know is right now it's hard as hell to ignore attraction. I still have not heard a convincing reason to do so.

I wish I could be like my husband. I wish I could find complete fulfilment through devotion. He loves me so thoroughly, needs me and wants me and is utterly devoted to me and to us. And I suppose that should be enough for me. But as much as I know that he is my perfect match in harmony and in life, my heart's flesh still wanders from time to time. I am aware of its throbbing, and when these moments arise and I must contain it, a thick sadness overwhelms me. These times do pass. And new irresistible joys lurk around the corner. Most of the time, those joys are shared with my H. And the times they aren't... that's for the dark recesses of my memory.

Nice Orgasm

2007-02-27T11:11:00.000-05:00

Wow, I just had one of the nicest masturbatory orgasms I've had in a while. Sometimes all it takes is a little something new to kick it up a notch. After a bit of blog-surfing and ending up at the brilliant eros, logos, I decided to revisit a site she has on her side bar that I'd been to a while back -- I Feel Myself.

I think my brain goes through an exhilarating-numbing cycle that goes something like this: for fantasies and for porn, I think about the same concept (i.e. force, incest, lesbian, etc.) and it will be for some period of time when that's the only concept I can think of to get me off. And so it goes until finally it loses its edge, and I just can't seem to cum anymore. (Or perhaps I've orgasmed so much that the brain loses its chemical high that is normally induced by orgasm?)

And so it was today that I unexpectedly stumbled once again, across the best masturbation artistry ever found on the internet. Today, I had the divine pleasure of experiencing Bisou and her provocative form as she rubbed herself in such a tantalizing position. You must see it for yourself. I'm not sure how long her video will be offered as a freebie, but if you can view it, then the pleasure will be all yours. She happens to be in my favorite sexual position, the one I cum by the most, be it with another person or by myself. And her special quirk is something that gave me that extra umph! that took me right over the edge. Not to mention, I was touching myself while seated, behind my desk, in my office (at home). This change in position for me also made something of a novel experience (relatively speaking that is) to enhance my pleasure. All very nice.

EDIT: 12:18pm -- okay, so I went back to see Bisou again, and WOW another very nice orgasm. Twice within an hour. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Bisou!!

They made me do it.

2007-02-27T00:54:00.000-05:00

My first time back in a bit, and I was forced by blogger to switch my account to the newer version. Surprisingly, it wasn't much of a hassle, and so far, so good.

I just wanted to briefly whine... about how sometimes I just wish I could have a friend in real life who I could actually talk to about this side of me. Someone who wouldn't judge me, or start moralizing about what adultery and what affairs do to people, to relationships, to society, blah blah blah. I wish there was another 'me' out there who I could be totally and completely honest with and everything would be fine. The only problem with that is... it could never happen, because to protect my beautiful and amazing relationship with H, I would avoid any type of emotional-bordering-on-sexual (of course there would be some kind of sexual element) connection that could arise from meeting said other 'me'.

Otherwise, in my flesh-and-blood life right now, things are going swimmingly. Life's chaos is life's bounty. And currently, I'm revelling in it all.

Cheers, mes amis!

my little pink bunny

2007-02-05T07:39:00.000-05:00

This entry is a little late... sorry Rabbit Vibrator Lady...

Last Friday, I was gifted with the Wireless Rabbit Vibrator. A funny little thing it is -- a pink dildo (5") attached to a bunny rabbit with a vibrator inside the shaft. The idea is that as the vibrator gets to work, the bunny's nose & ears transfer the vibrations to your clit. The selling point on the Wireless Rabbit Vibrator is that attached to each of the rabbit's limbs are straps that wrap around your legs and your waist so that you can go hands-free with it (even wear it in your undies).

I was excited to try it out, as the elastic straps were intriguing to me. I liked the idea of not using my hands -- perhaps I could get even deeper into the fantasy without my hands getting in the way. Not to mention I'd be able to use them elsewhere...

When I brought the package inside, I couldn't wait to get the batteries in it, but I couldn't figure out for the life of me how to unscrew the cap! I think I ended up breaking the control switch, because now it only turns on or off, with no in-between adjustments. (In case you decide to get one of these, please be careful with the switch! You have to actually peel back the rabbit's jelly-body from the hard plastic dildo case inside. THEN unscrew the cap.)

Once I got the batteries in, I washed the bunny with some gentle soap and jumped in bed with the thing. The straps were cold and wet, and they too were a little difficult to figure out, but eventually I got them on me. The only problem is that in order to put the straps on, the dildo has to be inside you already. Wanting to get it hands free quickly, I ended up skipping the best part -- the slow pushes that gently gets the vibrator inside, nice and hot. Instead, I just pushed it right in, strapped myself up and turned it on. Actually, because I broke the controller, it kept slipping on and off, vibrating here and there when I was getting it all adjusted and strapped on. That gave some unexpected thrills.

Though my collection of toys is growing, I generally don't use them much. Perhaps I'm too easy of a lay. I rarely think to even go to the cabinet, and generally when H isn't home, and I'm feeling frisky, I just use my hands -- they're so familiar after all! However, I like the idea of breaking out of old habits, at least to trigger different responses by using different tactics. So this is what led me to the vibrating rabbit. I've mentioned before that clitoral stimulation for me generally is too intense. But lately, I've been enjoying how H goes down on me, and I thought that if I could train myself to feel things differently on my clit, then maybe I'd be able to get off easier through oral stimulation. So maybe then, the rabbit's cute little nose and flickering ears can get me started.

to be continued...

life goes on

2007-01-23T21:27:00.000-05:00

events in life occur and we can fight them, embrace them, or plainly accept them for what they are. events like kisses, like fondles, like hugs, like new friendships and rediscovered old ones. events like losing friends over foolish issues, like losing and finding various loves. events like surprise family-planning and unexpected needs of those near and dear. these things happen and we're constantly sifting through desirable actions and undesirable reactions. we weigh through turbulence and find some balance that we can live with, a temporary harmony that works. at least for now.

most of the time, it doesn't make sense. life just happens, and sometimes we can read rationale into it, but looking at the whole fabric of time and relation, it truly doesn't make sense.

There are times I forget that this blog is but a portion of the whole me. my perception at times is that this adulterous life is the complete me. that all else of the non-Anonyma life falls to the side and the "real" beaming bright life of my self is only Anonyma. these are the times I obsess, check the email, read the blog, write the comments, read the blogs, check the email. these are the times my perspective goes askew and I forget that adultery is generally perceived as wrong and hurtful by the majority of the american population.

but then, life goes on. daily I go to work. daily I eat. daily I engage this physical me who is only Anonyma for such a small percentage of my existence. I currently feel the need to give anonyma.persona a rest, and give homage to a complete rendering of who I am, as faithfully and as sincerely as I can. of course this must remain anonymous, so I will still refrain from details that may give away my identity.

in very short time, my life will be transformed. the change will be momentous, and I will have very little time to frolic the anonyma way. my writing will probably decrease even more than it has already. I will probably be entering a new stage of relationship with H. one that I sense is maturing into something even more special than it already has been. (no, I am not pregnant, no we are not planning on having any kids. period.)

I am saying goodnight and goodbye this evening, to Beauty Eyes -- in my own manner to suit my emotion and well-being. I shall let our reunion slip away gracefully and enter a starry sleep under the frigid winter skies. as short-lived as it was, the fire we shared will burn consistent and bright in who I am today and who I will be tomorrow. and to let it all go actually brings relief. the air I breathe now feels light. Beauty Eyes has shifted to memory. a very fond memory indeed, but the motions have begun nonetheless.

where this blog is headed... more sex... more toys... more sensuality... some more pics (HNT again?)... more links... updated blog format... paying respect to other sex-bloggers... public BETA version... perhaps...

A Long Pause

2007-01-19T16:03:00.000-05:00

I've been getting attached to our letters, yearning for another glimpse into who he is, but I think I'm beginning to accept that Beauty Eyes is pulling away from this. I never expected that he would last as long as he has, given his stated apprehension at the onset of our rekindled friendship. Each day I look forward to the possibility of receiving an email from him, and each day my hopes are eaten away bit by bit. I realize now, in his long absence, how very fond I have been of this reconnection that we established. It saddens me and frightens me at the same time.

It seems I think of him on a daily basis; that is, at least once in the day my mind meanders to thoughts of him or I am reminded of him by some random connection in my brain. When thoughts of his profession enter my head, I think of him. When hearing or reading about his city, I think of him. When thinking about my fun evenings out, I think of him. The image of his eyes, his lips, his face as a whole... that image is burnished into the tissues of my third eye. I have a recurring vision of my breast just barely grazing against his soft, luscious mouth -- the contrast of my hard, erect nipple brushing against his supple lip always evokes shivers rippling across my skin.

To feel so full of passion and yet stark raving hungry for it is unlike any other emotion I have ever felt. And I am devotedly addicted to it.

I should let Beauty Eyes slip away. He wants me to let him slip away. I know it in my core. And yet my spirit does not want to allow it. I want to feel the cling of his arms wrapped around my waist once more. I want to hear him whisper those sounds of pure ecstasy again. I want to smell his scent and feel him tug at my hair, putting my face at the perfect angle to receive his kiss.

I truly miss him.

tantric master

2007-01-16T18:30:00.000-05:00

Got this quiz a while back. Just getting around to publishing the results. Sorry I forgot who's blog I stole it from. If you know who you are, then feel free to say so! I'm pretty happy with my results. How about you?

More playing, more fun

2007-01-16T18:27:00.000-05:00

Life has been treating me quite well lately. I've been taking some time to catch up with friends I've been neglecting, and basically getting out of the house some more. This past weekend I had an absolute blast. Met up with an old friend (like from childhood times) whom I've always considered the brother I never had. We've since drifted and done our own thing, but the Fates brought our paths together one more time. It was a last hurrah before his taking flight to a faraway paradise, and boy was it some kinds of fun!

I haven't been clubbing in quite some time; H has been decidedly self-conscious about his age and so I never really pressed the issue. The few times I've asked to go out he's declined, so I stopped asking. This past weekend though, I went without him. He was completely fine with it because it was a childhood-friend thing, and so on and so forth. After a couple of drinks, I was loosey-goosey and all over the dance floor. It didn't help matters that my childhood Friend (F) was super touchy-feely. He was delighted that I made it out to chill with him and his boys. Little did he know that because I haven't been dancing in a long time, I was bursting to let it all out.

From the minute that I arrived at the club, I saw F standing there at the bar. I tapped him on the shoulder and as soon as he saw me, gave me a great big hug that was very nice to receive. Throughout the meet & greet with his group, he kept slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. I couldn't help but feel excitement and quite a bit of attraction toward him. (Mind you, he attended my wedding, and he's involved in a pretty serious, long term love affair of his own.)

On the dance floor, it was a whole other world. It's been many many years since I've been clubbing without my husband, or without a significant other for that matter. Normally, my super-sexy moves get focused solely on my H, and nobody else on the floor even comes close to us. Something about that loud beat and the feel of the sounds deep in my chest, down my spine and through the soles of my feet just really gets me going. Well, out there, I couldn't believe what was happening. I'm sure the girls who were out with us must have thought I was the biggest slut in the world, but I didn't care. I really couldn't give a shit.

My Friend, his friends, as well as random clubbers on the floor worked their way toward me throughout the night so they could get some grinding action, and with that music, that hot, sweaty environment gave me exactly what I needed. I must have danced with seven to ten different guys throughout the evening, hardcore dancing. Two in particular though stand out in my mind. One guy, very good looking, I just met that night as a friend of a friend of my Friend. We didn't really talk at all, but damn, out of nowhere I found him slipped up behind me, grinding against my ass. Whew! He was hot. The way his hips moved... mmm, mmm! He never used his hands, and kicking it up a notch, he would nuzzle against my neck without actually touching me. I expected at any moment that he would either kiss my neck deeply or full-on bite me. But neither of those things happened. Instead, he just kept on revving me up getting me hotter and hotter. Boy, that was fun.

The other was surprisingly, my Friend. He seemed somewhat shy through most of the dancing. I think he was trying to "be good", seeing as how his girlfriend was in another country and all. But eventually, he broke out of that shell. It first started with the playful type of dancing -- the kind you can just turn around and dance away from without giving or taking offense. All smiles and giggles. Good, decent fun. But by the third and fourth time around, you just can't take the sexiness anymore, and you just have to give in. That's when I felt his hands rest on my hips, and that's when my arm reached around the back of his thigh. That's when I felt that he was hard, and when we were grinding, I could feel his dick pressing up against me. That's when I turned around, our legs straddling each other's, and the rhythms took over. Enslaved to our bodies, we became passive as the legs, the hips, the groins just worked their magic together. We crossed a line. That line that flirts between sexy dancing and real dry grinding. Sex without fluids. Lengthy orgasm pumped through the body with ambient house beats enveloping. These are the telltale moments of what real sex would be like with that person. Fucking hot. That's what.

Whew. Damn did I have a good weekend.

relief

2007-01-10T05:10:00.000-05:00

he sent me reassurance. a wonderful text message that calmed my fears and soothed my apprehensions. the words he chose to send me worked wonders at leaving the door open between us. the reality of the situation does still resonate with me, but at least there is still hope that someday... something just may happen between us once more.

and yet, still he is so far away, in another city, a 4-hour train ride away from me. how could I possibly sneak away from my H to meet with Beauty Eyes in his big, big city? no, I think that will never happen. this will surely have to be a home-town love affair. perhaps the next time he is home to visit, I will travel the hour to meet him in places familiar to us, places that carry us away from our everyday lives. so long as I can feel his gaze upon my lips one more time... I shall be pleased.

troubled

2007-01-09T18:11:00.000-05:00

what's troubling about affairs is the inherent limitations set forth on the romance of it all. for instance, Beauty Eyes... I've said before that becoming entangled with him would be dangerous for me because there is a distinct possibility that I could fall head over heels for him. and I do believe he could just as easily fall for me. to continue any kind of affair with him would demand that there be an element of romance between us. it's unstoppable and undeniable. the kind of romance that dreams are made of. the kind of romance that I have with H.

I realized today while gazing into my H's eyes that it would be a grave injustice to Beauty Eyes to even put him in that position. knowing what I know, knowing my limits, knowing that the sort of passion we experienced together speaks toward what kind of love affair we would indeed have, it would be amiss for me to say haphazardly that he should allow himself to get involved with me. unlike B, my Buddy who's using me for that booty call as equally as I use him, Beauty Eyes is so much more tender. our connection is so much more tender. how could I in good conscience seduce him, knowing full well that my presence in his life could hold him back from finding the type of lifelong partnership and romance that I have with my H?

on the same note, seduction does not travel in only one direction. we both play just as much of a role as the other in the matter of approaching and allowing the sexual energy to grow between us. we both eye-flirted during the course of our interactions with one another. we both coyly teased one another throughout the evening. so I do not feel so terribly responsible for luring him into my web of naughty secrets.

new love

2007-01-07T22:42:00.000-05:00

I just read through some of the emails that I saved from a couple years ago that H had written to me. I was brought to tears by that initial flurry of inspired love -- the kind that brought forth such divine creativity, interconnectedness and pure love. As I browsed the emails that he's sent to me since then, there's a certain lack of effluence to the later emails. In fact, the majority of those emails are purely business. Brief, to the point. Mostly forwards with no notes attached even. I understand his use of email is generally limited to business work, but having read through those earlier testaments... it makes me rather sad. I feel a loss of sorts.

Sometimes, in his deeply tired state, he asks me "why are you so sad sometimes?" I fear the answer to this question, so I've never answered it honestly. Merely brushing aside his sleepy meandering inquisitions, I allow him to fall asleep to a hushed comforting voice. Really, those types of questions should only be asked during solitary introspection. What they do reveal are insights that must be properly managed, with care and precision.

My marriage has grown immensely; our love for one another has in fact transformed, much to the better. However, I do miss those early days of new love...

his first response

2007-01-02T20:39:00.000-05:00

he wrote me back. i emailed him one day after we rekindled that almost-forgotten spark we had for one another. and he wrote me back. my perceptiveness to his emotions was on point. he followed through with exactly what I had hoped for: a response with kindness, receptiveness and a healthy dose of reality. he says he's struggling to come to terms with what happened. feels his actions lacked the respect that both I and my H deserve. his own moral qualms. can I console that? do I have the capacity to calm that tension inside of him? i'm not quite sure.

i keep thinking about how intimate we were. beyond sex-as-recreation. we both opened up and shared something profound together. i've only felt that way twice out of all the lovers i've ever had. one man being my first true love, the one I lost my virginity to. the other man being my H, who i am currently married to. this presents a thorny challenge in my clean architecture of pursuing a lust and love-filled life.

my commitment to H has always been on the level of transcendent love and beauty. of all my transgressions, I've never felt any danger that i was trespassing on this territory. that is, until now.

there's something about every first kiss that I've found: it either dictates or reflects the relationship I have with that person. for every truly memorable first kiss I've had, I can see a real correlation between how much *click* and *pop* the kiss gave, and the resultant personal interactions.

the connection that Beauty Eyes and I shared in our first kiss was simply magical. now what?

Obsession and this man

2007-01-02T20:33:00.000-05:00

how do i fight the urges to keep checking my email? how do I ignore the pulsations that are reminders of what happened just yesterday early morning? how do i keep from imagining what he's doing now? How do I keep from going over the scenes, the clips of time memory that make up this flesh? how do i keep from re-reading what I've written about him? i can't. it's that simple.

even the sounds of this music move me, fill me with body- sensations that revolve around him. how can i stop those reverberations? i can't. it's impossible.

he said he thinks he's always trusted me.

do i question my instinct? could i be wrong about what he sees in me? could i be wrong about what i see in him? i've known him, but i don't really know him. he's always been somewhat of a mystery to me. over ten years, i've known him. but i don't know what drives him, what makes him tick. though i know these are terrible things to want in an extra-marital affair, i want them from him. and yet i know i can't pursue a "R"elationship with him. with all the others, sex was just sex. there was no way i could fall in love with any of them. but with him... there is a distinct possibility... a part of me hopes that he puts this past him, ignores me, or in an adult-type way can express his joy and yet still communicate that it just can't work. that he can't do it. because i fear that i wouldn't have the strength to say no. i fear that i am standing at the edge of an abyss, and at any moment i could slip away and the world as i know it flies out of my grasp. this is what he does to me.

should i dash his hopes? that i would never leave my H.

and yet still, i yearn for an iota of a response to my letter. i fear i shall be disappointed.

Coming Home Celebration

2006-12-28T15:46:00.000-05:00

I was surrounded by a few familiar faces, and some new ones I didn't quite recognize. Shuffling around, a bit unsure of how the evening would go, I walked away from the bar with my favorite comfort brew, ready to dive into socializing and what conversation comes with it. I was just about to sit down, and then I saw him -- those absolutely beautiful eyes, full and sensuous lips and curly black hair in all his glory. We locked eyes and immediately I was reminded of years ago, when I would pine as a young lady for even a glimmer of attention from this boy. Now, the boy has grown into a gorgeous man with a rock-hard dick and enough guts to approach me, hold me, kiss me. Me, a now-married woman.

Throughout the evening, we mingled, in the proper fashion. That is, rotations were made through the crowds of people who had gathered together from numerous geographic locales, back home for the holidays. Catching up on news of family, spouses, children... chit chat. It was great. Wonderful conversation was had. Delicious food and drink made everyone merry.

Toward the end of the night before closing time, the group of gentlemen who were entertaining me (friends from highschool, mind you) decided they were ready to leave -- to hit the local stripclub. Naturally, I vocalized my own desire to go with them, on the condition that Beauty Eyes accompany us. He agreed, and so we went. In the back seat, I squeezed into the middle seat between him and another friend, and off we went. The club itself was just I had imagined strip clubs should be. Red velvet rockers, a center stage with poles going all the way up to the 2nd story ceiling, tables surrounding the raised dance floor. Oh and of course, naked chicks shaking their tits.

There I was, at a strip club, attended by five men. I saw all sorts of pussy. Surreal was part of the feeling, drunk was another. These men, three of whom were old friends, two others -- complete strangers. And I was having the time of my life. They paid for me to enjoy a lap-dance. Amazing fun. An innocent lap-dance, but fun nonetheless. And she groped my tits. Yeah, that was nice.

------------------------------------------------

"So, you're married?" Snippets in chronology come to me in scattered sounds, images, the smell of his skin and hair, the taste of his lips, the pressure of his tongue. At one point, we were sitting next to each other and I can not recall a single thing we talked about -- just one glorious extended moment in time, swimming in his beautiful eyes. His face balanced inches away from mine; our breath dancing those intimate steps of suspension-between-inhalations.

I'm not sure how it began exactly... the playfulness of our fingertips were aware of their games long before either of us became cognizant of what was happening. "Do you feel guilty?" How can I find room for such an emotion when my body is overflowing with desire and passion? The passion is real and every cell that comprises my being is thrilled to be awakened.

I could see that he was seeing demons as he leaned his head against the backrest of my car. What is wrong, what is right, I challenge my own sense of morality and bring it to the fore in others. Our bodies fit snug against one another. He says he seems to always somehow get himself into impossible situations.

Earlier during dinner, there was a brief pause when all dinner conversation seemed to ebb out of my consciousness, receding to the background and what came into focus was him -- his face, his lips, his eyes. He didn't look away, nor was he one bit agitated. We stared like that for a good bit of time, and suddenly that smile of mine -- the one that creeps up from the center of my sexual being -- radiated, like a moonbeam, from me to him. His reception was unambiguous. I knew at that moment that something larger than a shared history of kinsmanship was dancing between us.

----------------------------------------------------------------

waves overtaking me. I see your mouth adorning my body, electric shocks emanating throughout my limbs. lingering touch, your ghost kisses repeatedly taunting me as I quietly receive these physical manifestations of these precious memories. your slender fingers rasp against my skin, and that tight grip on my hair guides me to do your bidding. the force of your kiss, your tongue between my ever-awaiting lips, drives me into a passionate fury that rushes the hours past. our bodies moving synchronously and your hand moves near my mouth. a finger finds its way to my lips, and there is nothing I want more than to take you into my mouth. teasing with every lick, you watch as I slowly allow another tiny bit of skin slip past my lips, entering into that warm darkness. your flesh is sweet to me.

flash. your tongue is teasing my nipple. watching you give me pleasure sends me over the brink of fantasy and here you are. and here we are. undeniably, the forceful nature of our passions create an incredible field of sensuality that surrounds our bodies infinitely. yours are whispered words that flow gently past me, the sound of your voice incredibly humble and generous. your lips are magnificent. our kisses, a prolonged exploration of the topography of our bodies. I hear my voice warning an echo that bounces around in my head, "be careful with this one. you're making love right now, even without penetration. this is a dangerous place to be."

I can not stop. our hunger for each other is massive. our bodies move without conscious critique. we are in a place of beauty, and I can not stop. I must go. I do not want to stop, but I must go.

I have the feeling I have overwhelmed him. I fear he will force himself to forget any connection that we made. I fear that the treacherous waters of my adulterous reality present too much conflict for his harmonious, dedicated and honest life. But the beauty we create together is absolutely undeniable.

to be tagged.

2006-12-18T19:13:00.000-05:00

I was recently very flattered to have been tagged for the first time in my bloglife! (Thanks Melanie, for thinking of me!) What's funny is, only two days ago, I read Melanie's tagging post that she wrote for herself, and quickly read over the links to the blogs she tagged. I recognized all of them except "hot anon chick", and didn't click on any of the links. Little did I know that reference was to me! Now I'm blushing.

I haven't much time to write the wierd/wicked things about me right now, but I'm brewing up a post in my head... I shall be away for the next week and a half, but I should be back at 'em with the new year. And with that, Happy Holidays to all, and to all a sweet, sexy night!

Waking up

2006-12-17T01:16:00.000-05:00

Two days ago, I fell asleep echoing into slumber, "I am going to stop avoiding myself". I made a decision. I am going to give myself the permission to continue on my path once more. It is too tiring attempting to go against the grain of my energy. To resist one's own nature is to deny one's existence.

Yesterday it was as if the sun peeked out and directed its rays straight on me. I felt warm again. I felt embraceable again. Without missing a beat, the men who once inhabited my world fell right back into it, marched back into my life. They called after me. They sent me lures, pulling me back toward them. They gave me that sunshine all over again. Time has a way of being. Just being. And as such, it does no right, and commits no foul. We linger through it, hoping to accept that same massive harmony, hoping that in some way by living in it, we can absorb a tiny bit of that self-acceptance and thereby understand how to exist, by just being.

I have halted the inertia of what draws out my personal beauty. I have laid a hand in order to guide my path, toward some unknown goal that I believed to be right. I had dressed my face with side-blinders, in order to achieve a type of success that I thought would lead me in a righteous direction. I kept my head bent, eyes focused on the road just ahead of my toes, unaware that in the process of my own discipline, I had spun around, and was merely pivoting around my heels.

I thrive on creativity. I am nourished by it. I am not whole without it. Creativity and passion are one and the same. And what comes with that passion, from that passion, behind that passion, is a force undeniably rooted in my sexual energy. By avoiding that solid connection to the earth, I had successfully severed my bloodline. Hopelessly following someone else's path, I had lost the path I was carving. This is not me.

Today, an accidental happening occurred. Unwittingly, I dialed an old friend's number. Wrong number. Yet, in reality, how very right it was to have heard his voice on the line. He, and all his bountiful, wondrous poetry of love. I sometimes believe he is my guiding star. That momentary collapse of our energy-bodies was something of a miracle. When we were in the same room together, it was as though the force of our passions was too much for a room to handle, forcing the walls to buck and quake. As though when we shared breath, what came out was pure white light. Together, we multiplied existence. This friend was a man who elicited the greatest out of me. In his eyes I could see vast proportions of potential. His potential. My potential. The world's potential. In our shared electricity, I understood beauty.

These, and others, are the types of signals I had forgotten how to receive. In my furious attempt at holding on to something precious, I had squeezed the beauty out of it. I held onto it so hard that when I opened my hand to see it, it had transformed into something other than what I had remembered. I forgot to let it be. And I realize this is how I must be. The squeezing has begun to make me sick. And I must let life be. I can not attempt to hold on to something I can not own. That something that I can not own... is my husband's acceptance of who I am.

I can feel my heart beginning to warm again.

do I want to be single again?

2006-12-12T19:51:00.000-05:00

No, but I would like to feel single again. I miss the quiet evenings to myself. I miss not having to feel obligated to "check in" with anyone. I miss the simple detached lifestyle with little to no personal responsibilities to or for anyone. During my darkest, most distanced self, I feel as though I could be that woman from The Hours played by Julianne Moore. The woman who tried to be the wife that everyone else is, who tried to be the mother that everyone else is, who failed miserably at all elements of being that wife, that mother, who failed and was brought to momentous tears during the simple act of baking a cake. During these moments, brief as they are, I can superimpose myself into this tragic situation where I make the wrong choices to please my husband, sacrificing my entire being by doing so. I can see the passion draining away with every minute spent fulfilling such roles. Yes, at times I can have a flair for the dramatic. I kid, but in there is a truth set so deep that when I am facing the darkness of my hidden self, I embody this truth wholeheartedly.

The fact of the matter is that I give of myself rather generously. And just as when I am speeding down the road, the heavy foot gets heavier and before I fully realize it, I'm going at a pace that is realistically unsustainable. My generous acts of giving have turned into something rote, something expected, something of a norm. And then I must keep pace because my perfectionist self demands it, rather than face the reality of falling short. So then what once were free gestures of giving, have turned into obligation, unwanted heavy burden, perceived as stolen sacrifice.

Perceived, I say. Temporarily. This is the silent-side me that desires, that wants, that yearns to take anything I can. This is the silent-side me that wants my own bedroom, that wants my own secret garden, my own hidden apartment, that fights against all the things that come with marriage.

No, I don't want to be single again. And I could list all the reasons why I'm absolutely passionately in love with my husband, but I won't. I just want to feel single again.

updating ramblings

2006-12-06T15:15:00.000-05:00

Nightside Jonny gave a semi-shout-out (more a note of concern) about our little circle of bloggers hitting somewhat of a cold streak. Some bloggers dropping off, others (such as myself) hitting some lows, etc. Well, I'd like to explain more about what I'm going through, so as to not come off entirely as utterly depressed. Because in reality, I'm not. I'm in avoidance mode. See, my life has always been afflicted with cycles. Time goes round and comes back again hitting me with reflective images that seem warped, yet for the most part haven't changed. Friend-visits ebb and flow and I'm struck at how often these visits time themselves in such a way that I'm hit by them all at once. So when you're hit by friend-visits with whom you've been mischievous, with whom you've done naughty things... especially after a period of time that you've intentionally put yourself in a state of mind to not be mischeivous, well then suddenly life is a cacophany of disruptive, non-harmonious emotions.

My marriage with H has been rather steady. There isn't much dissonance, and when we do bicker or fight, it's usually a result of personal stress or lack of energy. He is a part of me, and I of him. Sometimes unfortunately, because of this, he is highly responsive to my bouts of emotional distancing. Lately, I have been pulling away emotionally, in an attempt to steal personal time for myself, rather unsuccessfully. In the midst of this out-of-syncedness, I have had a few reminders of what mischief I was into before the autum had dropped all its leaves.

We've been out with The Couple a few more times now, and I'm convinced that my crush on both parties is only growing. I get the sense that they both *like* me on a personal, friendship level, and I feel rather close to the both of them. H is not so open to considering them as "close friends" because of some strange personality quirks, and my guess is it would be totally out of the question to get involved any more than we already are. So, I get to tuck away all that sexual tension and only let it seep out when we do hang out together, as visuals that I get in the middle of conversation. Often the fantasies deal with touching and kissing -- the Wife has all these cute little freckles all over her neck that I'd absolutely love to nibble on. The attraction with the Husband comes as "connections" we make, on humor, on music, on mostly intellectual grounds, but then there's those accidental leg caresses that happen under the table. Is he aware of them? I really don't know, but I know I like it.

Last week, I attended a company holiday party, whereby I was shocked at the little butterflies I felt upon seeing M. After his transfer to a different department, I relegated myself to never seeing him again. And there he was, dressed nicely, freshly shaven, with that same face I loved to look at. Damn, the images came as a torrent throughout my body. I remembered, felt the shudders flow through me as I felt his hand once again pushing down on my back, making me arch my body as he held my hips, pushing and guiding me to do his bidding (all completely clothed). After a bit of time, I built up the nerve to go say hello. I too was dressed quite nicely, as opposed to the casual attire my co-workers are accustomed to seeing me in. It was heaven to smell him again. He told me he lost my phone number. He said he's been wanting to call me. Inside, I'm thinking "lies. it's all lies" but at the same time, it was nice to hear that he'd thought of me. So I gave my number to him one more time. Will he call? Doubtful. But it sure was nice flirting with him once more. And yes, I still hold a candle for him.

Days ago, I received an email from B. He was concerned about me because we hadn't spoken or communicated in quite a bit of time. He told me that he really enjoyed our summer/fall times spent together. He told me how wonderful I am. And how he misses me. I remembered his very thick cock and how tight I was, and how amazing he felt. I remembered our various sessions together, at the hotel, on the desk, in an abandoned building (on someone else's desk). Yes, the sex was great. We're definitely steaming together, for sure. I said I wanted to see him again for coffee, but right now's just not the time. Maybe after the new year... Will I make the conscious decision to do or not do anything? I'm pretty damned tired of making conscious decisions.

Today out of nowhere, Mr. Smooth calls me up. He says he just passed me on the road. Mr. Smooth called me. That's a first. All the times I've spoken with him on the phone have been when I've called him. And ever since the last time, I decided I wasn't going to call him again. Why? His girlfriend picked up his phone. Talk about Damn! So I told myself it wasn't in the cards. And seeing as how he never called me, it was just too close for my comfort. And then as we're on the phone, he tells me that actually his girlfriend is there, driving him around town (he's still healing from the accident). All I have to say is they must have some kind of an amazing relationship, or he's just really good at explaining himself to her.

On top of all that, the holiday party was simply fun. Great interactions with people I haven't had the opportunity to speak with in such a relaxed setting, and the comments at work afterward were even better! Let's just say it was quite the ego-boost to be told how beautiful you are by all sorts of people.

I have had a few moments of jealousy pop up too... both times involved dancing. My H really likes to dance. Under normal circumstances, so do I. Together, we make quite the dancing team, especially when we're drunk. Twice in the past month or so, I've declined dancing with H, and he's turned to other ladies to be his dance partner at the time. No biggie. I was happy for it, so he'd stop bothering me about it. But I did feel that twinge of jealousy. And when I thought about it some more, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't the kind of jealousy that deals with competition or worry about him cheating on me. It was the fact that I couldn't have my fun on the side... and I did it all to myself.

Infinite asks, "what can't you deal without more? H or self?" I'm not quite sure I can answer that question fully. H is my world. To imagine a future without him seems bleak, fragmented, and completely unreal. He makes me enjoy living so much, and given the choice, I choose to have him in my life. I choose this daily. And self, well everything is constantly changing, including this self. My desires may be strong, and my will may be stronger, but self? How can I disassemble any of the parts and still remain a full self? Going along like this, pretending to be this woman, who is absolutely fulfilled with life as it is... it is like living with a partially disassembled internal organ. I can do it. It is possible. Is it healthy? Absolutely not. It is making me sicker with each day that passes.

So, the state that I'm in is... contemplative. Weighing factors in my mind, not making any decisions... just letting things be for now. In all honesty, I'd rather just act without any decisions on any matters. And deal with the consequences as they arise. All this anguish just isn't worth it for a person who doesn't feel morally tethered by anything.

You try to ignore

2006-12-03T13:43:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you try to deny. Sometimes you try to ignore. Sometimes you change yourself for admirable reasons and all the denying and all the ignoring just backs up in a pile of tar and soot and then you have nothing else left but to stare into your own dark empty lies. (The lies of telling myself that I can be a good wife. The lies of trying to convince myself that I can stop being who I am.)

Here is the truth: the less I do (cheat, lie, etc.), the more willing I am to tell H how I feel about all this. About my outside attractions. About my us-secrets, that is, about that feeling of being stifled. About my desires for that which I know is so unattainable. I feel close to the edge of ripping open barely-healed scars between us in his very vulnerable places. I feel as though I'm lashing out against an invisible shield, a barrier that's meant to protect us, that I erected for our own stability.

So, sometimes I try to deny. I try to ignore my blood-red desires to make men feel their pulse. I try not to harness that intense energy by lowering my eyes, smiling just a little bit less, acting less the confident woman, more as a chummy man. I try to become more socially awkward, to conceal my prowess as the social elite butterfly who loves meeting new people, who loves large groups of people, who devours intimate 1-on-1 conversations, who's fearless about going to parties stag.

But how long can you ignore such integral parts of who you are without it seeping through, in the built-up little tensions that trickle out when you're least aware, when you're least in control, when you're tired and hungry, and all refinement has dissipated from your grasp? So inevitably, once you've decided to play by the rules, it turns out that resentment slowly builds up behind that soft, gentle skin, turning the once-warm embrace into a distant stony reception.

It is the distance that hurts the most.

For a while I had even forgotten why I strayed the way I did. My actions merely seemed silly, trifling and not at all significant. It seemed almost as though it was "just a phase" that I went through -- that it was something I had moved beyond. The men who I allowed to touch me were men who I knew I would never come close to falling in love with. I lived these past couple months with H in total abstinence of adultery. And things were just fine. Sure, I had changed, in that I now recognize seeds of sexuality much more readily than before. And I am much more aware of the consequences of my own actions; I'll easily take responsibility for what I do.

But what has changed in our relationship is that a) my libido has slowed down to almost a halt, b) I'm much more pissy these days, c) I catch myself saying things to H that hauntingly reveal my need to feel less weighed down by his attachment to me, and d) a general sense of being dismissive washes over me all too often. These are signs of something, and I hesitate to define it as unhappiness or depression, but I know it comes from a sadness emerging.

I'm struggling these days.

Time-Mongering as Contraception

2006-11-21T15:59:00.000-05:00

One of my visitors here, at Anonyma's place, runs a website on lying and deception. There are many articles well-written about the why's and how's of cheaters and liars within the bounds of relationships. Much of the information is geared toward the cuckolded spouse, but there is also a lot about the psychologies of both parties involved in said acts of deception. If read with an open mind, I think anyone can gain from their insights. Along with these articles are numerous checklists, "how to catch" type quizzes, and other such "quickies" that capture the short-of-attention-spanned web surfers. In one of these checklists, I found the "how" type answers of what to look out for (if you're the suspicious cuckolded), or "does this sound familiar?" (if you're the guilty cheater). One of these how's happens to be Opportunity. I'm finding that this aspect seems to be the biggest one on my list of how did any of this happen to be? Without the time-opportunity, it's virtually impossible for me to stray from my partner. And he has such a strong grasp of my "free time" that I rarely even have the opportunity to write on this blog or read up on my favorite blogs out there. Was this his strategy all along? The "short leash" really does work. Only, the key to it is starting off like that from the beginning. That way, if I start tugging on the leash, it's suddenly something I'm doing that's different, rather than his act of being more controlling or something... and as far as reciprocity goes, his leash is always slack. It doesn't matter how much tether I give, he always needs less distance than I do. Strange how these things work...

My "bad" dreams

2006-11-13T17:44:00.000-05:00

I've shared a few "bad" dreams with him, and his response is always "why do you keep having these terrible dreams about us? do you want to leave me? Is that why you keep having these dreams?" And I tell him no, please don't even say that because it hurts me to hear you say these things. And I really do hurt to hear that, to even think that.

My dream of him not loving me anymore... i woke up crying into my pillow. I could not bear him leaving me. I truly and honestly do not want our marriage to fall apart.

I know where these dreams come from. I know that there is this heavy burden that weighs on my shoulders. And it is not that I have cheated. It is not that I have kissed other men. It is not that I have had sex with a man other than he. It is that this part of my personality is real, and that I must hide that from him. It is that I am constantly fighting my other persona, in order to live this marriage like it is supposed to be. It is that I am faking/hiding a part of who I am to keep him content, satisfied and happy.

No, I really and truly do not want to leave you. But I would really love to tell you the truth. I would love to ask you to open our marriage. I would love to ask your hand in allowing me to give myself to whomever I choose, knowing that you and I would remain together always. I would love to know that all this would be okay with you. And I would love to know that your security would not falter throughout it. Or at least that you are willing to try.

I feel like a woman who must hide the fact that she is a lesbian from her husband and from her family. A woman who can not pursue a lifestyle she feels built for, because of the fear of hurting those she loves dearly. And for fear of losing those very same people... because their lifestyle is not properly suited for her's. So the sacrifice is made. The daily sacrifices that are consumed, digested, forgotten, only to be reminded in dreams... bad dreams that make him sad and insecure...

Test: A Dangerous Endeavor?

2006-11-09T20:56:00.000-05:00

I've recently been messing around with my computer again... you'd think that a dedicated blogger like myself would be on top of the technology on this wonderful little machine, but no, I've been letting the waste accrue on my virtual desktop for the past few months.

Today, I'm experimenting with a dangerous thing... a built-in blog tool on my web browser. On the one hand, it is much more convenient to compose using this nifty application. What's scary is the increased chance of my H finding a digital trail that leads to this arena of deceit.

So, this is a test... will I continue using this method? I don't know...

EDIT 11/16: So I've decided not to use the built-in web-browser blog editor. It's just way too easy to discover, despite the fact that H & I have separate computers. He generally doesn't use my computer, but still, I just don't want to get too complacent. I have found another shortcut though, on a lockable program that's impossible to get to unless you know my password, which he doesn't know. If he asks why I have it locked, I'll just ask why was he looking? That'll work.

Innocence, Freedom & Compassion

2006-11-02T18:58:00.000-05:00

(a meandering, serpentine thought process...)

What's getting more difficult as I become more self-aware is dealing with the ability to turn off and turn on my charms. This is making me nervous, self-critical and gunshy. What got me into this whole mess was my very open smile -- the icebreaker that everyone loves. I smile, and you just feel good about yourself. I smile, and it becomes a beautiful day. I smile, and suddenly I'm the approachable girl, the friendly sweet lady who everyone can talk to. I smile, and it's open season for flirting.

But really, this is just me. My naturally open candor of kindness. It used to be that I could treat everyone this way, for it was an innocent thing. Despite my welcoming smile, men respected the assumed limits that though I am approachable, I am afterall, another man's wife. And it wasn't just their assumptions. I assumed the boundary as well. This is a social courtesy, right? So with assumptions in place, there is a freedom involved that allows for a virtual dismantling of those boundaries with no cares. Because we are innocent, guileless and truly can do no harm.

Now that I have embraced my sins however, I find that I am perpetually questioning my own motives. Because I now realize that I can and do have motives that can be hidden, that can be revealed, that can be played with. This newly discovered personality trait is one that creates an undercurrent of ambivalence, one that feels somewhat manipulative. I am now aware that when I smile, it arouses a feeling in a man that perhaps, maybe? And with this knowledge, I feel a responsibility to deal with this interpersonal intimacy. I must reflect on my actions and I must tailor them specific to my desires and how they relate to the individual with whom I am interacting.

True compassion is derived from this loss of innocence.

That cliched remark about bliss has deeper definition than the shallow reflection on ignorance. Bliss can easily be identified with the type of joy that reverberates deep into your being, so deep that it touches on that buried germ so long forgotten but in itself still remembers innocence. Compassion can only surface upon awareness of suffering -- the fact that suffering exists, no matter its victim. Some may become aware of it through direct experience, whereas others may perceive it externally, via another's traumas. It is through these experiences that an aware person comprehends the extent of pain and thus can escalate that understanding to a level that incorporates and embraces others.

Where an Innocent's actions may or may not have an effect on another being, it is the Innocent's unawareness that acts as a barrier, halting true intimacy with that other person. Thus, the loss of innocence leads to deeper awareness, which in turn creates intimacy, thereby leading to a greater sense of responsibility. Follow? Not so sure I'm following myself...

The point is, now that I'm aware of my wily ways, I sinuously situate sexual desire, provocative gestures and seductive side-glances into moments of otherwise harmless flirtations... and sometimes these sultry habits pop out when I don't expect them -- sometimes when I don't want them. And by limiting these behaviors (in an effort to control them), I am painfully aware of my loss of innocence. I am aware of my effect on others, and I am forced to contain it when necessary. So sometimes I don't smile, even though I may be bursting inside with the desire to. Whereas before I decided to stray, I doubted (if not in a state of denial) that my actions could possibly evoke such feelings in others, and so had the freedom to flirt however I wished. This state is no more.

Herein lies the irony that plagues us who choose to live in these dark shadows, chasing the momentary sparks of Bursting Life. That which brings this immense sense of freedom comes at such a cost. We are in fact slaves to our habits, slaves to our addictions. In that, we are not free at all.

By the Way...

2006-10-26T21:23:00.000-04:00

I still dream of getting doubly penetrated one day... just the image of fucking/riding another man while my husband's cock barely begins to press inside my asshole makes my tight little pussy twitch. And when these thoughts enter into my head while I'm masturbating, Whew! I almost always cum immediately.

Is it luck?

2006-10-25T11:17:00.000-04:00

Here's my extended response to Infinite's comment, "I wonder where you find the people you come across. Either you exude SEX and attract them, or you are simply one of the 'luckiest' people around.".

I've often thought that I must be absolutely one of the "luckiest" people around, on multiple fronts of life. Because there's no way that I could attract as deeply as it seems I do. Something an old friend once said to me, when we were attempting to conjure single adjectives to describe ourselves (one of those strange yearbook exercises)... he found me to be Inspired. And it's true, people inspire me with all the beautiful and wonderfully human things they do. I get affected. I get "turned on", in ways that incorporate and transcend SEXuality.

Where do I find these people? I'm not really sure... they just seem to filter in and out of my life. As far as my personality goes, I've always felt a bit mischievous because there seems to be the Me that everybody sees and everybody talks to. But not very far beneath that working self lies the Anonyma-Me that yearns to express her earthly desires in provocative ways. Yet I'm thoroughly aware that there are many individuals who choose not to break through their working selves, who rather would not be provoked. On the rare occasions that I do come across someone who's camoflouged skin is as thin as my own, something happens and we find ourselves quickly peeling back that stifling layer, to get on with the real flesh of interaction.

So, though I may not necessarily exude SEX, (offline, I dress quite modestly, am openly friendly, but don't cross the lines, and have a "pretty" face, but not sexy-gorgeous) I may offer sides of myself to people I sense are open enough to receive me. And when they are touched by how inspiration takes hold of me, filling me with Life, I suppose they can do nothing but be suffused with Life alongside me. These are the people who stick around... these are the ones you read about here...

I've been told that I'm the type of lover and friend one never forgets. Though the happenings of life must go on, be they husbands, wives, children or careers, memories of me and the times shared with me live on ineffably. Perhaps it's lipservice. But that doesn't really concern me. The truth of the matter is that these individuals have made their impacts on me, and so I am grateful for the opportunities of experiencing and travelling through this very life in such a full and saturated manner.

Tadaa --- now you see me...

2006-10-24T22:21:00.000-04:00

Yikes! It's been a long time since I've written here... I feel... trepidation... shaky sensation in the knees, sort of like that first blush, that first touch, that first stroke of skin underneath the table... a little unsure of myself -- can I do it?

I also feel overwhelmed with a massive desire to get this train going again, but working against such brute force of inertia makes me wonder how this will turn.

I've been thinking a lot, dreaming a whole lot more, sexing only a little, but mostly I've been recovering from a highly titillating summer, pulling back the reigns, for what? I couldn't tell ya. But it happens every year. Maybe it's just a melatonin thing, or rather, a seratonin thing. Sensitivities & reactions to sunlight... I can't help but be passionately tied to my surrounding environment.

Here's a few thoughts/actions that have occurred of late:

Ever since M left my company, I've seen him twice -- completely by accident. The first time it was a total coincidence, and I was pleasantly surprised. I'm always shocked at my attraction to his facial features; though not considered classically beautiful, there's something there in his eyes, in the way his lips puff then curl, in his smooth/yet rough complexion, that entices me to keep looking at his face. I don't quite understand it myself. The second time was brief. Deep down inside I felt a tiny spark, as though it was my final opportunity for one last afternoon getaway, and yet, I chose to ignore the spark, go home and move on. I don't regret that decision... it seems I have most definitely moved beyond the realm of M. I did decide to call, and I did in fact leave a voice mail -- just a friendly 'hello' -- not expecting a return call. I'm perfectly satisfied with how things transpired between us; our casual flirtations, our heavier flirtations, our light touching, our heavy petting, our non-penetrating sex, etc. Aside from all that, I did consider us as buddies, so to leave that [friendship] line open is natural for me. And from here, it is out of my hands. Our brief non-affair affair is quickly fading from my visceral memory, but the latent out-of-body experience of all that I've gone through will be with me forever, I'm sure. I can deal with that.

Stumbled onto a new blog, Memoirs of a Cheater. Cyris writes all about her NY exploits, from leaving a painful relationship with an egotistical pretty boy to finding herself at a hot Swinger's party with her new step-brother (!rawr!). Still a relatively new blog with a few handfuls of entries. And how enticing those few posts are! She's a fantastic writer with a menacing sense of style. I'm definitely hooked to her story. She's even got my libido going again with her hot description(s) of that first swinger's party.

Spoke with Mr. Smooth. He's still rehabilitating those injuries, and should be back to work in a couple of months. I called him. He answered. We had a friendly colleague to colleague conversation. Neither of us mentioned our two trysts at the bar. I wanted to tell him that I enjoyed our time together, but things were going so smoothly with Mr. Smooth... I didn't want to stray off-course. A few nights I've found myself falling asleep to images of his hands on my legs, of kisses on my stomach, of licks in my ear. It's usually these times I have insanely crazy dreams filled with metaphor. I really don't know if I'd be ready to dive into that chaotic lifestyle again anytime soon. It just takes so much energy... time with Mr. Smooth is far away for now, so really, I don't have to think about it. Remembering images and fantasizing is good for now.

Oh, and what about sex? It has been happening... occasionally. When it does, it's wild. The last time we fucked I remember thinking afterward: am I going to write about this on the blog? I realized then how odd it is to write about the sex H & I share. Although this is anonymous, and although all the things I'd describe would be utterly sensuous, exciting and just plain sexy, it just feels like it would be... robotic, cold. There's no way I could give justice to what happens between us when we find ourselves wrapped together. It becomes another universe -- one that doesn't use words as a descriptive language, and so to describe it using this inferior method must come out as lacking.

Finishing up with our Swinging Experience has caused some writer's block anxiety. To be honest, the last part of the evening is somewhat of a letdown. Not much more fun stuff happened after Red joined us. We left the party, and I was feeling horny and tired, and I didn't get to have a taste of any pussy. I guess I've been deliberately avoiding writing that last bit because I didn't want to lie and make shit up, just to make a good story. Nobody came, nobody got jizzed on, and I didn't even get drunk. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time. But at these parties, I definitely don't reach orgasm, and I think few people actually do. With that said, I will share this with you: my favorite sex writing material is hands down, masturbation fantasies. That is, the ones I fantasize to while rubbing one out. They're truly off the wall, highly taboo, totally perverse and some people may find them really offensive. What do you think? Should I go for it? Should I put them in print here? It could get a little freaky around here...

Couple Trouble?

2006-10-10T21:04:00.000-04:00

It happened again. I felt the twinge of possibility upon hearing her message on my voicemail... an invitation... to go to the theater with them. The Couple. They heard H would be out of town, weren't sure if I'd be gone... if not, come see a movie, hang out, join them for a good time. Though she doesn't say it, I hear, through my distorted twisted mind, "just the three of us". I imagine getting drunk that night, going back to their place, being their 3rd person, their Other Woman to fulfill pent up fantasies. I fantasize about pleasing her and about fucking him -- an extended evening of play between all three of us. All these images in the brief seconds of registered thought following the comprehension of her message.

We've all gotten together a couple of times since I first began writing this post, and it's becoming clear to me that my sexual attraction for this couple just grows and grows. The husband (H's colleague), I find sexier and sexier, and the wife I find fun & sexy when she gets drunk. She has quite the reservations when sober, but explicitly frees up as the lubrication of alcohol sets in. Still I have not discussed this with my H, and still I don't plan on it. If he brings it up, I'll be open and honest about it, but until then, I think it best to leave it be.

Damn it's hard to leave it though when we get together and find ourselves in the midst of a modern-day Burlesque show, discovering that all four sets of our eyes are glued to the busty ladies of dance. And damn those tiny bars with their itsy bitsy bar tables that cram our legs together, and under the influence I can't help but stroke my legs against His and Hers "accidentally". And damn those brief moments of knowing eye contact when The Husband and I both find a crude sexual innuendo hilariously funny and appropriate but Really, we can't possibly keep laughing this late after the punchline, can we? Right? blush.

This would be the time to stop. I mean stop, dead in my tracks. Yet my overactive imagination gets the best of me and I fast-forward into numerous menage a trois, orgies, and even that terrible 1-on-1 affair with either or both of them. Self control? Where is that in fantasy?

Dreams & Morals

2006-10-04T19:22:00.000-04:00

I took a nap today after work. I was super exhausted and ended up sleeping a bit longer than I had intended -- long enough to have a rather freaky dream. H & I were throwing some sort of BBQ backyard party. There were enough people there to occupy our time away from one another. The doorbell rings and I answer the door to find M standing there with a huge smile on his face. I'm happy to see him, as I really thought I'd never see him ever again, but I'm also alarmed that he would dare to come to my house. He's carrying something behind his back -- I can't see what it is. I try to shoo him away, but he nudges past me, into the entryway of our home. He wants to be there at the party. He wants to meet my H. He says "It's alright. Look I brought something for us -- ". Then suddenly I feel cold wetness on my head as he places a wide-brimmed straw hat on each of our heads. Only, they're filled with kerosene, and he lights them both up. We walk into the backyard with burning hats upon our heads, and I must introduce H to M, as this man I used to work with. Then the dream shifts to another time, same place though. The party must be over, and I see M sitting in his car across the street from the house. Once again, I thought he was long gone. I sneak away from the house, knowing that H is still entertaining some friends inside. M tries to slink down into his seat, obviously talking on the phone with someone. I walk over to confront him and ask why he has come over to my home. He then hands me the phone and I'm speaking with another one of his lovers. She knows about me and we hit it off pretty well over the phone. She reveals to me how involved she and M are and tells me of the emotional strife they are going through, dealing with the affair, hiding it from his wife and dealing with the possibility that they are falling in love. She makes a few comments that hint at jealousy toward me. I feel pity for her. I feel superior to her, at her inability to stay nonchalant with M, at her weakness for falling for him. Then I walk to the corner and throw away the hats and other bits of "evidence" that I've accumulated that speak toward my infidelity. I come back to the car, and M & I are then sitting on a cold stone wall. We do kiss, but there is no spark -- in fact his lips are dry, cold and cracked. I'm left with the feeling that I'm positive it's over between us. The dream shifts again and H is in a full-on effort to uncover something. Someone gave him an anonymous tip. All of our friends are helping him dig up proof that someone has done something to him. They are dumping the trashcans, searching for something. I feel a twinge of fear that they will find what I have thrown away in the public garbage pail. But I see out of the corner of my eye that the trucks have already come and emptied them. M's presence throughout this stage of my dream is intermittent -- he's there behind me, as a shadow that floats in and out as the sun passes through the windows. One of our friends is now doing e-research, trying to find evidence on my computer. She's quite talented with her computer skills, and I worry that back-logs will reveal my dark secrets. I'm acutely aware of my fears, of losing H forever, and of being "outed" to my friends. I wake up.

Not much need of discussing the dream... it's all pretty damned blatant what's going on in my head.

---------------
Then, I came across this Blogthing:

Your World View

You are a happy, well-balanced person who likes people and is liked by others.
You question whether many conventional views on morality are valid under all circumstances.
You are essentially a content person.

Sometimes, you consider yourself a little superior.
You are moral by your own standards.
You believe that morality is what best suits the occasion.

What Is Your World View?

This is a very interesting test. I loved the narrative-style analysis, and the simple answers led to such an accurate result! Who can guess which answer was mine?

Crazy. Everything's all a little bit crazy.

A Slight Shift in Paradigm

2006-10-03T15:18:00.000-04:00

I've sensed my moods shifting as of late, and so have arrived upon some thoughts. Very recently it has come to my attention that M has left the company. (Let's say for reasons of his own Big-Ego issues.) I no longer see him everyday at work, and the permanence of his absense has actually made it pretty easy to get on with my day-to-day work. I don't at all feel as though my insides have been ripped out, and I don't think about him all day long anymore. I suppose I didn't realize how consumed I was with "getting another fix" of him, of when I could see him and of looking forward to our lunches together. Now I feel a bit calmer. Quieter, cooler, ready for autumn. I'm enjoying the company of my [other] colleagues moreso these days, and I'm more readily able to concentrate on (and enjoy) the actual work I do. That feels nice.

Seeing as how M was the main guy who got me started with this whole thing, I almost feel as though his leaving my life signifies closing the door to this adulterous lifestyle as well. He never called me outside of work and I don't imagine he'll try to keep in touch with me now that we don't work together anymore. (So there goes that major temptation in my life.) Mr. Smooth is still out from work due to his injuries, and won't be back until January or so. (So that temptation is gone.) B does not make booty-calls -- he leaves that up to me. (So that temptation is readily under control.) And that's about it. It seems this fire may have finally burned itself out.

Temporary is the very nature of these passionate energies.

To have had the pleasure of experiencing these emotions, these physical manifestations of Ultimate Desire, to have tested the limits of that which is forbidden... to have questioned deeply my motivations, my committments, my integrity... has given me choices that I can say for sure were made without regret. I don't look back with disdain, pain or remorse. Neither am I proud, or seek approval for what I have done. It just is.

Have I set my mind to not cheat? I'm not really sure. I think Infinite may be right about the possibility of me just going back to being the me that I was before all of this, as in: attraction outside of my marriage happening few and far between & just not feeling the desire to stray. Throughout all of this, I can say my love for H has remained steady, and our relationship has grown stronger than ever. I'm more aware of his needs, and am more readily willing to accomodate them. I've become more willing to compromise on issues and I've become more open to constructive communication with him. All of these things are very good progress. Were they due to or in direct result of my selfish actions to lead the hedonistic life I've been living? I really can't say for sure. I'm generally not one to assert any kind of causal relationship between events. Whatever the case, I'm pleased with how my life stands today.

Perhaps I have already decided where my personal limits lie. Perhaps I have decided that I've crossed those limits these past few months. And perhaps I have decided that jumping the fence does indeed bring excitement and passionate frenzy. However, much like any drug that affects the seratonin receptors, there are saturation limits, beyond which the body-mind-continuum stops responding with feelings of euphoria. Pushing on the boundaries brings forth this flood of elation, yet surpassing them seemingly takes all the fun away.

Additionally, seeing how these men, who dance with danger, eventually meet their fate because of their impulsive tendencies makes me question the extent of my attractions toward them. It's that very "ballsy" nature that on the one hand grabbed my attention initially, that also gets them pretty deep on the scale of trouble.

I can not affirmatively say that I will become what some may call a "recovering adulterer". My code of morality and ethic has little place for the definitive absolutism required to say that a) adultery is wrong, b) I suffer from this illness, and c) I must believe in a higher power to remedy this situation. So in conclusion, who the hell knows what I'll end up doing (or not doing). I have a feeling that this blog may evolve into a place for me to write about our continued sexual exploits, my taboo fantasies, masturbatory sessions, and other "Unspokens". Perhaps it will eventually include more extramarital attractions, perhaps not. Like I said, who the hell knows?

Quickie Thoughts

2006-09-26T18:47:00.000-04:00

What if?
What would happen if I set out in my mind to stop cheating on my husband? No more expressions of my attraction... no more sweet-smiles-turned-sly... no more sex with B... no more heavy flirtations with M... no more touching beyond what's considered "right"... no more inviting people I have any physical attraction for to drinks after work... What would happen to me? Would I really & truly shrivel up? Or would I still basically be me, just like before all this began? Sometimes I entertain this thought, but I've never actually said I would set my mind to it. So far, I have actually gone weeks, without veering from my husband, but it was always because of consequence. In the back of my mind, I'm still always looking for a time/method to get out and play. So what if I set out with the intent of compliance?

But then, what's the use of attempting a promise that you stopped feeling in your heart? If I do it from just a "let's see if I can do this..." type of mentality? Just to see? For some strange reason, that feels like even less integrity than the wishy-washy stuff I'm into now.

By the way...
This past week I've been catching up on blog posts, but some were written earlier and posted out of order. Anyway, check it out, in case you might have missed these:
9/20 - Sociosexuality
9/20 - M Drama

H's Mindreading Capacity

2006-09-25T21:22:00.000-04:00

I still get very surprised when H hits something right on the head that I KNOW I've never communicated outright. Humans are such a funny creature. I'm sure we emote subconscious thoughts & feelings, and I'm positive that when people are intimate enough they can pick up on others' non-verbal cues. Yet, everytime it happens, I'm shocked and in disbelief.

Example 1: Waaaay back when M basically attacked me in one of the "back rooms" at work, kissing me, fondling me and fingering me into a frenzy, H started up with the same kind of pussy play too. I swear it was only a week or so after that incident with M that H began fingering me like crazy. I've never mentioned anything about wanting to be fingered, and our sessions have always been pleasureable, (no need for complaints on this end) so it's just totally random that he would start that. Coincidence? Maybe.

Example 2: A couple weeks ago, when M & I started teasing each other sexually again (all in words & concepts), he told me about a fantasy he had during the course of the workday. He told me he had an image of me bending over in front of him and he was rubbing my thighs and my ass. I could tell he was turned on big time. Right when we were about to get up and leave, out of nowhere, he did it! He bent me right over, put me on all fours, and put his hands on the back of my thighs. His thumb reached between my legs, and his hands squeezed my ass cheeks. Then he put his hand around my waist and pressed down on the small of my back, pushing my body down toward the ground. He wanted my ass up in the air and my shoulders on the ground. He kept lifting my ass up and kept pushing my shoulders down. With every press, I was creaming my panties. It was so fucking hot! Here's the thing: one week after that happened, during one of our heavy sex sessions, H pressed my back forward so that my ass was pulled up, slamming back against his cock. He kept pressing on my back, and fucking me like crazy that way. I was out of my mind! I just couldn't believe it -- I got to fulfill a super hot fantasy about M with my H, and I wasn't even the one to initiate it!

It's all starting to get a little creepy. Am I just that transparent that my subconscious speaks through a megaphone? Or is my H in cahoots with M? Hmmm.... Boy that'd be nice.

To be Affected

2006-09-22T19:27:00.000-04:00

He talks of not wanting to be "bad", yet he doesn't want to be "good" either. He speaks and acts in wavering terms... he admits his wrongdoings in those younger days, but as he grows older, he feels these actions go beyond "cheating" and have transformed into something else completely. After time has elapsed, he speaks of loyalty... that those simple acts are no longer considered "cheating" but rather become complicated acts of Betrayal. Yet he expresses both verbally and physically, his desires for me. This is a heavy thing for him. And strange for me. Do I feel loyal to H? Loyal? What does it mean to be loyal? Faithful? True?

Someone quoted Shakespeare today:
"To thine own self be true/And it must follow, as the night the day,/Thou canst not then be false to any man."

Is it that I am being false to my husband, by concealing certain behaviors that I know would bring suffering to him? Is it being compassionate? Is it being false when a homosexual decides not to reveal to his homophobic father that he is highly attracted to other men, despite his own sincere affirmation of his own orientation? The love for his father still very well may exist. If a need for acceptance by the father is not present, then what reason would there be to challenge him?

Loyalty is a bond beyond reason, beyond explanation, beyond mere gratitude or obligation. Loyalty can not be demanded, it can only be offered. It is a self-generated emotion that gives rise to deeply intimate relationships, resulting in a type of social stability that creates an environment of comfort and leisure. In this profound sensibility, yes, I am loyal to my husband. To the grave, I am loyal to him. I firmly believe that.

Faithful? To have faith, is to entrust your entire being in some[one/thing] other than yourself. To give up all hold on ego, to dissipate your very essence and give freely all that which you believe to have a grip on. To place your every ounce in the hands of your lover, your spouse... is that being full of faith? There are moments that I get a taste of this. Moments of righteous love that I share with H, moments when we both know that we are eternally bonded to one another. For those moments I am utterly grateful. But I am honest enough to say that these glimpses cannot be sustained, are fleeting, temporary fluxes in the fabric of existence, for we are compelled to lead lives that demand the fracturing of our attentions.

What is my unease in regard to M? He is not firm, not resolute. His limits are grey and permeable. Like the physical nature defined by osmosis, his moods, his moral questionings, his mutable tempers seep through and affect me in ways unbeknownst to me. By the time I realize his impact, it is too late...

I am utterly intrigued.

M, and our never-ending drama

2006-09-20T20:39:00.000-04:00

For some reason, I just can't shake this desire I have for M as the object of my desire. I finally understand the idea that smokers have related to me in the past of "I know it's bad for me, but I like it. So I'm not going to stop. I don't even want to stop." I know that I should leave it all alone; I know that he needs to protect his happy home; I know that he would only be trouble as an affair partner. All the signs are there to just drop it, yet each day I go to work and look forward to seeing him, his eyes, his lips, seeing the bulge in his pants, hearing his voice, imagining the touch of his hands, and just thoroughly enjoy basking in his company. I love the easiness we have with one another at that floated level of getting along, and I love that tension of balancing on a precipice, on that lower, deeper level of intense physical attraction -- the quaking, vibrating earth just below my feet, ready to burst at any moment.

He taunts me by reeling in the line of sexual fantasy, sparking the fire that burns deep inside my ribcage. I find myself holding my breath, moments when I don't realize that I'm not breathing anymore, my body heats up and suddenly an outburst of exhalation. And this is what happens when I'm not near him.

The pressure is mounting steadily for me because I know that at any moment one of us will get transferred to a new location, and I really doubt that I will ever see him again.

The irony of this situation just kills me. The very man, audacious enough to introduce me to this pleasure-filled world of infidelity, denies my advances daily, advocating the virtuous path, yet teasing me along down the sidewinding trails skirting the dark forests. It's enough to drive a girl absolutely mad. We are addicted to each other, madly attracted to one another, and yet somehow it's not the sex, since we still have yet to consummate this torrid affair. It's not the sex, but the potential of it. It's the chill that runs down the nape of my neck, that settles in a pool of vibrating hairs down the center of my back. It's the non-touch contact of our imaginations that run together, wild and free -- but solely contained within our minds and our words. When the little touches do come, it's enough to boost my libido for weeks at a time.

But the reality of addiction is that withdrawl is a terrible terrible and so-very-imminent thing. To have become attached... leads to a death like no other. I carry a heavy sadness, lurking in the recesses, for when that day comes and I know our beautiful little thing will be gone forever. This strange sensation heightens the level of my desire to see him, to feel him, and to smell that wonderful sweetness of his skin.

I think for my sake, I may have to end this dance, in order to preserve what few limits I might actually have. Could I "fall" for this guy? If we just had sex and got it over with, probably not. But this extended cat-and-mouse play is the kind of torture I might just get a little too deep into. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell him I'm too weak to keep fighting these urges. That I will be implementing an out-of-sight out-of-mind rule, that I'll "just say no!" to temptation, that I'm finished with seducing, finished with being a temptress, finished with chasing and being chased... or is it finished with being chaste?

Who am I kidding? I love the games we play.

Sociosexuality (articles)

2006-09-20T19:54:00.000-04:00

At last, a bit of an academic perspective about this personality issue I have and why I seem to [so easily] accept more fluid boundaries about my sexuality (and why some others absolutely can NOT accept it). It seems there is a scale... one of many, attempting to describe sexuality, ever since Kinsey decided to start studying sex objectively (did anyone see the movie?). Anyway, this scale to which I'm referring is what's called "sociosexuality". It describes the comfort level and acceptance of this notion we know of as "casual sex". The two extremes of this scale are "restricted" and "unrestricted", defining the two polarities of individual values, limitations, and factors which go into the decisions that people make when entering into sexual situations.

When I read this article (HTML or PDF), it hit me like a big breath of relief. As though momentarily everything wasn't about ethics or morality anymore, and I could just breathe natural air. Real, natural air. There are a LOT of details in this article, and if you're not familiar with academic scientific studies, it may be difficult to get through. Even still, I HIGHLY suggest reading it, even if you just skip all the paragraphs with statistical mumbo-jumbo. Even just reading the introduction is very illuminating.

The article describes various characteristics about people who have certain tendencies. Briefly for example: comfort with uncommitted casual sex, premarital sex, multiple sexual partners, sex with or without romantic love, extramarital sex, etc.

It's funny, I've always tried to stay away from "labels" or "identifications", but on the two accounts of sexual orientation and sociosexual orientation, I've actually been relieved to feel some form of identification. Discussions of leading an ethical and good life surely will follow, as they always do. But for earthly centering, I feel balanced and whole with these perspectives on who I am and why I choose to do the things I do.

----------------------

If you're interested, here are some further discussions about sociosexuality:
1) a study on gender, and the differences of how an unrestricted sociosexual orientation affects men & women (HTML or PDF)
2) "A 48-Nation Study of Sex, Culture, and Strategies of Human Mating" (HTML or PDF)

Uh-Oh.

2006-09-18T18:46:00.000-04:00

This past weekend, I had a moment. A dangerously, supremely should-be-hands-off, bad!, very bad! moment. I felt an attraction for two people (simultaneously) who happen to be my & H's good friends, (one of whom being H's colleague), and who also happen to be married to one another. She has been a good friend of mine for a couple of years now, and they collectively are our couples-friends. I felt myself doing that thing that I do when I realize my sexual attraction for someone -- become very engaged in the conversation, inch closer to the person, creating an intimate bubble through eye-contact, sometimes gently touch him/her on the arm, hand, leg...

Yes, I was doing these things to both the husband and wife at various points throughout the evening. Everything is safe though, because I can chalk it up to being drunk. But inside of me, I know something is different. So now what? This is a situation where I must and will maintain my composure around them. There's just too much at stake to mess around there. But I can dream, and fantasize, and I'm sure I will. I wonder: will I ever tell H? It's just too strange -- right now, I wouldn't. He's too uncertain as it is about how able he is to deal with me & other men. So why the hell would I want to tell him about my attraction for his colleague? I know he wouldn't care about me fantasizing about the wife, but there's no real reason for me to bring any of this up with H at all.

It's funny because in other circumstances, they would be prime candidates for a swinging couple with whom to play. In fact she and I have had a couple of conversations about their experiences swinging, and I know they'd be up to it. Plus we all get along really well and have fun together. But seeing as there are two in the foursome who are colleagues and we have been friends for so long, it might just be really strange. For now, I can be satisfied with accepting that I have a crush on both of them. And I know sure as hell that I am not going to be the one making any kind of moves on either of them -- I'd happily and willfully reciprocate if anything ever came up, but I'm definitely not initiating anything. C'est la vie.

Swinging with H, Part II

2006-09-18T18:35:00.000-04:00

(cont'd from)

They had very nice bodies; he was tall, relatively muscular, very attractive facial features... she was lovely, lean & sexy. They laid down next to us and began kissing each other. Their bodies inches away, I could hear the flesh of their lips as they sucked and licked one another. She was a quiet moaner moderated by some squeaks, and he had a deeply thick and husky voice. H and I watched them out of the corners of our eyes, and our gentleman friend (G) stole some glances our way as well. H kissed my neck as we maneuvered to face them, and he played with my tits with his arm reaching around my body to reveal my extremely hard nipples. When G saw my tits, he said to his lady friend (L) "mmm... look at those big nipples!"

As H was fucking me from behind, I moved closer to the couple so that I could wrap my lips around her gorgeous tits. They felt so firm and supple in my hands. Every time I licked, she responded pleasingly with a whimper and a groan. G was a talker -- he told us how sexy we looked, how much he liked how my tits looked and felt, how hot we were. I felt G's hand reach over to caress my flesh... my thigh... my stomach... my tits. With my hands still exploring L's body, it felt great to touch and be touched by three different people all at once.

G's lips found my mouth and we kissed deeply while H was fucking me, and while G had his cock deep in his lady. He moaned into my mouth, and the mixture of sights and sounds was absolutely incredible. Eventually I ended up on top of H, riding him and giving him a nice titty show. I leaned in and we kissed, wrapped around one another for a very long time. It could have been just me and H, and I would have been none the wiser. Then I felt G's hand on my ass cheek rubbing and squeezing. His finger brushed against my asshole and I groaned with pleasure. He asked me if this was okay, and I chuckled out an "uh-huh!" So fucking good -- fucking my husband, riding him, grinding my clit against him, this strange man's fingers exploring my asshole, pushing in further with every pump of my hips. Fuck! It was great! I heard G say to L "I think she's a good candidate for DP!" Mmmm... if only he knew how very good a candidate I am...

We kept at this for a while, back and forth between H-only attention and making out with the other couple. Then, another couple asked to join the four of us -- a gorgeous, well-endowed redhead (R) and her partner...

(to be continued once more...)

Swinging with H, Part I

2006-09-04T10:39:00.000-04:00

The evening began with a slight bit of trepidation on both of our parts. I was visibly nervous beforehand, fidgeting and dropping things. I wasn't sure what to expect, how the evening would go, how our emotional states would pan out. I was worried for H, and curious at the same time, how he would explore other peoples' bodies, wondering if there would be any openness for MM play there for him to have fun with. Mostly, I was worried that H would feel threatened by my openly free embrace of my sexuality, of all others' sexuality, of me possibly "getting lost" again.

After a couple of drinks, we mellowed out a little, and I began noticing other couples teasing and fondling each other here and there. Even at a sex party, I felt my eyes divert away, trying not to notice, yet wanting to watch, wanting to see. I wore a "flirty" black skirt that showed off my legs, a black lacy tank top and a short-sleeved button up shirt (for modesty's sake). Topping off my outfit were my wonderfully sexy lace-up heels. Beneath the skirt, one of my favorite pair of Victoria's Secret, tiny V-String thongs. H & I had snacks and drinks on one of the many couches found throughout the venue, and after a short bit of time, he began caressing my legs.

For about 45 minutes we explored the club, with its many facets of livingroomesque decor, in addition to a dancefloor and the multiple imperial bedrooms upstairs. At each of these spots, we took a seat, had some drinks, touched and kissed each other and moved on. All of our clothes stayed on, but during some leg caressing, my skirt may have hitched up to well above my thigh. I was getting so hot and pleasantly moist knowing that there were others there who may have gotten a glimpse of my exposed flesh. I really enjoyed just making out with H, baptizing each and every bit of furniture we touched. In fact, there were some points when I felt somewhat guilty staying to ourselves so much.

Eventually we made our way to the dancefloor and that's when the endorphins really kicked in -- H & I always have a great time dancing together. At a place like this, we really get to break out and get downright raunchy. I'm a pretty talented dancer, so when some sexy music comes on, my hips, waist, ass and tits get to moving in ways I can't even necessarily control. I'm positive we were getting some looks, and I loved every minute of it.

H and I are somewhat on the shy side in large groups, so we kind of did our thing until others approached us. Though a few different couples got my attention, one couple in particular caught my eye the entire evening. They never approached us, and we never approached them for small talk, but the gentleman of the couple did bump into me a few times. We definitely eyed each other through smiles and stifled hellos, but I wasn't entirely sure that anything would happen. Throughout the night, I know I accidentally gave him "that look" (that S swears I was giving him at work -- what he calls "that seductive look"), and I tried to visually connect with the lady of the couple, but she seemed a bit out of it, somewhat loopy.

We decided to go back upstairs to where all the mattresses were laying and have a glimpse at what was happening. The swing, sofa and 3 out of 4 beds were occupied. I invited H to have a seat with me on the last available bed. He was a bit hesitant, but once we sat down and began kissing, I think his nerves let up a bit. He had his hand on my knee, sliding up my thigh, gently gliding up beneath my skirt, to my neatly trimmed pussy. It felt so good to feel his warm hands caressing the flesh of my thigh, exposing my skin to anyone who was there to see. My tits were aching to be touched, to be rubbed, to be kissed and sucked. I had my entire hand wrapped around H's cock -- through the fabric of his pants. We were kissing each other gingerly, each kiss an embrace of love and support for one another. Soon enough, our hunger for the other outgrew our tentative caresses. I remember wrapping my leg around his body, pulling him close to me, trying to grind into whatever would come close to rubbing against my mound -- his knee, his cock, his fist, his thigh, his hip. I pulled at my tank top, revealing my very needy tits. I wanted to shove them in his face, smother his mouth with my very hard nipples. (mmm... just writing all this is making my nipples push against the fabric of my bra...)

His dedicated hands remained inserted between my legs, and he began pushing a finger inside me. My wet lips easily parted for the pleasure I knew was about to come over me. With each thrust of his finger, I went crazy sucking on his tongue and his lips. I wanted every part of him inside me. I took his finger in deeper into my tight little cunt, I sucked his tongue deeper into my mouth, and wanted to pull all of him in more and more. That's when I saw them. The gentleman I'd been eyeing was standing there with his lady. I smiled at them. Then I whispered to my H, "they're here." It was perfect. Not a single "appropriate" introduction was made before that moment, and there they were -- the very couple we wanted to share this bed with...

(continued here)

Tides will Turn

2006-09-02T18:33:00.000-04:00

A big thank you to those who have dropped by and left comments that have been warm and supportive. There's a lot of change going on in my life right now, and with that, some expected emotional duress. I'm trying to find that balance where I can fully stand by the choices I make, and live with integrity. What does that mean? To me, it is a matter of staying open to all the possibilities of what may lie in the future. It means being available for self-examination, and not falling into a rut of "this is how it is and so this is how it remains". How does all this play out with my situation?

H & I attended our second swingers' party this weekend. Before we went, we talked about our fears and personal limitations (which didn't turn out to be very many, actually). H expressed his worry about being lost, or forgotten. During sex I have a tendancy of getting so very into the act, that everything else in the world just falls away. At our very first swingers' event, I suppose he wasn't quite prepared to see my blissful state at another man's hands. We agreed this time that I wouldn't forget about him. In the end, we had a blast. We had a very erotic, intimate and loving experience. (The description of the evening will follow as a separate post.)

After having these group sexual encounters, I've had a bit more perspective about what else it is that I get out of my infidelity. Because if it is just the notion of having sex with other men (& women, for that matter), then swinging should be enough, right? As it turns out, it's not just sex. It's everything else that leads up to it. It's the flirting, the apprehensions, the first touch, the first catch of scent, the agonizingly slow exploration of bodies, the seducing and the being seduced. At a swingers' party, none of these qualities are apparent. We all know that we're here for the same thing. There's drinking, dancing, and other types of socializing, but when you're on the beds, or on the sofas, it's basically "down and dirty". That's hot for sure in that utter freedom kind of way. But the feeling that was missing for me was that tingly excitement that's caught at the base of your throat, when you're holding back -- that sense of need to stay under control -- the build-up of heat that leads to an explosion of sheer ecstasy. There's an inherent contradiction here: so it is not pure freedom for which I yearn, for pure freedom, as given by my H, has lost the very quality that excites me. Perhaps Pure Freedom, in its strictest sense, is something that can not be given, for it is something that can not be held, attained, or protected.

still the darkness continues...

2006-08-31T19:12:00.000-04:00

Time is shifting and gravity tugs at my inner equillibrium. I feel shaken and rough-cut, like sawn lumber through the first pass of a mill. There sits a lump of unformed grief at the base of my throat -- that spot where the tongue meets the inside tract of the entryway to my bowels. I feel as though tragedy has hit me -- the despair of just learning about a newfound connection, only to be kept away because of real obstacles that are way beyond my control. The agony of being forced to withhold my need for comforting. It is a powerful influence, to feel utterly powerless over your state of emotional being. In all reality, I do not know him. We are but acquaintances who have merely stepped up to the line, peering over, leaning against the thicket of thorny roses that separate our individual universes, upon which plucking reveals a larger cosmos of which we are all a part. In reality, I am but a coworker, and I do not get the privilege of public mourning; true tragedy lies with his family, his inner sanctum of beloveds. I respect that.

His accident has been more than a temporary set-back; it has acted as a trigger that has sent me spinning into this unknown future of an unwelcome disorder. I just don't know.

I am not master-commander of this vessel. I don't know what shall reveal itself to me shortly. I am not expert seductress who gets all she wants, if only by asking. I am not woman of special guile, ready to weaken any man's knees with a simple flutter of the eyelash. Today, I am none of these things. Today, I just don't know.

If H was with me at this very moment, he would know that I am sad. He would ask me what was wrong. And I would say "I'm not really sure. I just feel a bit sad." And his compassionate eyes would wrap their loving selves around me and I would know -- his love for me is beyond that which I could ever live up to. I would know that he gives and gives all of his love to me. And I would know that I humbly accept that love. Humility is the awareness of one's individualism -- the pursuit of something just for Me, to the extent that it negatively affects some other part of life with Others. Humility is the ability to say "thank you for allowing me to bask in your being, despite the wrongs I have committed."

And yet, I know... throughout all this awareness, I will continue on this path I have carved through the forest of untamed desires. I know that I will continue this struggle with self and with lover, along the wide, empty desert stretch of lonely, selfish, determined exploration.

Sadness & Complications

2006-08-29T17:11:00.000-04:00

I feel heart-broken and I feel guilty. I found out at work yesterday that S was in a major accident last Thursday night. He's been in the hospital all weekend and probably won't be back to work in a very long time. I was with him Thursday, after work. We were drinking at a local happy hour. That was when we kissed and began expressing our attraction to one another. Now, come to find out he's been physically hurt, and in such a bad way... guilt for participating in a risky situation that might(?) have led to his accident. It all gets blurred -- the risk of an affair, the risk of drunkenness, the risk of living life on the edge. The accident was not his fault -- the other driver broke the law. And it happened many many hours after our intoxication together. Yet the emotions are intensely blurring together for me. And I can't even call him to see how he's doing. Though he gave me his cell#, the phone is currently in his girlfriend's possession, and turned off.

In the ideal situation emotions and physical passions can be divided. But it turns out I do care about his well-being. I do consider him a friend, and I care that his leg has compound fractures. I care that he'll be out of work, out of pay, and that between him and his girlfriend, they have three children to take care of. Damn it, I do care.

Thursday while we were drinking and talking, he said to me "damn girl, you're gonna mess my head all up." Is that what happens? Do my actions press on men, pushing them to cross the lines they'd otherwise happily hide behind? Is that what I'm doing? S never expressed his attraction to me until he realized I was "okay" with hearing it, until he realized I was flirting with him. And when I told him that I was [delightfully] surprised to find out his attraction for me, he replied that he never said anything to me about it because it's a "respect thing". Understandably. He is after all, a good man.

I wonder, will it *always* be up to me to decide yes or no as an answer about whether or not to pursue any particular affair? And, will the man's answer *always* be yes? Because seriously, I'm finding it more and more difficult to ever say 'no' first, if I feel the types of passion like I do with these men. It just seems like any men who express attraction have already made up their minds that they are willing to stray. All they need is the tiny nudge from me to keep it coming. Can this really be true? I know in the back of my head I probably do screen out potentional partners, but I think the main variables are, "he can't be single", "will he be able to keep this discreet?" and "is he 'cool' enough to remain detached?" I know there are certain other guidelines I should be maintaining, like a) he really shouldn't have any kids already, b) I shouldn't work with him, and c) I should keep them as far away from my town as possible. Yet, I don't follow these rules, do I?

I'm also finding it more and more difficult to determine "male friends" from "potential sex partners", and how to integrate the former into my life (and into H's awareness) without giving away the latter. I used to have so many male friends whom I never slept with, and never planned on sleeping with... that is, until H & I got married. I stopped hanging out with them (or they stopped hanging out with me) and now I guess I just don't know how to bring "male friends" back into my social life in an acceptable, non-threatening way.

Currently, I'm feeling a bit thrown. I mentioned before that a round of transfers is coming up at my job, and it has begun. Some of my work "buddies" have already been sent away, and now S will be gone for a while. The rest of my group are slowly disbanding, and my happy family at work is starting to fall apart. It's only a matter of time when I'll be tossed into the mix of new faces, starting all over. All good things must come to an end, eventually. Will my good thing with M end? Will the start of such a good thing with S end with this job? This is the taste of sadness that has creeped in with the end of summer; and, as with all other things, this too will pass.

Mr. Smooth, part II

2006-08-27T15:26:00.000-04:00

It seems I've started something again. Mr. Smooth was even more smooth than I had expected. We got together for drinks again and the sparks were flying. Our quiet flirtations at work have been building up, I guess to this point of expression. Conversation was good -- we always had something to talk about, and it seems we've got other interests in common too; aside from the fierce sexual attraction, there could be other activities we may enjoy doing together. S's touch is so gentle, and natural. His touch feels so familiar, and (I know I've mentioned this before) his lips are beautifully suckable. His attentions to my body were all-encompassing. Fingers, hands roaming, grasping my knee under the bar; gliding up my leg, my thigh. His fingers found a barely visible spot of flesh where my shirt floated above the waistline of my jeans and before I knew what he was even up to, his lips & tongue found their way to my belly. I know we're going to have some fun times together.

That afternoon, S & I established our mutual attractions for one another... he asked briefly, "do you feel at all guilty about any of this?" I replied "Guilty? Why, do you?" With concurring "naw"s, he said "alright then. No more has to be said about that!" See, it's not just me... there are plenty of others who don't feel guilty for these types of actions. And I guess our whole lot are made for each other.

In my free moments, my mind wanders to S's gently gliding hands. His body movements are perfectly exquisite, free flowing and responsive to my own. He confessed that he's let his imagination run wild about me recently. I can definitely say the same. Can't wait to get back to work tomorrow.

On another note, M has been dropping major hints lately, and I've still been hesitant to respond engagingly. First off, the guy he works with is ALWAYS around, so it's very difficult for me to get M alone at all to talk to him 1 on 1. Secondly, it's been so long since allowing myself to hope for the time to get with him, that I think I may have convinced myself it never will happen. Perhaps I've let that distance toughen me a bit to his overtures. (Because I don't like being disappointed? And I don't like getting blue-balled?) But then again, all it would take is for M to corner me somewhere, kiss me like he did before and start grabbing at my body the way I know he loves to do, and seriously, I'd be right there all over again.

So, going to work is a whole lot of fun these days. I trust that S will maintain our undercover goings-ons, as M has. Funny though -- M gets jealous, playfully jealous. S says he doesn't get jealous. (Usually we say what's actually in reverse for real, right?) Whatever the case, everybody knows I'm married, so fuck jealousy. And of course they don't know about each other.

H and I are still planning on going to the swingers' party this Saturday. We'll have to discuss limits, he says. Absolutely. Limits. Comfort zones. He doesn't want any man to stick his dick in my pussy. I assumed that anyway. The last time we went, we didn't even take condoms, and I would never let anybody fuck me without a condom. He looked at me and joked "what about you? You don't even have any limits for me, do you? You really don't care if I go and do whatever the fuck I want." I said, "yeah, basically. I don't think I do have any limits for you." "Damn, you're such a slut."

That's me baby. Slut. Oh yeah, and yesterday, H & I had some absolutely wild sex, twice. I realize that I get horny everyday. I used to hold it back, reading his energy levels. Not anymore. When I want it, he's going to know about it, no matter what.

Personal History

2006-08-25T17:51:00.000-04:00

My response to a reader's questions...

"Are you the product of some type of broken home or was this just your appetite from the start of your sexual encounters?"

As far as my family history is concerned, I'd have to say that my home while growing up was not "broken" per se, but a little dysfunctional. I have a sibling whom I consider has gone through drug abuse stages and who (through no knowledge of my own) was sexually abused as a child. I have a father who was/is what one may call a "functioning alcoholic", whom I have seen be physically violent in his younger days. I have a mother who, though with good intentions, was rather standoffish as a parent, domineering as a wife, and neglected/abused as a child. All in all, despite the obstacles, we had a very loving family, and as with most everyone, we've developed our own coping mechanisms; mine was detachment and independence. I did what I was supposed to do (to keep the critical eye off of me), was very much a "goody-two-shoes", A-student, followed the rules, didn't drink until I was 21, got & maintained a job when I wanted some extra cash, went to college & got the degree, tried my hand at various relationships along the way, and became a successful, healthy individual in the process. Of course I'm not perfect. I have my quirks. I've offended people in my past. I've spoken out of line during inappropriate times, with inappropriate tones. But my people-skills have generally been honed for professional success.

As for my personal relationships... it's strange. Through my young-adult days, I carried on what's termed as the "serial monogamist lifestyle". I went through boyfriends every two years. Verizon's plan -- new every two. I suppose I was the type to fall in love quite easily, but just love is, in reality, just not enough. After two years, I would start wondering about the future, and whether or not I could deal with this person in my life for much longer; how compatible are we really? is this person good *for* me, as in, does/will he make me want to be a better person? blah blah blah. And usually at about the same time, someone else would catch my eye. Being as entrenched in the supreme value of Monogamy as I was, I of course would break things off with my current beau, in order to start something with my future beau. I must have done this through at least 5 or 6 boyfriends continuously, starting with my highschool sweetheart (pre-sexually active days), all the way until I was happily single for a year -- the year before I met my H. I ended each and every one of those relationships. If I'm any kind of psychological deviant, I'd say I'm a narcissist. Philosophical deviance: hedonism. (Check out this article for a nice, simple breakdown of various competing philosophies dealing with pleasure, if you're interested.)

I sometimes wonder if my string of relationships (and my ultimate desire to "move on" eventually) has anything to do with what I consider my queer sexual orientation, and the denial of/inattention to it. The fact that I never let myself actively pursue my sexual attraction to other women (until after I was married), and that I have generally kept emotionally intimate relationships with other women to a minimum, might have something to do with the various dissatisfactions I've had with my boyfriends, and why I find it relatively easy to withhold this secret life I'm leading right now. I mean, if I can hold as big a secret as sexual orientation from people, then why not be able to handle a sexual affair? And that whole coping mechanism thing of detachment & independence? You can see how that would lead to my astute ability to compartmentalize sex from love.

In a way, these acts of infidelity have given me what I've wanted my entire sexual life -- unattached sexual freedom. I've always deeply wanted to just have sex casually, but it could never happen. Someone would fall in love, and someone else would give in. I always wanted to just put myself out there, but I also didn't want to be known as the town slut either. Living the life of adultery, discretion is a must -- with both partners (so long as they too are in committed, loving relationships). And the freedom I derive from it all is unnamable.

In summary, I suppose you could say that I've liked "diversity" in my love life ever since I began being sexually active. (I was kind of boy-crazy as a young girl too.) Just trying to live as limitless as possible in this limited world.

Mr. Smooth & Beyond

2006-08-22T17:21:00.000-04:00

mmm... it's amazing what the combination of sexual attraction and alcohol will do to you. right now I feel absolutely GOOD. and relaxed. muscles relaxed, his smile on my mind... we had a good time, good fun, good drinks, getting-to-know-you beer session. I have a sweet, wonderful feeling seeping throughout my being right now. The sun has calmed its fire hot heat. Now it graces us with its warm, nourishing company. I like his body: tall, not-too-lean, not-too-beefy. His lips seem perfectly suckable. Fuck kissable -- I just want to suck on them. He is reserved. And I like it like that. We're talking pretty openly about significant others; he's not married, but he is spoken for. Mr. Smooth -- yes, I shall call him S. Mr. Smooth is the gentleman at work who has caught my eye as of late. We get along quite well at work, flirt relatively heavily, and now have gone out for some beers together. Conversation was good, fun, joking -- all the right ingredients for a fun time had by all.

After three beers on an empty stomach, I'm still a little tipsy. Tingly, lightly quiet vibrations moving steadily across my skin, my lips... I'm glad "nothing" happened between us tonight. Aside from having a good time together, nothing (of the anonymous, adulterous and amorous sort) actually happened. I have a feeling though that I'm going to look forward to going to work even more from here on out.

Other News: M is back in action. After having returned from this past weeks' vacation, his actions toward me have been decidedly flirtatious again. He's picked up where he left off a few months ago, and I must say that I'm very turned on by it all. Imagination runs rampant and I remember our little trysts as though they were only a few days ago. The scent of his laundry detergent still makes my insides quiver with delight. I don't know how far to keep him... part of me wants to start things up with him again, and part of me wants to just let it be. My groin says go for it, and yet something unnamable says 'be wary.' Just yesterday H reminded me that he's okay with me having "drinks with the boys" but he just doesn't want me fucking them. There IS in fact, something in between the extremes, isn't there?

H doesn't want me fucking my coworkers. But then again, just a few days ago he mentioned, somewhat casually, that there was going to be another swingers' party coming up shortly. Of course, my cunt went into spasms just thinking about it, but I had to play it cool, so he wouldn't feel too uncomfortable about my joy. He obviously was able to see my excitement nonetheless -- and quickly noted that he married a slut. *smiles, laughter* ensued. I'm very much looking forward to Playing again. Just thinking about all the sexual energy I've been attempting to keep at bay, thinking about my H and our interactions, filled with love and animal sexual ferocity... I just can't wait.

Also decided to give B a call. Haven't spoken to him in a couple of weeks despite having thought about him A Bit since then. We had a great conversation -- fun and games and jokes abound. Communicated my feelings enough for him to know that I've thought about him and that he's still on my mind. Don't know when we'll get a chance to get together again... my H is still on holiday schedule, and B's schedule is mighty hectic as well. When the time comes, we'll know it's right.

Icing on the cake: I saw C (my sexy Coworker, not M or S) today. Got a hug and a kiss on the cheek. (Par for the course these days with C.) Though I haven't seen him in a bit of time, he's still as good looking as ever. I really don't think anything will ever come of our flirtations -- but I'm happy with how things lie with him as well. Maybe I'm just a slut for attention -- anything to feel liked/lusted after/admired? Whatever... it's all good.

All in all, today was a very good day.

Update, Q&A, etc.

2006-08-17T15:40:00.000-04:00

Well, well, well. H has been home for two weeks now, and where do I find myself? What's running through Anonyma's mind lately?

I'm horny. I'm happy Husband is home. I want to fuck. I miss my Buddy. I can't get away from H's insistent eye long enough to write on my blog. Still can't stop the physical attraction at work. I'm really horny. I love fucking my H. Man from work has been out on vacation all week long. Haven't seen Co-worker in a while. Been super busy getting Life Things straightened out...

My last rendezvous with B was so incredibly sexy, and we had such an amazing time together. He joked that he stumbled for just a moment the previous few weeks while I was away -- he caught himself in a terribly sticky mental maneuver that went something like this:

damn, she's awesome. and boy the sex is hot. I did used to have a crush on her back in the day. and I think she likes me alright. we do have so much fun together. she is pretty cool. we could get along pretty well together, couldn't we? what the fuck? am I falling for her?

This train of thought was immediately followed by the righteous devil seated squarely on his shoulder responding, "nah. nah. nah. it's just sex! you a pimp! you a pimp! you're both married, remember?!! IT'S JUST SEX!"

I thought this was a very funny thing. Not only was his delivery hilarious -- B has a very comical nature. But I also chuckled inside, how so often in sexual situations (at least almost all of the ones I've been in) it's been the guy who "falls" first. Once sex is involved, it's like they're hooked, blinded and suddenly they've fallen into a stupor of love. Perhaps it's a big fat joke that women are so lovey-dovey and confuse love with lust so easily, when in fact it's the men who have turned the whole thing around because really they are the ones who are so tender. It's great.

This past week, H and I have had some pretty hot sex. I've found though that there are definitely some things I can not bring into the bedroom with H that come naturally with B. I'm not comparing here -- not making any kind of normative statement about what is better or worse -- just making an observation, for clarity's sake. Perhaps it's a matter of comfort, ease, or what have you. All I know is, some things just don't fit right. Like talking dirty for instance. Some instances of fucking with H might be downright sexy and raw, but something about the role-playing that comes with "oh yeah, you want me to fuck you, don't you? is that what you want? tell me you want me to fuck you" something about that just doesn't resonate with how we have sex together. The aggression/control thing perhaps hits too close to home? (relationship issues...) So we're unable to play with it? Otherwise, the sex was fantastic! I've missed my H incredibly, and I'm glad he's home.

It seems I haven't made any "moves" lately to stray. I think I'm laying low for a while until we both get our routines back up and running smoothly again. However, that said, I feel I need to state that yet another gentleman at work has caught my eye. To be accurate, he *did* catch my eye on the very first day I started working with said company, but our "colleagueship" has been slow to progress. We've always been on amiable terms, lots of jokes within our group of coworkers, buddy-buddy, whatever, but only recently have we become flirtatious, the kind of flirtatious with long, yummy looks, welcome sexual innuendo jokes, physical contact type of flirtatious. We're both still very reserved with each other, but there's definately *something* there. Only two problems I foresee: a) he's got kids, b) he lives less than a mile from us. I know mommies and daddies have affairs all the time, but something approximating a conscience starts to kick in when children are involved. And Proximity being so close -- huge bells ringing loudly, big blaring red signs read: en garde!

Things with M have been hit and miss, mostly miss. He's finally stopped avoiding me at work, but there hasn't been anything overtly assertive as far as approaching me as he had before the medical concern. This past week he's been on vacation, and I have missed seeing him around. I still think about him a lot, and wonder if we'll ever get together again. Sometimes images flash through my head reminding me of those brief few moments we had together, the kissing, the touching, the making out, and I still get waves of pleasure thinking about it all.
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Now, for the Q&A:

Q: "...do you walk away from an encounter like that with any pangs of guilt?"
A: When it comes to sex, I don't feel guilty for doing something considered "wrong". I don't really see the act as an issue of wrong or right. When B tells me that he's having relationship problems with his wife, I do feel bad about that. But I don't see myself as the cause of those problems. I feel "bad" in the same way that I would feel bad for any of my other friends, when they confide their troubles in me. It is empathy, not guilt. Am I perhaps contributing to B's relationship woes? It is a possibility. It is also a possibility that I could be helping him, by displacing his pent up aggressions, thereby freeing up good energy for him to put into working on what they have. There's no real way to know whether my role in his life is helpful or hurtful. I simply exist, and however he chooses to act accordingly is what will determine the direction of his growth. Guilt for deceiving my husband? No... the types of guilt that I feel in regard to H demonstrate themselves in much more strange ways. For example, feeling guilty for not being more of a neat freak. Or feeling guilty because I want to spend more time with the computer than with H at times. Or feeling guilty for not being able to summon up the energy to dote on him more. Maybe my sense of what "guilt" means is not legal enough. In our relationship-response-cycles, I feel remorse when I'm aware that I've hurt him. When I am responsible for causing him pain. At this present time, he is not hurt, he is not distraught, and he is not in pain. So why would there be any remorse?

Q: "...will you pull one of those psychological "I want to get caught" type things?"
A: It is hard to say what one will do in the future, especially as it concerns psychological moves -- most people are quite unaware of their own psychologies. Currently, I can say no, I really don't want to get caught. My actions have been deliberate. I have chosen to cheat by kissing M. I have chosen to pursue an affair with B. This is not a "cry for help". Is it sociopathic behavior? Probably. Is there a part of me that chose to do this, to "see if I can get away with it"? Maybe there's a small part of me, like the cleptomaniac who does it for the rush, the dance with danger. Some people might say that "deep down" all sociopaths really do actually want to get caught, because they desperately desire the help they otherwise can not ask for. From this perspective, I disagree. I think deep down, I'm at worst -- selfishly lustful, desiring to feel as much as possible in this life, with as little cost and as little damage to others as is possible. If I can frolic through life without harming my partner any more than is natural in any intimate relationship, then I think I can go on doing this for as long as I find it pleasurable. "Getting caught" would put a full stop to that. So... no, I don't want to get caught.

Q: "So, how's the STDs?"
A: M has given me the news that he's clean. His medical concern is still apparent, but the doctors don't have an answer to what it is, but it's not any kind of STD. I think his guilt about us was manifesting itself as a rash, personally. Those catholic types have an amazing ability to create apparitions of guilt at any time. I have not had my full check yet, but I think I will very soon. I really don't think I could have contracted anything from just kissing M, and B was married in a state that requires medical disclosures before being wed. (Those are the only two men aside from H I've been intimate with, despite popular opinion that I'm fucking a multitude of men all at once and then boasting about it.) I'd still like to get tested nonetheless. I definitely don't like that kind of anxiety that comes with this sort of thing, and I have a feeling that the dangers/risks involved do act as a deterrent of sorts. It does make me think more than twice before doing anything, rather than go at it willy nilly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And for etc.:

I had another awesome masturbation session today. It happened really fast, AND I was on my back! I'll write up the fantasy soon. Teaser: it's a MFF scenario, and I'm on the bottom...

Seeing, Smelling, Tasting B

2006-08-02T22:41:00.000-04:00

We met in his city -- my old hometown. Ate a bite of breakfast, lasting super long. Jovial conversation, like old friends. Oh yeah, that's right, we are old friends. Friendly, under-the-table caresses, his leg resting on my seat cushion. "Let's go see a movie." Mention of the old porn theater; too early, perhaps it's not open yet? Not today, but definitely some time in the future... What about a regular movie theater? Thoughts cross my mind of making out in the back row... something I never did as a teen. Thoughts move on to having sex in public, in the back row... mmm that sounds really nice. Let's go. The movie we decide to see doesn't start for another hour. New option: let's go to his office. Sneaky, weekend-office desk sex. Sounds great!

The drive there is friendly. We are full of hoots; our conversations always make us laugh like we're crazy. A couple of regular jokesters we are. We arrive at his office; he writes an email. A few minutes later, he goes into the back storage room, calls me in to follow. I sit down on the table, and suddenly he turns off the lights. I'm trapped! Pitch dark. He's taken me by surprise, and his lips have found their way to my forehead. Kiss. Down my cheek. Kiss. On my chin. Kiss. By the time he gets to my lips, I'm burning with desire. We french, and I'm completely drawn into his arms. God, how I love his body -- so thick, so centered, so full of strength.

Quickly he unbuttons my pants, shoves his hand down, immediately working on my wet pussy. His fingers feel like magic, dipping into my wetness briefly, then finding my clit, press-release-rub-release-press, the motions of his fingers are stimulating me like I've never felt before. The fleshy pads of his fingertips are running circles against my clit, dashing back inside of me, fucking me. I feel insane. My breathing gets so heavy, I feel like I'm in the middle of fucking a dick, but it's B's hand that's driving me to such a passionate frenzy.

I undo his pants, and yes, there it is -- my big, hard, beautiful prick! He tells me, "That's you're dick, baby. That's right. Tell me where you want it. Tell me where you want your dick." I'm thinking, oh, everywhere! "first, I want it in my mouth." Lips wet, wetting his cock, licking, kissing, sucking. "Mm baby, put it in your mouth." I do as I'm told. His dick fills my mouth, fills my throat, and I take him in further. I know he wants to fuck me now.

We decide to move to a different room, one that's further away, where we can make more noise, in case anyone should decide to show up. Another desk. Yes, this is just the spot. He turns the lights off again. The total darkness has my other senses on high. The sweet, muffled sounds emanating from deep in his throat, gutteral. The natural aroma of sweat, excitement and sex emitted through his pores. Mmm, the delicious taste of his tongue against my own. The darkness envelops our bodies against the cold hard surface of the desk, and I'm tingling with my own excitement.

He starts fingering me again. Bends me over the table, my ass in the air, fingering me, asking me if I like it like this. Oh yes, I do, I do. How I want to feel his cock in me so bad. We switch positions -- he against the table, I kneel in front of him, planting deep kisses all along his shaft. I work my mouth all along his entire length, and finally he flips me over the desk again. I know he's going to fuck me now.

I'm bent forward, a slap on the ass cheeks. The head of his dick is pressing against my swollen pussy lips. Ah, the tightness feels so good. He presses further, deeper, until he's fully inside me. His expert fingers find my clit again, and while he's fucking me, he rubs it. So much heightened sensation.This feels absolutely incredible. Turns me on my back, swings my legs over his shoulders and starts pumping me full force. Between my tight pussy, his big hard dick, and his forceful pounding, the pleasure borders on the sweet kind of pain that resonates all throughout my body. I grip the edges of the table so my body can meet his thrusts and we're fucking like mad.

I shift to my side and B grabs my hips -- uses them as grips, uses me thoroughly. He's holding onto my hips, pulling my entire body toward him with every push. I want to fuck doggy style. I want to be his bitch. Get fucked from behind. Getting on my knees on the table, he slaps my ass cheeks some more. With every hit, my cunt seizes up, tightening around his very hard cock. He starts rubbing my asshole with his thumb. That's making me wild. I start bouncing back against him even harder. I can feel my asshole loosen up, wanting his thumb inside me. "Ooh, yeah, you like that, don't you?" He works his way deeper inside me, and all I can do is writhe under his manipulation of me. When his thumb is down to the palm, with his dick in my pussy, and his other hand rubbing my clit, I'm hit with a wave of hot pleasure. I'm ravenous for everything he puts inside me. I just want more and more of him deeper and harder. "I wish I had two dicks, I'd fuck you in your ass at the same time. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Yeah. You're so nasty, girl. That's right, you are a little whore." The way he's treating me, I feel like such a slut -- and it feels great. His words, whispered against the dark room, into my ears makes me feel even more wild, like a rabid animal, I just want to fuck even harder.

The pleasure I'm feeling is out of control. He moves me, moves through me, I like the feeling of being used. I like feeling manipulated. He pulls, I give. He pushes, I give. So unlike my usual controlled movements of muscular agility. Here, I am thrown around like a ragdoll. His force overwhelms me.

Pulls out his dick, I lick it. I can taste my cunt juices mixed with a hint of rubber from the condom. Ooh, I really like giving B head. He puts a finger in my pussy and a finger in my ass, reaming me while I'm sucking his beautiful prick. His dick is so big, and I try to stay relaxed, but his finger fucking feels so damned good, it makes me catch my breath, so I gag slightly. That makes me even hotter because he just keeps pumping away at my mouth. "You're going to make me cum in your mouth. You want me to cum? That's it, right there. Mmmm." His hot juice fills my mouth, coating my throat. Then he bends down kissing me deeply, with his taste still in my mouth. His tongue, searching, cleaning out my mouth for every trace of his own taste. God he's fucking sexy!

History of H, revisited

2006-07-31T15:38:00.000-04:00

This post was spurred as a response to a reader's questions, and I thought it appropriate to revisit my situation with H and our past together. The question was,

"So in the time you've been with H...were you always looking for an outlet? Did you know that it would one day happen? Or was it random thoughts that suddenly presented itself into opportunity?"

I'm not sure I can honestly say that "it just happened". But it's not as though I've always wanted to stray from the beginning either. Perhaps a bit of both? There is a history to take into account here. When I first became involved with H, I was not a one-man-gal. I was "happily single", dating many people at once (emotionally & sexually), and each person I was with knew that I was in a non-committal state. I was even intrigued with polyamory. In fact, I was dead-set against marriage & monogamy. Things were pretty smooth, but then I fell in love with H pretty damned hard. I got the notion that I really could see spending the rest of my life with him, despite all obstacles. H had a difficult time with me seeing other men, and it was a combination of not wanting to lose this opportunity with H & not being strong enough in my own resolution to compel him to choose an open relationship with me, or not be with me at all. (The latter I recognize was a selfish decision, to not stand my ground on the issue -- I only wanted H in my life, even if that meant possibly hurting him in the future. Were I to go back, I would have been more truthful to the both of us from the beginning, and risk his rejection of me and my lifestyle.) Additionally, our "honeymoon phase" lasted for so many years that I believed I had found "just the perfect person" with whom to live monogamously. We were just too damned compatible across so many aspects of our relationship not to be. For years I wasn't even the least bit attracted to anyone other than my H. (That should have been an immediate flag that I was somehow deceiving myeself.) And then, something just clicked inside me.

Suddenly, there was a whole world of attraction that just opened up in front of me. Maybe I was just being a horny dog with no self-control. (Is that so bad? My H doesn't think so, at least with him. Me being a horny dog lacking self control is who I am, and it lends itself to a vivacious sex life together. He wouldn't want me to limit any of my other passionate natures to just him -- that would be enslavement; but for some reason, the general public seems to think that sex has a special reserve, as though it is more important than any other passion. I do disagree with that notion.) Maybe I just don't hold marriage vows to the esteem that many others do. But there were so many signs that were hinting at me, for a good while, to just let go. And then yes, suddenly an opportunity presented itself (with M, a man at work). I was wracked with indecision over the matter -- not over guilt, for I was already guilty for hungering so deeply in my loins for someone other than my H -- but over whether or not I wanted to put the energy it would take to make the necessary precautions so that my H would never find out, to limit his exposure to the knowledge that would indeed cause him pain. I probably should have controlled my desires. I probably should have just been honest with H about my attractions for someone else, or ignored it for a longer amount of time and hope it would go away on its own. But at that point, I felt that if I didn't step out, and instead supressed my desires, that it would eat away at me even more, resulting in an even more powerful impetus to do something rash, thereby increasing the chances of "getting caught" and causing my H unnecessary grief. I also felt as though I would have been lying to myself, had I supressed my passion, making me shrivel up inside, and then resenting H for my own dissatisfaction. And what kind of marriage would that be? I've always made it a point to make choices in life so that in retrospect, I would have no regrets. I would definitely regret committing to a relationship filled with resentments. I realize there are other options to avoid resentment than the path that I've chosen, but I had to follow my heart, and this is what feels right to me, right now.

H knows my passionate nature. He knows my sexuality. He knows I can not live my life without being true to these natures. He also knows I am not perfect. He knows I will fail. He knows I will fall. And yet he loves me still. Yes, if the truth were revealed to him, he would be hurt, very much so. My faith in our marriage is such that I am certain we will overcome any turbulence, with a lot of work and a lot of help. I know that trust is something so fragile that it can crumble with something like this. I also know that I risk losing H's trust for the rest of our lives together. My faith in my love for H is so strong that I know I will never stop loving him, and never stop falling in love with him. If the knowledge of my actions should cause his love for me to cease, or if he could not find forgiveness in his heart for my indiscretions, then it will be a loss I must suffer. But he will always have my love, should he ever desire it.

I feel that our errors is what makes us real. I would never want to be perfect, and lose such precious humanity. I know H feels the same way, at least about that.

Seeing B

2006-07-28T17:18:00.000-04:00

I haven't had the opportunity to see B since our overnighter before my holiday. Yesterday, I briefly saw him for a short car ride. I saw him enough to know that the heat is still on. Our conversations are so much fun, lots of joking and teasing and laughter. Lots of touching. I was in my workclothes, dirty, and not exactly at my sexiest. But he still managed to find me appealing. One thing that always gets me going is when a man kisses, grabs, caresses or pulls at my body in areas usually ignored. Lips, tits, ass, crotch... well, they're the usual suspects. They are the "forbidden", so people go for them first. But, Oh! to be tugged at the waist, to be kissed at the elbow, to be fondled at the wrist... it's a beautiful sensation. We're planning on getting together tomorrow, and I'm not sure of where to go. Part of me wants to go to an hourly motel somewhere, but I'm not exactly sure of how to find one of those. Red flag, I know, I know, I'm not a pro at this!

Tomorrow will be my 4th time with B. That is, the fourth time we'll have gotten together after being married, with intimacy involved. It's funny, M once said to me, while explaining his cheating history, that he had never had an affair before, but has "cheated" once. At the time, I didn't quite understand the differentiation. But now, I get it. Maintaining an ongoing affair with someone else makes certain demands upon your time. It makes you have to plan things. With B, the first kiss was cheating. The second time when we had sex in the car was cheating. The third time overnight... that was pushing it. Tomorrow... well, it's all starting to feel like an affair.

(Sidenote: M is still basically avoiding me at work. Though he did go out of his way to come see me the other day. Damned mixed signals... I still find him highly attractive. Still no word on the test results.)

Coil. Strike. Recoil. Repeat.

2006-07-27T20:26:00.000-04:00

In the wee land of sex bloggers, I've found some remarkably kind souls. From the profoundly fleshy, spirit-exposed posts to the supportive, understanding and encouraging comments that follow, I feel inextricably bound to the lot. I feel closer and more intimate with most of these people who write their stories for anyone to read, than with some of my own friends. I only wish I could reveal half of what I do here to them. But, as some recent comments on this blog have shown, these subjects are not to be taken lightly. Of course I know that my actions are unapproved by the majority of people. Of course I will have to suffer repercussions if my H found out about any of this. The biggest that I fear being his pain, his aching heart, and his true suffering. (Unlike "Emily's" shallow, empty, vengeful acts, which in and of themselves would be meaningless and pointless, if the whole thing wasn't fake.)

Strangely, I like being nipped at by these anonymous comments. It's a curious reaction I have: Ooh, a negative comment! *excitement* Hmm. Is it intelligently communicated? *disappointment* Okay, does the gist of their comment say anything remotely worthwhile? *glimmer of hope* Well, at least it gets me thinking about my next post. *on with my life*

Reading all these blogs and taking part in this community has me convinced that sex and other forms of intimacy really do make for better relationships between people... at least for those who can withstand its power. It's like a form of divinity that possesses you. In small doses, most people can handle its glory. But for the few who can maintain the earthly vessel for an energy so great, it can corrupt, if not respected. Like any other form of power, it should be checked. Thus, I revel in my negative comments. It keeps me human. And, I am human, afterall.

Changing Positions

2006-07-24T15:44:00.000-04:00

No, I'm not changing my position on extramarital affairs... so far so good. I'm talking about masturbation. For the longest time, I've been an on-my-stomach, palm-on-clit, no-fingers kind of girl. It's hard, it's rough, and it's fast. I definitely like a good fingering, but I guess my digits just can't compete with those of a man. Recently, I've discovered Literotica, an awesome stories archive, with some daily free pics (basically just adverts for pay sites). So in order to be able to read the stories off my laptop and still touch myself, I've had to do a 180 on how I get myself off. This is a very good thing.

When I'm lying on my back, I don't have the weight of my body pressing down on my hand, so I really have to work at how I stimulate myself. This also opens my tits up to the air, and I can rub them and grab my nipples easier. And boy is that nice! Not to mention, I'm sure my H (and perhaps other lovers) will like it better since they get to see more of me, while they're watching me please myself. Not only that, since it's (relatively) new to me, it takes me much longer to reach an orgasm, which makes it much more intense when it does happen. And to top it all off, I don't get the pubic mound bruising like I used to get when I masturbated on my stomach "too often".

Speaking of masturbation, I had the pleasure of leaning (and slowly grinding) my crotch up against a vibrating table at work today. Don't ask for specifics of why the table was vibrating -- just accept it as a given, because I'll never tell. Yeah, that felt really good. The kicker: I was doing this in secret right in front of another coworker! I got wet just thinking about my naughty act.

Opinions for the ladies out there: how well does a vibrator work for you in reaching an orgasm? how well does cunnilingus work for you in getting there? Me -- vibrating dildos seem to be too much stimulation for me; it kind of gets in the way. I've never used a bullet directly on my clit before, but I'd think it would be too much as well. As for oral, well... I've managed to cum from it only once in my life... and I happened to be fantasizing that I was in a coma being violated, not moving my body at all, going completely passive. Don't get the wrong idea though... I cum fairly easily... on a cock. I think that's probably one of the main reasons why I have a hard time imagining myself sustaining any kind of long sexual relationship with another woman; she'd probably get tired of me wanting so much strap-on action.

Web Stuff, Blog Stuff

2006-07-19T18:51:00.000-04:00

First off, I'd like to welcome Gracie to this quaint little place on the wide wide web. I added her link on the sidebar a few days ago, but never wrote an intro... so here it is. I found her leaving a comment on one of Nightside Jonny's posts, so decided to check it out. Hot! Super Hot! Not-for-the-faint-of-heart-Hot. Me likey.

Secondly, I'd like to comment on a very strange thing that has happened. Remember when I said "in only 365 more hits..." blah blah blah, well, that number has been exceedingly surpassed, but not exactly in the way I had hoped. See, recently somebody decided to link to my blog... and I'm not really sure how I feel about it. I just can't fathom why she would link here, considering the topic of her blog. It is also pretty new, but has somehow managed to gather enough traffic to refer over a thousand visiters a day to my blog. Under relatively normal circumstances, I'd be pretty happy about that. But in this case, not so ecstatic. See, she's a very angry woman. (See for yourself.) And she's exacting a type of justice that I'd rather not partake in, one that I do find ethically reprehensible. But seeing as how one has absolutely zero control over who decides to link to you, then alas, a thousand visitors a day I shall have. I wouldn't be surprised if more comments like the one on my previous post started showing up. I really don't like to delete comments, as my philosophy on blogging is that you put yourself Out There to be seen -- all reactions, be they lauding or flaming, should be honored. We'll see...

Finally, I have to say that with the rise of audience, my fear grows greater that one of these curious/judgemental/nonjudgemental/sexual/loving/indignant/etc readers perhaps knows me & I'd be made... how conceited is that?! I hope not. And I was just getting used to our itty bitty circle of fun over here...

UPDATE 7/20: I did some more searching about "viral campaigns" and "emily blog" yada yada, and found these links pretty enlightening: wikipedia, will thinking, adland, curbed.

In Memoriam

2006-07-18T16:33:00.000-04:00

As promised... Before I ever became friends with M or C, I worked up quite a fantasy involving the two of them. It went something like this:

I had walked into the storage closet for a project I had to work on. I thought I was alone, but then M comes out from behind a shelving unit, surprising me. We barely knew each other at the time, as I was just starting my job there. I was prepared for some small talk, but instead M walked straight up to me, grabbed me around the waist, pulling me close against his chest, kissing me deep and hard. I was shocked that he would do such a thing, and so when our lips parted, I stumbled back a few steps, bumping into somebody who was planted behind me. Spinning on my toes, I turned around to find that C had been standing in the doorway watching us the whole time. Before I could even say a word, C grasped my arms, guiding me past the threshold, and closed the door behind him. The two men looked at each other knowingly. That's when everything started getting wild.

I was facing C when M approached us from behind. C cupped his palm behind my neck, pulling me toward him. I felt his other hand reach around the small of my back, tugging my body in one quick motion. As C and I were kissing, I started to feel M's hard cock rubbing against my ass. I turned to look at him, and suddenly his warm wet lips were tasting my tongue. C began unbuttoning my shirt, and I was so turned on with M pressing up against my ass, C's hard dick pushing against my pelvis, and wanting that wonderful sensation of C's lips against my waiting tits.

I felt M grab at my shirt placket, pulling it aside to release my aching tits from the shirt. He took a handful, pinching one of my nipples as C sucked on the other. I reached down with one hand, feeling C's super-hard rod in his pants, and with my other hand I reached behind me, squeezing M's cock through his jeans. C then unzipped my pants, giving enough room to thrust his hand down into my panties. His fingers went right to work, finding my little hole, rubbing my clit with his palm, and getting me even more wet than I already was.

M started pulling my pants down, sliding the waistband over my ass and hips. Once my ass was fully exposed, he slapped it nice and hard. From behind, he then reached his hand between my legs, spreading my cunt juices back toward my asshole. C had gotten down on his knees and began licking my pussy while finger fucking me. M meanwhile was getting my asshole wet and ready for his dick. He worked in one pussy-juiced finger at a time until I was relaxed enough to take in his hard cock. I felt like such a slut like that -- all these fingers inside me, getting me ready to be fucked good and hard. Just as I was about to cum, C abruptly took his fingers out of my cunt, and slammed his dick inside me, throwing bolts of electricity throughout my body. Leaning his back against the door, he put both his hands on my waist lifting me up and down his wet pole. Then he held onto my ass as his grip, spreading my cheeks apart for M. I felt M's glistening head rubbing along my asshole, begging for entry. C's cock was stretching my pussy wide and now M's cock was making his way into my ass. (This is the point where I usually orgasm in a double penetration fantasy. But seeing as how I was at work while fantasizing, unable to take care of these needs, the imagining went further.)

M pressed into me and with a bit of delicious pain, pushed his cock-head past my tightness. Now with two dicks buried deep inside me, I was delirious with pleasure. For every thrust that M made, I rode up higher on C's dick. Their rhythms began matching with one another's and the three of us are breathing in unison. The slow, deliberate motions brought me even closer to climax, when M began whispering in my ear that I really was a slut wasn't I? and only sluts like being fucked by two guys at the same time. Only sluts take it so deep in the ass. That I'm his and C's little whore. That just brought me over the edge and as I orgasmed, the repeated contractions of my pussy and my asshole both milked M and C until they both shot their loads deep inside me.

Thanks for the love! + A bit of fun

2006-07-13T16:33:00.000-04:00

Wow, I really feel touched by all the warm greetings I've been getting on comments as well as emails. My readership here has grown surprisingly, thanks to the links put up by Osbasso (I don't have my HNT this week), Melanie(thanks for the comment!), and Smackmom (I wish I could read Italian).

Stat fun: in only 365 more hits to this site, this baby blog, at only a few months in, will have overtaken my one and a half year long daytime blog. This is a phenomena noted by many of us "webonymous" folk (thanks NJ) -- people are just more interested in darkly dirty desires involving sex, lies & videotape than in the daily ramblings of relatively decent writers who deal with varying all-important issues of world affairs, literature, arts, religion, what I made for dinner last night, etc. Or maybe it's that because I have the freedom to be as candid as I want, it makes my writing here better too. Who knows.

On to the bit of fun...

These following tests were passed around a while back, but I'm just now posting my answers. And how I do love my answers!

'How will you be defined in the sexual dictionary?'

anonyma --

[adjective]:

Insatiable to the
point of crazy

QuizUniverse.com

'What sexual activity will you go to jail for?'

anonyma will go to jail for ...

Making sweet love to a religious symbol

QuizUniverse.com

It's a doozy!

2006-07-11T17:17:00.000-04:00

So much to write... such a brief window of literate opportunity... I know how quickly the words can pass, for they form in mid-air as abstractions, un-thoughts, lived expressions, organic, and I struggle to transform them into coherent ideas, concepts and linguistics.

1) caught between two blogs. When blog posts form in my head, they are sparked from a germinating seed of an idea. Then creativity flows, and though I may have a particular topic in mind, Freeflow takes me whereever it should lead. I follow in gratitude. Lately, I've been experiencing difficulty in maintaining my separate voices in distinguishing between the me who writes, knowing my H, his friends, my friends, and various family members may read what it is I'm writing --- and the Anonyma me who writes purely for myself, along the lines of Anonymity, Adultery and Amorous Affairs... one thing leads to another, and I can't find where to break off. I can't mention the turmoil of Anonyma's life in my daytime blog, despite that very thing being the source of much inspiration. I can't mention most details discussed in my daytime blog in Anonyma Land, else, I'd stop being Anonyma. So it goes, and then I just don't write the post -- the germinated seed dies before it can even break through the fertile soil.

2) fantasy collides with reality -- M and continued drama. For a few days before I left for my holiday, I got the feeling that M was acting standoffish and rather distanced from me. I chalked it up to his being overly active in his son's sport affairs. I reasoned that perhaps he was somewhat sad to see me go. I hoped he was just distracted. Yesterday, after my first day back to work, he called me on my cell with a personal, somewhat embarrassing, "delicate" statement/question... without being uncouth, let's just leave it at the issue having to do with a medical concern. I controlled my urge to not get defensive/offended. After all, it's genuine concern. That's when things started making sense. So that's the reason behind the distance. That's why he stopped kissing me. Was he worried that I transmitted something? Or was he warning me of a possible transmission on his part? What a way to burst a perfectly round, squeaky, beautifully irridescent bubble! And mind you, we never even had sex! Lucky for me, no symptoms. But it does make we want to be even more cautious than I have been. And it makes me want to get another blood analysis. You can never be too safe, really. The phone conversation ended congenially, but abruptly. Today at work, I didn't know how to interact with him, so I didn't, basically. That's the benefit of having a paramour who you don't work with directly. When things hit a wall, it's easy to avoid one another. I don't think we'll avoid each other indefinitely -- I really want to talk with him, but I've always had to follow my instincts, and in this case, my instincts tell me to tread lightly. In fact, I did see him today, briefly. But there were always others around. In his eyes, I could tell he was pleading with me. The strange nature of our beast of a "relationship" has placed very wierd limitations on us... at least, I feel these limitations on me. For example, because neither of us wants anyone in the company to know anything about our trysts, there is a certain omen that hangs above us -- whenever we're together, even if for innocuous breaks or lunch, there's a sense of "what are they thinking? are they on to us?". So the concealing goes beyond our spouses, beyond our coworkers, it reaches to our selves. The holding back has begun. This is the end of freedom. At least for now. It's funny, when we first admitted our attractions to one another, he stated "it's in God's hands" in response to me questioning his Catholic virtues/guilt. I can't help but think of the irony here. Along M's path to sin (in his opinion), God has intervened many times (this being my interpretation of all the frustrated attempts to get together) saving him from himself, probably eventually putting him on the righteous path back to being a great husband and a wonderful daddy. Now all of this creates the circumstance for me to find personal freedom, not in sinning because I don't hold to Christian concepts of sin and the Sinner, but freedom in beauty, in creation, in expression of free flowing love and in the virtue of two people searching within each other, to connect, to learn something, and touch Something Other.

3) superman. H and I watched the new movie. Discussion ensued. Comparisons flew around the room like a flock of pigeons set loose in a studio apartment. He teased, half-joking, half-serious, that I am Lois Lane, and he is my safe, secure, loving, adoring husband -- unfortunately, not my superman. That superman stands for a freedom that lives beyond time, beyond convention, beyond civil mores of marriage. And how sad that makes him, to know that he is not my superman. That he is not that sense of freedom. Is he correct? Is it true? I suppose many who have been following my journey may see the posture as truth. That of course, this is the reason why I am doing what I am doing, for in the nature of the bonds of marriage, a certain freedom must be set aside, in love, in friendship, in respect, in the Embodied Relationship. That marriage and Freedom in Love must be mutually exclusive. At the time, my response probably didn't encourage any hopes in him that perhaps he actually is my superman. I was more realistic in my approach, rather than supportive. But having meditated on this for quite some time now, I feel that in many more ways than not, he is my Ultimate Freedom. That is, if it weren't for the man he is, I don't think I would be putting forth these efforts to exploring the types of freedoms I've taken. H may not be superman clad in blue, but I do believe he's more of a back-alley type of superhero -- a DareDevil kind of guy who has his superpowers silently charaded behind what seems to be a debilitating handicap.

4) I am (and always will be) seen as a woman, in my vocation. It's probably nigh impossible for me to just go after work and have some beer with the boys. Every man who is married is worried what the wife would think. Everyone who is single doesn't have the guts to ask a married woman out for a drink. (How improper!) Can it truly be that the first thing on each of these men's minds in regard to me is lascivious, and therefore detrimental to their marriages? So I'm not "one of the guys", my sex appeal is too strong. H says that to me all the time -- I could never befriend a coworker, because they really just want to get in my pants, no matter if they're married or not. My personal philosophy is that people should just have sex when they want it, between friends, between lovers, between whomever -- it doesn't get in the way. In fact, NOT having sex is what actually gets in the way. Left to the imagination, universes of fantasy and thereby fear, embarassment, loss of genuine truth, can create a huge divide. Once sex happens, if it's good, then great! Let it happen again, if you wish. If it's not so hot, then accept it and move on with the friendship. There doesn't have to be a problem here. If two people are sincerely honest in their desire for intimacy, even as "just friends", then a misled hop in the sack really shouldn't get in the way of anything.

5) He must have been dreaming about me too. My other coworker -- the one I dreamt about while on holiday -- gave me such a warm welcome back to work. With a great big smile, those bright shining blue eyes, and a surprisingly gentle hug, he greeted me. And I admit, I was delighted to see him too. Let's call him C. He's always been super friendly, as I mentioned earlier. But as time goes on, he's also getting more flirtatious, more playful, and more intimate. He's one of the few people I don't mind -- barely even notice -- how close he stands to me, within my personal circle, breaking the elbow-distance, no-go safety-comfort zone. It's not just a physical attraction that allows that barrier-crossing. It's something about intimacy. Oh yeah, did I mention he's married? Ooh, and I definitely forgot to mention that when I first started with this company, going crazy with sexual arousal, one of my very first fantasies at work involved me and M and C behind closed doors. It still gets me worked up when I think about it. Perhaps I'll write about that soon enough. (Coincidental sidenote: I never thought about this before... but the numbers are starting to add up... my H is balding -- the once-very-high-forehead steadily creeps higher; B has fully shaved his head for a number of years now; C also fully shaves his head, and rubs it often. Do I have a thing for bald men? I once read that genetically bald or balding men have statistically higher levels of testosterone in their system. Which means high sex drive, big ego=confidence, very competitive. Is it the confidence that allows these men to approach me, where others won't? Can I smell the testosterone as an aphrodisiac? Is it that I need and desire a worthy opponent? Hmmm.)

H & Holiday

2006-07-04T22:03:00.000-04:00

I wrote this in my journal about two weeks ago...
----------------------------
After my 4-week bout of The Return to Singledom, spending time with H has taken some reacquaintancing. In addition to basic spousal issues, we've also been amidst the company of my family (whom we've been visiting) and H's daughter (who flew here to visit with us). Not to mention, our scheduling has been dominated by factors outside of our control -- if it were entirely up to us, we'd have made absolutely zero plans with anyone, leaving our days free to do whatever we should please. Between the pressures of fulfilling familial roles of father, mother, son, daughter, neice, cousin, etc., we've rarely found the precious moments to be husband and wife in a kind and compassionate fashion. Very soon, all of these rather unfamiliar roles will fall to the side and we shall once again have the pleasure of relating to one another in terms familiar to us -- the alone us.

Naturally, I have also stolen moments on my own to reminisce about my recent exploits. My senses run through their cellular memory, charging and neutralizing the signals in whatever patterns necessary to remind me of these amazing experiences-not to be forgotten. I've been flooded with mental images of my encounters with other men. I recently had a dream about another coworker to whom I've been attracted for quite some time now. Yet, through the veil of misty reminders of what once ocurred, I'm also realizing that every day alone with my H puts all my OPs that much further aside. As the days go by, I'm finding it more and more difficult to conjure up the same level of intense sensations as were overcoming me only a few weeks ago.

It could be that I am so presently here with H that the reality of what's awaiting me at home seems an entirely different universe in time, space, and relation. Being here with H has been good. We've been able to work through a lot of the stressful issues that we've been experiencing, and we are able to have a good time also. I haven't found it that difficult to keep these things private that need to remain private. I am wary of using his laptop still, but I've been managing. I am also worried about H discovering my written journal. He has read my writings previously without my knowledge, so I know there is some danger there. But in conversations, and interactions between us, I've had no problem leaving out the unecessary details.

I am still ultimately unsure of how long I am going to allow all of this to continue. Whatever the case, I know that however it should play itself out, the decisions that arise will be made based on sincerity and generosity of spirit -- not obligation, or resentment or guilt.

After a brief pause...

2006-06-28T22:43:00.000-04:00

I have wanted to write on this blog for quite some time now, but have had very little opportunity to do so, given my decision to leave my laptop at home whilst traveling abroad. In the meanwhile, I'm using my H's computer, and I'm super paranoid about leaving any kind of electronic evidence that may lead him here. My other option (which is just as risky) is to write, using pen & paper, and then typing it up later when I get a chance to go to an internet cafe alone. All that aside, here are some recent thoughts I've been having...

The evening before I left for holiday, I was delighted by an "overnighter" with B. Somehow fate wrapped her delicate fingers around our tentative plans and secured us a full-blown evening filled with amazingly pleasing sexual activities. On the car ride to our destination, I was on such edge, tingling and bursting with an intense desire to devour him. I was wearing a silky, flowing dress that comes just below my knees but for some reason, in the car it kept hiking up higher and higher. Immediately B had his hand between my knees and it seemed almost just as quickly his hand had worked its way up to the flesh of my thighs. With such balance of drift and pressure, he was able to vascillate between stroking and squeezing my thigh to using just the edge of his palm to caress my super-sensitive clit. I was in heaven. I think just that lightest touch, if maintained for a good length of time, could probably make me cum a damned good orgasm.

When we arrived at the hotel, B grabbed me around the waist, sat me down on his lap and began finger fucking me from behind. This combination of forceful decisiveness and yearning to please is something I go absolutely weak for. To fall submissive to someone else's passionate desire to please you and tempt you is one of the most amazing feelings in the world. We were both starving so we had a quick fuck before heading off for dinner. Just enough to soothe the itch, but still leaving you hungering for more. And more is exactly what we got after dinner. Woohoo Mamma! I can't even remember how many times we went at it. A lot. It was amazing, stunning, new, beautiful, joyous, fun, delicious, and so much more.

As I write this, it strikes me how my attractions and developing interactions with these various individuals are all at completely different harmonies from one another. (I originally was going to use the term "stages" in place of harmonies, but "stages" implies a predetermined sequence or course of feelings and motions that people go through, all toward the same end -- together, usually monogamous, forever, happily ever after. This is a concept I'm trying to steer far clear of.) These men, with whom I've chosen to engage in something beyond mere friendships, have found their ways into my life from all different angles, carrying all sorts of different baggage, thereby creating [with me] absolutely differing situations, with different implicit limitations and wholly different styles of relationships. It's exciting, exhilirating, frenetic, sometimes daunting, but what's most stuck in my head right now -- incomparable. Not only is this experience incomparable to anything I've ever been through before, it embodies the idea of Incomparability. Each person is a universe unto him/herself -- so many discoveries, hidden passions, secret caves to explore; so much beingness to touch, caress, and grasp. And the fact that they allow me into their lives to experience such richness, I see as a privilege, to be treasured, honored and respected.

Vacation Time

2006-06-14T21:56:00.000-04:00

Tonight is the last chance I'll have to write anything of substance, for quite some time. I'm headed off to a tropical paradise, where my H and I like to spend our summers. Time to rejuvenate, rest, relax, and fall in love some more. This country I'll be visiting is where we spent the first year of our life together, and have spent some time every year thereafter; where we made countless hours of love; where poetry was written, and song was sung; where we blossomed together year after year. We thoroughly need this time together, and I'm looking forward to every minute of it.

These next three weeks will be the biggest test of my ability to handle this new dual-life of mine. In a way, I've been spoiled because of H's absence. I've been living like I'm single, no questions to answer, no long nights to account for, no worries about strange phone calls at odd hours. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to deal with the practical side of it all once H returns in my life full-time again. What I foresee is: retreat, rebound, retreat, rebound, retreat, rebound, ad infinitum. This is in fact my typical pattern with friends and loved ones currently, so why not with lovers?

Speaking of which... I'll be spending the whole evening tomorrow with B! A treat indeed. We really have so much fun together, even aside from the sex (though I'm not quite sure if sex is ever separate from our interactions... it's really always there, even if we're not engaged in it at the time). I'm really looking forward to having a nice leisurely time with him, not rushed by schedules or location. I'm particularly interested in slowly taking in his whole body, taking my time pleasing him and kissing him all over, finding those *super* sensitive spots that are distinct on each person. I can't wait to lick his neck and breathe in his ear, and tease his cock by brushing against him softly without applying much pressure. Thank god the Crazy Fuck is out of my system, because I want tomorrow evening to go on and on and on and on.

Yesterday I had a scary moment, when I felt like I wasn't excited about these affairs anymore. It was the strangest thing. Like the bottom of my being just opened up and all of me fell out of me. Though brief, it was an intense experience nonetheless. I felt like if nothing ever came of any of this ever again, I'd be fine. That nothing has changed and that nothing will change. It was a glimpse into a very present, very consistent state of my fundamental stability-core. And it was completely opposite of the rushing, charging, bull-headed, passionate frenzy that I've been reeling and thrashing about in lately. I used to get this way a LONG time ago, when I was much younger. Times when all I could do was masturbate all day long. The total consumption of pleasure-seeking that always led to this thwack! drop in my level of Living-ness. Like a visceral mini-depression, I'd lay about, wanting to feel again, but instead I just hit a big wall of nothing. Wow, I wonder what a psychologist reading these accounts would think... how would I be analyzed? I probably should go and find a good therapist somewhere...

Eh, fuck that. I've got better things to do with my time.

Until next month, my very curious friends, I bid thee farewell. Perhaps I shall return speaking another language of long-lost memories and other unexplored frontiers. Perhaps I'll just pick up where I left off. Either way, it's to the will o' the wisps I go. Adieu.

Bad Girl Sexy

2006-06-12T20:38:00.000-04:00

Got this blogthing from Crimson:

You Are Bad Girl Sexy

Girl, you are nothing but trouble. And that's hot.
You've got the classic bad girl sexiness mojo going on.
And your badass attitude makes men fear you - and crave you.
Don't give into people who say to tone it down. You're perfect as is.

What Kind of Sexy Are You?

That about sums it up! What can I say? Though it was a close tie with this:

You Are Independent Sexy

You drive men crazy with your "playing hard to get act"
Except, it's really not an act at all.
You're a strong, sexy woman with her own life and interests.
And that makes men even more interested in you!

What Kind of Sexy Are You?

What do you think?

Double-L Lovers, mmm-Hmmm!

2006-06-10T20:47:00.000-04:00

When things go as you might expect, always expect something different just around the corner. My supposedly "viable prospect" of an evening with M ended up being non-existent; so many empty promises, unfulfilled desires, even more tempting delays in action. So I took my dilemma into my own hands, so to speak. When I finally gave up on the idea that I would indeed get a phone call from him, I decided to bust out my Trusty Blue. That's what I'm calling my new toy -- the DP wonder. What a nice time I had...

In all of our playing at work, M & I have only recently ventured into actual skin-contact between hands and nether-regions. Obviously due to circumstance, it's pretty damned difficult to a) get any decent amount of clothing off of one another and b) get away from work AND away from spousal suspicion to actually get anywhere around the "bases". Hence, the prolonged excitement; hence, the feeling of being transported back in time when it was SO naughty to be doing these things. So the other day when M was exploring my pussy with his fingers, he noted how small I am -- that is, how tight I am. Granted, when I'm aroused, I do swell up a lot, making me pretty damned tight, but I also can get pretty wet with my arousal as well. Seeing as how *THICK* he is, as I've previously mentioned, he expressed concern about not being able to fuck me... it might feel too good for him? That he may not last?

As a woman, I can definitively say that men across the board (if they're at all concerned about their partner's pleasure) are insecure, to some degree, about their ability to hold off on an orgasm. I've always felt bad about this. It makes sex seem like such a chore! The mental games that are played, just to keep it under wraps, the terrible images, the level of concentration... how can it be at all pleasant for the guy? I've also been on the receiving end of the "minute-man", and felt differing responses. There have been times (situations or even the duration of an entire relationship) when disappointment has arisen. But I think -- in ALL honesty -- for the most part, it hasn't bothered me in the least. That's probably the case because I've been so fortunate to have had wonderful lovers, so in tune with the very act of love-making that we are thoroughly focused on the experience itself. Climax is great, and I sure do have some remarkable ones! But when you can live every second of every moment deep in the kiss, in the bead of sweat that trickles between the two of you, in the salty-sweet taste of your lover's lip, in the musty aroma of shared fluids, then the sex itself is a prolonged version of Orgasm. Sex allows for THE heightened awareness that humans have full capability of experiencing, but choose not to, in daily interactions. So when you do give yourself the space to enjoy these superhuman, extraordinary sensitivities, it is in fact a climax, above all other day-to-day, ordinary life-living.

And how did the unexpected arise? (Aside from newly discovering my g-spot with the Trusty Blue, which I previously thought was way out of reach on my body) I had the privilege of meeting up with B today. And boy did the unexpected rain down on me with such pleasant surprise! The plans we made to get together were relatively last-minute, and there was somewhat of a snafu with the scheduling, but after a tiny bit of patience, the return was well worth the wait! After a great conversation over a snack & brew, we found ourselves all hot and bothered and wanting to be all over each other. Married & adulterous combines to force a new appreciation for public spaces (and seeking the kind that are publicly accessible, yet somewhat secluded). It was by way of miracle that after a long, super hot, tantalizingly sexy drive, we found the perfect spot to stop and have our ways with one another. The sun was beaming on us, our bodies hot, sweaty and desiring the other in such extravagance! The sex was incredible, even as cramped as we were, scrunched up inside a car. Yeah, that was just amazing.

How is it possible that I could be so lucky?