Jesus I want this. Fucking hot.
Question.. is this a female dominated fantasy? Because I have never had a man try this with me…
*You might have to click on it to get the gif to work.*
staying in between the lines..
I had a bit of a revelation. I can’t say that I didn’t already know it, or that it is a big deal. My thoughts have just been swept away by it. Before I got married, I was always able to satisfy my curiosity. If I met a man, found him interesting, attractive, I wanted to know.. Know how he’d feel against me, how he’d feel in me, how his mouth would kiss mine. Where his hands would stray, what conversations we may have. Overall just general curiosity, a yearning for knowledge of people.
I’ve been thinking, just because I satisfied that with one man, making a decision to keep learning him for an undetermined amount of time, the need for knowledge of others did not go away. I’ve found myself slipping slightly back into my previous character, doing things or wanting to do things that I haven’t done in years. Touching for no reason, itching to shock people with inappropriate statements, really just take my flirtatious self to the next level.
I know that the need to satisfy is always there. Even if it lay almost dormant for years, I doubt it’s something that will go away. It’s a part of the person that I am. I can’t feel wrong about that.
Every late Saturday night or early Sunday morning, it’s a ritual for me to check Postsecret. Last night, this one was a few down, and I was struck with thoughts. How many people have been through something similar to this?
I know that while the things I may want possibly seem tame, my very vanilla husband, can’t quite grasp any understanding of them. It’s been over a year and a half since I first mentioned that I was interested by “open” relationships. I had always joked about interest in women, but I also brought that to the forefront. After the huge fight we had, where I thought I honestly might leave, we kinda just dropped it. But it has consistently hung over us like some dirty fog. Anytime anything even remotely related to people going outside of their relationships is mentioned, he gets almost furious. The interest in women bothers him less, but I feel it definitely still grates a little.
I wonder how long this will stay with us. The fact that I was open and honest, and he shut me down. Pretty much acting as if there was something wrong with me. I wonder about the secret writer, does it still hang over him or did she actually believe he was joking?
I know other people who have dealt with similar things, and I think it leads to resentment on the part of the honest party. When you love someone, and that person can’t love you for who you are… It’s sad.
I listen to Tool probably too much, but this is my current favorite song of any at the moment. I relate it to myself, opening myself, exploring. Learning that there is a possibility of things lying dormant within me.
Since my mind has been blank of creativity lately, thought I’d share one of my favorite songs. I have known this song for years, and it’s always stuck with me. No matter how many times I listen to it, there’s always room for more.
“He sang of the first permission of flesh and flesh to entangle
how we abandon the guard of our heart and throw our borders
open and welcome a sweet invader to take possession
the sudden exquisite catch in a throat and the slow hush
of a breath unfettered the sweetest sounds to a lover’s ear
He sang of hands finding shyly at first their way
to another shelf of hips oh how the heart flares
and melts like wax spilling over a candle’s lip”
I can’t get Craig Arnold’s words out of my mind the last few weeks. Re-reading poems again and again..
The most common sexual conversation the Hubs and I have been having for around six months is the debate of anal sex. I’ve always felt myself an open and adventurous person but this has consistently been a ‘no’ coming out of my mouth. A little backstory..
When I was eighteen, bright eyed and curious, I had a ‘friends with benefits’ situation with a twenty-three year old. He had obviously done a lot more than I had, and was very open with his past to me. I knew that a previous girlfriend and he had done anal frequently. I was interested, intrigued. Finally one night I decided to give it a try. A little liquor in me, (but in no way intoxicated) I felt ready.
Here’s the thing, I barely remember the lead up, or even much about it. Other than the fact that it was extremely painful. I ponder now if there wasn’t enough lube, if I just wasn’t ready, if he wasn’t the right one to try it with. I do remember that he was very gentle and understanding, once the tears sprang from my eyes he withdrew. Never did we try again.
This was seven years ago, and I can’t get over it. I can’t push away the memory of how horrid it was. Even though I really want to try it, my paranoia is overtaking my desire. I’ve told the Hubs that when I am ready, I will definitely let him know. He is a somewhat of a flip-flopper on this subject. While we fuck he begs me to stick it in my ass, then later will say he was just fucking around. He’s used his fingers some, normally I am okay, sometimes I have to tell him to stop. I have even told him that his cock is so big it intimidates me. Yet, I love for him to just touch it, for him to fuck me doggie style his body hitting into it hard, or pushing my ass cheeks apart.
This is definitely the one thing I am trying to open my mind to. Even buying some expensive new lube recently, hoping to let him know, it won’t be long now…
Occasionally a song will be so sexy, it actually makes me wet. This is one of those songs. I can’t help but move my hips and imagine what it would be like to give a lap dance or ride a guy to the sound of it..
There you were on the other side of the door. Smiling widely at first sight. Your top shirt buttons undone, relaxed you walked in. The light was on, yet dim near the door. I was barefoot, boy shorts peeking from under my satin cami. You lightly grasped the hair framing my face, twirling your fingers through the strands. Leaning in, your lips brushed my cheek in shy greeting. Visibly arrested my skin pebbled at the moment of contact.
I ran my fingers along the collar of your shirt, then down to the first confined button. They deftly worked each button open, memorizing the feel of your body on my way down. Tugging your shirt out of your pants. The smooth leather of your belt sliding free of each notch. As I got your pants undone, your fingers trailed my neck down to the satin covering my breast, my nipple already hard as your finger found it over the tank. We stood for a moment just staring, your pants gone, shirt open.
You reached for the back of my neck, pulling me to you, lips finding. Mouths open, hot and scorching. You kissed me thirsty with need. Our bodies pressed together, you found the bottom curve of my ass, your thumb stroking, hand grabbing. I strained against you, the evidence of your desire apparent. My body shook, ready, wanting. You pulled my shorts off, and knelt to kiss my nipple over the tank. Leaving a wet mark, and my mouth sighing.
Unable to take any more, the rest of our clothes discarded. The city lights were twinkling outside the huge window. You turned me around to look out, standing behind me. Your body curved into mine, mouth close to my ear, “How many people do you suppose are watching?”
I couldn’t answer, my ass grinding against you, wanting you to know, I was ready. You moved in me with ease, hard and silky. My hand found balance, open flat pressed to the window pane. I could barely catch my breath as your hands gripped my hips, then my breasts. I reveled in the feel of your body, hot with lust, meeting mine with each thrust.