Something I’ve gotten away from
I’m not sure why or when, but I used to post about personal stuff in addition to my sex photos. I’ve never wanted to be just a fuck blog or portray myself as one dimensional. After talking with my Husband about it I’ve decided to start doing that again. Obviously sex is a huge part of my life and I am an exhibitionist, so I’m still going to post photos, but I’ll also be posting about the rest of me. For those that don’t like my personal posts, then ignore them.
There are a lot of things I could post about, but something inside me says I should start with my relationship with my husband. That’s right I used a lowercase h instead of the upper like I usually do. My Husband is the man I’m exploring aspects of power play with in a BDSM context. My husband is the man I fell in love with, married, had children with, and bare my soul to. Same man, different things.
First, I am lucky beyond belief. Not because he’s the greatest man on earth (he isn’t, but I love him anyway). I am lucky because I am in love with someone that loves me back. Because my needs are met and my misfortunes are mostly petty, upper middle class gripes that are insulting to those with real misfortune. Because I have the luxury of not having to work when so many others worry if they can afford rent and decide what bills they can’t pay this month.
And yet I have the same emotions as everyone else. I have insecurities and feel emotional pain. Sometimes I get angry and yell. I can act stupidly and feel embarrassed. What I want my blog to show is that I am human. A woman that is sexual, strong, frail, confused, confident, and flawed like everyone else and not because I do porn or fuck a lot. My husband told me that to do all that I need to share more than I am comfortable with. He’s right.
Monday afternoon my husband and I were making love. At least I thought it was making love, with tender touches and kisses. As my husband came he said I was a wonderful whore. I laid their with him between my legs feeling so hurt. When we fuck I tell him how much I love being his whore and get wet hearing him tell me I’m only a fuck toy for his cock. That’s the beauty of sex. It’s a sport, a way of saying hello, a welcome home, a get better soon card, and an expression of love. I wanted the expression of love and instead I was a whore for his sport.
That night and all the next day I withdrew emotionally and avoided my husband. I found errands to do away from home and away from him. When I got home I had more errands to do instead of saying hello. He started asking if anything was wrong. I smiled, said no, and started another errand away from him. We didn’t have sex that entire day (we usually have sex 2 - 3 times a day). By night time he began pressing me to tell him what was wrong. I wanted to scream at him that I was more than just a whore to stick his dick in. Instead I said nothing.
Things escalated quickly and he left our bed with the words “Fuck you and your not talking about how you feel.” Or something to that effect. I felt panic and anger. I want his approval badly. I want his love and respect and I felt hurt. I made myself go after him. At first I sat there and wouldn’t speak, which made him angrier. When I did start to speak, I realize in hindsight, that I wasn’t listening.
At first I avoided the real reason I had been distant and told him I felt confused and maybe it was the progesterone I had recently started taking. He was still angry and kept saying “Bullshit!”, which started making me angry. Finally I snapped and told him it was because I wanted to be more than just his “whore” and how much it hurt when he called me that when we were making love.
He had no idea what I was talking about. We had fucked the day before, but didn’t remember making love. His position was that he didn’t know I wanted to make love instead of fuck and that if he had known he would never had said those words. My position was that I had caressed him and kissed him and he had returned those caresses and kisses - we were making love. Finally he began to calm down and I began to listen.
The tender kisses we exchanged while making love was passionate fucking to him. I assumed he could see what I wanted, but never told him I wanted to make love. In my hurt I lashed out and tried to hurt him back by emotionally withdrawing. In response he lashed out with angry, hurtful words. But now we were talking and listening. I asked him to come back to bed with me and he took my hand. I laid him on the bed and told him what a dirty little whore I had been and asked if he wanted to stick his dick in me. He laughed and kissed me hard and then we fucked. And the next morning we made love.
I’m 42 and married for 19 years. I have a hard time talking about my emotions or dealing with another person’s anger. I get defensive and stop listening. But we work hard at being a better couple. We want to stay in love and married. I want him to be so in love with me that I don’t have to tell him when I want to make love, but that’s not how relationships work. Only I know how I really feel and I have to communicate if I want others to know. I know this. I just wish I did it more often. Especially with the man I love so much.