I knew it was going to be intense, that reclaiming. I knew he wasn't happy with my attitude. I knew he needed my submission to him like the garden needs water. I knew that when things in his life felt like they were spinning out of control, he'd turn to me, and forcibly wrest that control back.
He didn't disappoint.
I haven't written about it, even though it happened awhile ago now. It was more than my mind could process at the time, really. And I felt something inside of me change. I thought for a little bit that maybe he'd finally broken me in some fundamental way, but it wasn't that. It was that he frightened me perhaps, although I won't lie and and say I'm scared of him. I'm frightened, however, of the completeness of his mastery over me.
Master has always afforded me a great amount of freedom and independence. His Dominance has always been quite cerebral and complex, an intricate series of whispered desires and commands woven together like a medieval tapestry. Images, wishes, and instructions combined to form stories and fantasies beyond my wildest imaginings. His preference to be in my head all the time so that there is no thought I have that he isn't a part of, and he can see and understand what I am thinking without my needing to say anything. Then we'd come back to the real world and Satan would just be Satan, and Lilith would just be Lilith, and each of us would respect our roles, but not overly complicate matters by needing to assert our status as D/s. We were just comfortable to know that ours was an insidious relationship, that our very natures afforded us the ability to claim 24/7 status in our lifestyle. In reclaiming his role as Master, however, he took us to a new level in that lifestyle.
We were supposed to have had wild tent sex two nights prior, but the weather didn't cooperate with us at all. A series of apocalyptic thunder storms rolled through and deluged the backyard, making setting up a tent on the lawn a non-issue. Then work schedules ramped up, and it was a couple more days before I could see him again. He didn't want to travel to me, he wanted me to come to him. He wanted HIS turf, HIS private space. He wanted to be in HIS comfort zone. So I settled matters at home with all my dependents, making sure they were good for the night and headed out.
Satan generally objects to harsh discipline with me because he doesn't like to hurt me. He knows that I was once a pain slut for Jachin, and he never wants me to go back to that again. He wants me responsive to his hand because I'm genuinely turned on by him, not because I'm getting the snot beat out of me. He wants me to know that there is no place I can run to escape him because he claims my mind first and foremost. But when I got to his house, a little bit late, he'd been enjoying some Jim Beam. Jim Beam takes those inhibitions he has about not wanting to be forceful away. So suddenly he was radiating power and wanting to make good use of it. He wanted to own his rightful place in my life as my administrator of discipline.
We kissed and he made short work of my clothes. He got himself naked and pulled the comforter off the bed, threw a pillow on the floor and told me to kneel for him. I did as my Dom commanded, and he fed me his cock, working his cock inside my mouth, and rapidly getting it into my throat. He fucked my mouth at his leisure, enjoying his pace, sometimes slow and deep, sometimes fast and hard always loving the feeling of my throat contracting on him as he made me gag. He likes to see my mouth juicy when I gag, likes to see ribbons of spit flowing down my chin as I service him. He was so damn hard, and so thick it was difficult to have him in my mouth and be open enough to not scrape or hurt him. There are occasions when his cock goes from being simply bbc to truly enormous. His excitement at Mastering me was driving him hard, and he led me by the hair to get onto the bed, and told me to tuck tight so he could fuck my very wet pussy doggy style. He started to slap my ass, making it sting, and continuing to get the same spot until it really smarted. He'd roll his hand around my now very long hair and yank my head back to pull me up to him so he could bite my shoulder and neck. The thought of him mating me in that way always excites me into a frenzy. That he can lock his teeth into the meat of my shoulder and continue to drive his cock into me hard is usually enough to make me squirt on him like a bitch in heat.
He stopped then, perceivably to give us a break for a minute, and to go and find a spool of shoe lacing he had. He'd decided it was time for us to attempt some bondage, and he wanted to experiment with binding my breasts. So he wrapped them repeatedly, and tightly, until they were rather throbbing, and slightly achy. He looked at his handiwork, and he was turned on. He administered discipline to my breasts, he grabbed and held tightly, and he sucked the nipples into his mouth tight and deep, sometimes drawing a bloodmark to the surface with his intensity. I won't lie and say I'm a woman who can cum simply by having her nipples sucked. However, it did feel damn good and turn me on as well. Seeing him suckling me, well, lets just say that feeds a deep seeded fantasy of mine of wanting to be able to breast feed my man. I can't think of anything sexier than someone drawing sustenance from your breast while drawing your pleasure out from your pussy with his hand or cock. He laid me down then, holding my tits in his hands while he slammed his cock back up into my pussy. Slowly, his hand crept up to my neck, and his thumb found it's familiar nook on my jaw while his fingers began to press on my trachea. Breathplay is one of his favorite games during sex. He's very skilled at it, and he says my pussy grips him incredibly tightly while he's mastering me that way. He loves that I don't fight him during it, that I'd allow him life or death, his discretion. That trust thing, it's what the D/s is all about. He doesn't aim to hurt me, not really. He'd rather get into my head so that I can't escape from him even when he's not with me.
It's a peculiar sensation when you are reduced to feeling only two things in your body....the point of entry of your Master's cock, and His hand wrapped around your throat controlling the very air you breath. I could feel the glide of his very thick cock, it was easy, gentle, all about the constant motion of in and out....frictionless and smooth. Yet his hand would tighten it's grip and he would take one colossal moment to slam it incredibly deep so that I'd have to gasp, and he would tighten that hand a little more. His eyes are closed when he does this, his knowledge of my body and my responses so intimate that he can go by feel alone. Yet when he opens his eyes and sees me watching him, he gets a little ticked. Perhaps he thinks if I'm observing, I'm not participating to the level he wants me. He knows well my penchant for escaping mentally, and he will beat me to bring me back into the moment. For that reason he will hurt me....to bring me back to him.
So I had my eyes open, because watching him pleasure himself on my body is a work of art.....he is so beautiful. But he knew if my mind was taking flights of fancy, that I was a thousand miles away in my mental blog, and not any where near him in His room, and that he risked fucking a shell while I was composing blogs and poetry in my head. His hand left my throat and I pulled in air quickly, and his hand descended again to leave it's print on my cheek. He spit at me then, and he destroyed my pride. And he continued a combination of the both until I was there again, crying and hurting, and stunned......
He shattered me with orgasm after orgasm. Fucking my ass until I came and until he made me dirty, and then forcing my mouth onto his filthy cock to clean it. He fisted my pussy until lights danced behind my eyes and I was begging him to stop, begging him to not kill me with another orgasm, and still he'd push me to one more. He fucked my pussy and poured his urine inside of me, then sprayed me with it so that I was covered in his pheromone. He'd push my leg up and back and fuck me until the cum squirting out of my pussy was a constant jet, running in streams down his torso. He'd gulp a mouthful of my cum, and spit it into my mouth for me to swallow. He'd bite and suck and leave his mark where everyone would see it, makeup be damned. Every humiliation, every depravity that you can imagine short of cutting and branding me...he practiced them all.
And my shame? I loved all of it, wanted more of it.
And so, now that I realize that I am not broken, that I am remade, and I am truly owned....I find myself stronger and more dedicated to my service. I am my Master's dirty whore.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Switch
I wrote Malcolm a letter a couple of weeks ago. Things hadn't been going very smoothly for us, again, and it just felt like it was time to write out the challenges, and see if there was any hope of fixing any of them. Our relationship is rocky, usually with me getting fed up at being last in his life after baby mommas and brothers and sisters, and usually after he lets me down repeatedly. The bright spot is that neither of us has ever doubted the level of love the other has. I know he loves me, and he knows I love him gobs. But when is love just not enough?
So, it was at the last party that I decided that although I loved Malcolm to distraction, and hadn't quite figured out what to do about the problem he is, that he was an absolutely horrendous boyfriend. I decided to call it quits, and just call a spade a spade...we were friends with benefits. He's a fabulous friend, and a decidedly superior benefit. But I couldn't seem to make the jump to call us boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.
He really hated that.
The problem for me is that he is the ultimate lover. Really, unless I take great time and pain to train someone new, it's all a step down. And most men aren't all that interested in learning a woman. They want quick satisfaction, they want to leave their mark on the runway, and they want to get the hell out. Sad, but all too true. So I can literally fuck myself sick with hundreds of others, and never really get the quality of orgasm that he gives me...and gives me consistently and EVERY time. It leaves me feeling unsatisfied, and it makes me voracious for sex. It makes me want to be his filthy nasty whore.
He knows that, too.
We worked each other up over sexting all day, and couldn't wait for a decent time. I put my daughter to bed, accommodated for her care for the evening, and virtually ran to him. He's not unlike a spider in a web, watching me pull at my bonds to him. He gives me a certain amount of slack, then, when my anger fades and I start to tire of fighting him, he starts winding the cord tighter and tighter, until I'm back in his lair, and he's waiting to devour me. It wasn't much different this night. I stood there defiantly, like I have hundreds of times before. I hurled obscenities at him. I told him how many men I had fucked in his absence. I told him I had REVELED in my sexuality without him. He laughed, wrapped his hand in my hair and pulled my head back. As he paused, millimeters away from my lips, he whispered my shame to me; "Not one of them made you cum like I do." He covered my mouth with his, and forced his tongue into my mouth, fucking my mouth with it like a promise of all the other holes he'd fuck very soon. When we came up for air, I told him that I hated him for that, so he wound my hair tighter in his hand, and said "They'll never know you the way I do.".
He made me suck his cock deep in to my throat, never letting go of my hair. He set the rhythm, he determined how deep or how fast. This was his show, he was Dom, and he wasn't going to relent until I knew who I belonged to. Period. He raised his hand to discipline me, and he bent me over the bed so that he could fuck me like the slut I am. He demanded I tell him who I belong to. Not tonight, I would not cave tonight. "FUCK YOU!" Slap, Smack. "WHO DO YOU BELONG TO BITCH?" "FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!!" Slap Smack Backhand. "TELL ME WHO DO YOU BELONG TO WHORE?" "ABSOLUTELY NOBODY FUCKER!!" The discipline increased in intensity, designed to break me, designed to make me heel. He even slammed his cock into my ass without prep, knowing it is excruciating to take his massive cock like that. But I was too enraged, I could not submit, not this night.
He rolled me over, and fucked me missionary, fusing our mouths together, kissing me until breathing was as much a being a part of him as fucking him was. He moaned, and said "FUCK ME your pussy is SO DAMN GOOD!" "Isn't it though", I said to him. "How much do you love my pussy?" "So much" he said, his eyes rolling up as I tightened and contracted over him. "Who do you belong to, Malcolm?" He stopped for a moment, and he actually broke. "You, I belong to you. I am your slave, I would do anything you asked me to do for you. I would lick your body, drink anything that came out of you, make you cum until you were satisfied."
And so we switched roles, with me becoming the Domme, and Malcolm becoming the sub. It's awkward, most days, but it works for us, for now. It won't last for long, his need to assert his dominance will return, and when it does there'll be hell to pay. But for the short term, I'm enjoying my new power.
So, it was at the last party that I decided that although I loved Malcolm to distraction, and hadn't quite figured out what to do about the problem he is, that he was an absolutely horrendous boyfriend. I decided to call it quits, and just call a spade a spade...we were friends with benefits. He's a fabulous friend, and a decidedly superior benefit. But I couldn't seem to make the jump to call us boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.
He really hated that.
The problem for me is that he is the ultimate lover. Really, unless I take great time and pain to train someone new, it's all a step down. And most men aren't all that interested in learning a woman. They want quick satisfaction, they want to leave their mark on the runway, and they want to get the hell out. Sad, but all too true. So I can literally fuck myself sick with hundreds of others, and never really get the quality of orgasm that he gives me...and gives me consistently and EVERY time. It leaves me feeling unsatisfied, and it makes me voracious for sex. It makes me want to be his filthy nasty whore.
He knows that, too.
We worked each other up over sexting all day, and couldn't wait for a decent time. I put my daughter to bed, accommodated for her care for the evening, and virtually ran to him. He's not unlike a spider in a web, watching me pull at my bonds to him. He gives me a certain amount of slack, then, when my anger fades and I start to tire of fighting him, he starts winding the cord tighter and tighter, until I'm back in his lair, and he's waiting to devour me. It wasn't much different this night. I stood there defiantly, like I have hundreds of times before. I hurled obscenities at him. I told him how many men I had fucked in his absence. I told him I had REVELED in my sexuality without him. He laughed, wrapped his hand in my hair and pulled my head back. As he paused, millimeters away from my lips, he whispered my shame to me; "Not one of them made you cum like I do." He covered my mouth with his, and forced his tongue into my mouth, fucking my mouth with it like a promise of all the other holes he'd fuck very soon. When we came up for air, I told him that I hated him for that, so he wound my hair tighter in his hand, and said "They'll never know you the way I do.".
He made me suck his cock deep in to my throat, never letting go of my hair. He set the rhythm, he determined how deep or how fast. This was his show, he was Dom, and he wasn't going to relent until I knew who I belonged to. Period. He raised his hand to discipline me, and he bent me over the bed so that he could fuck me like the slut I am. He demanded I tell him who I belong to. Not tonight, I would not cave tonight. "FUCK YOU!" Slap, Smack. "WHO DO YOU BELONG TO BITCH?" "FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!!" Slap Smack Backhand. "TELL ME WHO DO YOU BELONG TO WHORE?" "ABSOLUTELY NOBODY FUCKER!!" The discipline increased in intensity, designed to break me, designed to make me heel. He even slammed his cock into my ass without prep, knowing it is excruciating to take his massive cock like that. But I was too enraged, I could not submit, not this night.
He rolled me over, and fucked me missionary, fusing our mouths together, kissing me until breathing was as much a being a part of him as fucking him was. He moaned, and said "FUCK ME your pussy is SO DAMN GOOD!" "Isn't it though", I said to him. "How much do you love my pussy?" "So much" he said, his eyes rolling up as I tightened and contracted over him. "Who do you belong to, Malcolm?" He stopped for a moment, and he actually broke. "You, I belong to you. I am your slave, I would do anything you asked me to do for you. I would lick your body, drink anything that came out of you, make you cum until you were satisfied."
And so we switched roles, with me becoming the Domme, and Malcolm becoming the sub. It's awkward, most days, but it works for us, for now. It won't last for long, his need to assert his dominance will return, and when it does there'll be hell to pay. But for the short term, I'm enjoying my new power.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Play.SoME
Play.SoME Homepage
I attended a new party held in Sanford Maine, recently. Having given up on hosting for now while I care for my mother in her hospice days, I am excited to see some new talent emerge in the lifestyle. The two new hosts are caterers by day, and lease a very large hall in Sanford for their events. They pulled out all the stops on this, their first party, and really knocked it out of the ball park.
I arrived early to help, and alone since Malcolm and I were taking some time off from each other for a bit. I was invited as a guest only, but being a hostess for the last 2 years, it's hard to watch someone stressing over launching their first party and not want to step up and help them relax. I helped them with food prep, with bar-tending, with set up, with attendance. With all those little things that would assist them in getting themselves going and lessen the giant knot of tension growing between them as showtime drew nearer. It was a bit like watching myself for all those times I fell apart before an Affinity party. LOL, knowing that feeling, I couldn't just be another guest.
They had a respectable turnout for their first party....almost 50 guests came to dance, drink, chat, and hook up. There were many familiar faces, and many more new faces that were trying it out. The play room was really fantastic...it was approximately 10 Cabana Tents, all set up with lights and an air mattress in each. Some were private, all the tent sides down. A couple of the Cabanas were open, for people to watch and participate en masse. And there was the raised dais, a center stage for people that really wanted to make a show, or perhaps use the Sybian. It was simply beautiful, and it fired the imagination.
I had tons of fun bar backing and getting people alcohol. But I had more fun when I was relieved of duty, and got to change into my "play" clothes....and begin my wonderful night of debauchery.
I fucked more than a french whore that night. All manner of men...black, white, cross dressing....I took them all in never forgetting that the man who should have been there was seething at the thought of it. I so thoroughly enjoyed all of my encounters, and considered one or two of the men I met that night as potential candidates to add to my stable. But I didn't stay the night. When I was done, I changed, packed my bag, and left.....5:30 in the morning...for the long drive home.
Play.SoME is a work in progress, and a fabulous work it is. I highly recommend it as a great night out, and a better place to swing.
I attended a new party held in Sanford Maine, recently. Having given up on hosting for now while I care for my mother in her hospice days, I am excited to see some new talent emerge in the lifestyle. The two new hosts are caterers by day, and lease a very large hall in Sanford for their events. They pulled out all the stops on this, their first party, and really knocked it out of the ball park.
I arrived early to help, and alone since Malcolm and I were taking some time off from each other for a bit. I was invited as a guest only, but being a hostess for the last 2 years, it's hard to watch someone stressing over launching their first party and not want to step up and help them relax. I helped them with food prep, with bar-tending, with set up, with attendance. With all those little things that would assist them in getting themselves going and lessen the giant knot of tension growing between them as showtime drew nearer. It was a bit like watching myself for all those times I fell apart before an Affinity party. LOL, knowing that feeling, I couldn't just be another guest.
They had a respectable turnout for their first party....almost 50 guests came to dance, drink, chat, and hook up. There were many familiar faces, and many more new faces that were trying it out. The play room was really fantastic...it was approximately 10 Cabana Tents, all set up with lights and an air mattress in each. Some were private, all the tent sides down. A couple of the Cabanas were open, for people to watch and participate en masse. And there was the raised dais, a center stage for people that really wanted to make a show, or perhaps use the Sybian. It was simply beautiful, and it fired the imagination.
I had tons of fun bar backing and getting people alcohol. But I had more fun when I was relieved of duty, and got to change into my "play" clothes....and begin my wonderful night of debauchery.
I fucked more than a french whore that night. All manner of men...black, white, cross dressing....I took them all in never forgetting that the man who should have been there was seething at the thought of it. I so thoroughly enjoyed all of my encounters, and considered one or two of the men I met that night as potential candidates to add to my stable. But I didn't stay the night. When I was done, I changed, packed my bag, and left.....5:30 in the morning...for the long drive home.
Play.SoME is a work in progress, and a fabulous work it is. I highly recommend it as a great night out, and a better place to swing.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Aching
I'm so damn needy. Life has played it's fun and games, and Malcolm and I haven't had any...PERSONAL...time in 3 weeks. I see him, I kiss, I hug him, I smell him, I imagine him, I taste him on my lips. And I Ache for him.
The first week was the hardest. We both had some high emotions going on because of life circumstances, me with my mom and him with his move, we were cranky, and a bit vicious. I throbbed for him, and had this vague sense of dissatisfaction. This sense of loss and anger that had nothing to do with my mother being ill. I was pissed, I was needing my daddy.
The second week the ugly took over. I was bitchy, so was he. We'd pick fights with each other, and end them by apologizing and making promises for the next week. The sharpness of the ache became a constant dull pulsing in my pussy, a quiet need that never left. By the end of the second week I'd become able to make myself squirt by simply rubbing my clit and imagining his cock sliding inside me...slow and easy at first, gathering up all that wetness I make and just taking his time touching the back of me, his "french tickler" he calls it. My memory of him is so vivid that I can hear him and smell him when I make myself cum. But no amount of masturbating quells the need, just the opposite in fact. The more I rub one out, the more I need to cum, like watching the ocean when the tide is coming in. You can't stop it, it's going to come, recede, then come some more, and a little harder every time it slams the shore.
By the beginning of the 3rd week, we both had started to retreat. But we got to spend some time together, non-sexual time mind you, mid-week. I think it made matters worse. For me, the dull throb had retreated to where I wasn't really thinking about it so much. But to be next to him, to smell his pheromone, and kiss him and have that hormone enter my system again.....the need roared back to life. Between kids and repairmen though, we couldn't sate the need, and are still waiting.....both of us waiting to do something with this monster between us. This NEED is so consuming it seems to have a life of it's own. I know he brags about his eagerness to tame it, to tame ME again. He despises my aloofness when I get away from him for some time. He craves making me heel to him because his efforts cause my body to recognize it's master. He looks forward to claiming me and stating his ownership again.
So I sit here tonight thinking about sating the need. I have visions of endless amounts of cock pumping into every orifice on my body, slicking my body with loads and loads of cum. I want to be animal, existing for absolutely nothing but being fucked repeatedly. I want his cock up my ass while his teeth are sunk into the meat of my shoulder, where it meets the neck....and I want him to watch men pump their cocks in and out of my mouth while he pumps his in and out of my ass. I want to feel his hand on the back of my head forcing me down harder and deeper while his other hand encircles my throat waiting to feel that cock enter so deep. I want to be filled up with cum and watch him eat it out of me, watch him clean me, watch him make sure that the only smell that remains on my body is his. I want to do things with him that I am not allowed to speak about. More than anything I want him to watch me fuck indiscriminately. I want volume and variety. I want to be sex incarnate.
I'll go to bed tonight, and have an orgasm...or two...or maybe three or four. But the need will only build and become more consuming. I'm already wet.
The first week was the hardest. We both had some high emotions going on because of life circumstances, me with my mom and him with his move, we were cranky, and a bit vicious. I throbbed for him, and had this vague sense of dissatisfaction. This sense of loss and anger that had nothing to do with my mother being ill. I was pissed, I was needing my daddy.
The second week the ugly took over. I was bitchy, so was he. We'd pick fights with each other, and end them by apologizing and making promises for the next week. The sharpness of the ache became a constant dull pulsing in my pussy, a quiet need that never left. By the end of the second week I'd become able to make myself squirt by simply rubbing my clit and imagining his cock sliding inside me...slow and easy at first, gathering up all that wetness I make and just taking his time touching the back of me, his "french tickler" he calls it. My memory of him is so vivid that I can hear him and smell him when I make myself cum. But no amount of masturbating quells the need, just the opposite in fact. The more I rub one out, the more I need to cum, like watching the ocean when the tide is coming in. You can't stop it, it's going to come, recede, then come some more, and a little harder every time it slams the shore.
By the beginning of the 3rd week, we both had started to retreat. But we got to spend some time together, non-sexual time mind you, mid-week. I think it made matters worse. For me, the dull throb had retreated to where I wasn't really thinking about it so much. But to be next to him, to smell his pheromone, and kiss him and have that hormone enter my system again.....the need roared back to life. Between kids and repairmen though, we couldn't sate the need, and are still waiting.....both of us waiting to do something with this monster between us. This NEED is so consuming it seems to have a life of it's own. I know he brags about his eagerness to tame it, to tame ME again. He despises my aloofness when I get away from him for some time. He craves making me heel to him because his efforts cause my body to recognize it's master. He looks forward to claiming me and stating his ownership again.
So I sit here tonight thinking about sating the need. I have visions of endless amounts of cock pumping into every orifice on my body, slicking my body with loads and loads of cum. I want to be animal, existing for absolutely nothing but being fucked repeatedly. I want his cock up my ass while his teeth are sunk into the meat of my shoulder, where it meets the neck....and I want him to watch men pump their cocks in and out of my mouth while he pumps his in and out of my ass. I want to feel his hand on the back of my head forcing me down harder and deeper while his other hand encircles my throat waiting to feel that cock enter so deep. I want to be filled up with cum and watch him eat it out of me, watch him clean me, watch him make sure that the only smell that remains on my body is his. I want to do things with him that I am not allowed to speak about. More than anything I want him to watch me fuck indiscriminately. I want volume and variety. I want to be sex incarnate.
I'll go to bed tonight, and have an orgasm...or two...or maybe three or four. But the need will only build and become more consuming. I'm already wet.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Newbies
I'm not sure what's in the water lately. I've been approached on all fronts by so many new people that are contemplating entering the lifestyle that it makes my head spin. Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that people are expanding the box they live in and are daring to open up their relationships with their spouses and significant others. But it makes me wonder if there is a wash of boredom sweeping my area, or if the tough economy has simply driven people to need more in their lives in terms of diversion.
I think back to how I got into the lifestyle. It was college really, although we had no idea it's what we were doing. I went to art school, was a painting and fine arts major, and I set about expanding my mind as many ways as I could. It was a long ways for a girl that had been raised in small town Maine and attended 12 years worth of Catholic Schools. So we had free love and sex, big puppy piles of us all sleeping together, fucking, loving, and just living. We didn't know it was swinging, and truthfully, I don't consider that to be really swinging.
I first got into swinging when I was part of a committed couple with my ex, Jachin. He'd pushed for it, of course, and he knew that I'd been quite open minded in the past and had done 3sums and moresums. I'd never been with a woman sexually though, and I'd struggled with that aspect of my sexuality for years. Being mysteriously attracted to women, but always having a carnal love of men as well. So Jachin and I attended our first party at the Chalet Motel. It was a KnA party, WAYYYYYYY back before they'd remodeled their new location. I was nervous as hell, drank myself into a stupor, and stayed glued to Jachin's side like a Siamese twin all night. I was so uncomfortable with my own body, and I was sure I'd never be attractive to anyone in the lifestyle because of my weight. So many hangups, so little information.
We were lucky and met a really nice couple at that party that talked to us and let me know that my insecurities were simply products of my own mind. To some extent, that couple tried to mentor us as well as they could in such a boisterous and busy environment. Over the years I gained wisdom and information from other couples and hosts in the lifestyle that were wonderful sharing and caring people. But I made mistakes that could have been avoided if I'd known things on the front side of this endeavor.
I'm contemplating hosting a Newbie Boot Camp to provide that kind of information to people either thinking of joining the lifestyle, or to people who have and are struggling, or to people who's first impression was less than good. I really think arming people with info is the way to go to help them relax into this and enjoy themselves. Although all the information is available online, I think it would be an exciting venture to host it locally where people can meet experienced couples, meet with vendors who carry accessories, and learn about all the terms this lifestyle carries. Vanilla? Unicorn? BBW? Fetish? On Premise? Meet & Greet?
Cripes, I had no blessed idea what it all was, and many newbies are afraid to ask for fear of looking stupid. So I've put out some feelers on the idea, and am cautiously excited to maybe do this. Malcolm's going to hurl when he hears about this one. He'll roll his eyes and say, "Let me know when you get to the fucking part. I'll be there for that." LOLOL
I think back to how I got into the lifestyle. It was college really, although we had no idea it's what we were doing. I went to art school, was a painting and fine arts major, and I set about expanding my mind as many ways as I could. It was a long ways for a girl that had been raised in small town Maine and attended 12 years worth of Catholic Schools. So we had free love and sex, big puppy piles of us all sleeping together, fucking, loving, and just living. We didn't know it was swinging, and truthfully, I don't consider that to be really swinging.
I first got into swinging when I was part of a committed couple with my ex, Jachin. He'd pushed for it, of course, and he knew that I'd been quite open minded in the past and had done 3sums and moresums. I'd never been with a woman sexually though, and I'd struggled with that aspect of my sexuality for years. Being mysteriously attracted to women, but always having a carnal love of men as well. So Jachin and I attended our first party at the Chalet Motel. It was a KnA party, WAYYYYYYY back before they'd remodeled their new location. I was nervous as hell, drank myself into a stupor, and stayed glued to Jachin's side like a Siamese twin all night. I was so uncomfortable with my own body, and I was sure I'd never be attractive to anyone in the lifestyle because of my weight. So many hangups, so little information.
We were lucky and met a really nice couple at that party that talked to us and let me know that my insecurities were simply products of my own mind. To some extent, that couple tried to mentor us as well as they could in such a boisterous and busy environment. Over the years I gained wisdom and information from other couples and hosts in the lifestyle that were wonderful sharing and caring people. But I made mistakes that could have been avoided if I'd known things on the front side of this endeavor.
I'm contemplating hosting a Newbie Boot Camp to provide that kind of information to people either thinking of joining the lifestyle, or to people who have and are struggling, or to people who's first impression was less than good. I really think arming people with info is the way to go to help them relax into this and enjoy themselves. Although all the information is available online, I think it would be an exciting venture to host it locally where people can meet experienced couples, meet with vendors who carry accessories, and learn about all the terms this lifestyle carries. Vanilla? Unicorn? BBW? Fetish? On Premise? Meet & Greet?
Cripes, I had no blessed idea what it all was, and many newbies are afraid to ask for fear of looking stupid. So I've put out some feelers on the idea, and am cautiously excited to maybe do this. Malcolm's going to hurl when he hears about this one. He'll roll his eyes and say, "Let me know when you get to the fucking part. I'll be there for that." LOLOL
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
An Away Weekend
Along with taking time out from the Internet, I also realized that caring full time for my mother would require me to give up hosting parties for a time. I was fortunate, in the late fall, when I made the acquaintance of a lovely lady that was interested in taking up the reigns for a bit. I think, too, that having hosted as many clubs as I did as frequently, I was burnt. It wasn't fun for me anymore, it was a job, and not a very exciting one at that.
Malcolm and I attended a party this weekend that was just stupid good. We haven't had that level of abandon and relaxation in as long as I can remember. Many of our friends were there as well, though some couldn't make it at the last moment. But for those that did make it, it was crazy awesome.
Many people never consider the huge undertaking it is to throw an event like this. Hours and hours of answering emails, planning food, budgeting for necessities, dealing with peoples petty dramas. Dealing with no shows and last minute cancels. Policing adults so that your place doesn't get trashed. Being the perfect host despite how you are actually feeling. It gets to be overwhelming many times, so much so that when I hosted Affinity, it was more times than not that Liz or Ian found me tear-stained in my kitchen almost paralyzed by task overload. As the host/hostess, you can't really get down and enjoy yourself because the minute your back is turned, some fucked up shit is liable to happen. So you play a little bit here and there, never really letting your guard down, and hope to God that your mate will tolerate your mood and take care of you sexually when it's all done. Though we still play a fundamental role in pulling off these parties, the final stress isn't ours, and we can finally breathe, and make very very merry.
I knew this party was going to be extra special by the very virtue of the fact that so many of our dearest friends were going to be attending. Though we were disappointed in the last minute cancellation by my boytoy Ian and his girl, our friend Liz was still attending, and a last minute surprise of our friend Bill. Now, I've never featured Bill in a blog before, and mores the pity.
Bill is amazing, quite simply. Ripped, hung, and so damn easy on the eyes he's unforgettable. Luscious lips....great smile, easy going, and so reliable to be steady and carry a boatload of stamina. Quite simply, we love Bill. JT was also attending with some friends of his, and he is always a guaranteed good time as well. The night just kept lining up better and better.
And quite frankly, any night I'm with Malcolm at all is a guaranteed great night. To be in his hand and under his arm is all I need to be fulfilled. He never ever disappoints me, and is always the perfect date.
Malcolm had held me off all week, making me build up my energy towards the weekend, and building the anticipation little by little with his teasing remarks every day:
"You know that you're in for it at that party, don't you? I'm going to wail on you for HOURS until you don't have a voice left from screaming so much."
"I want to watch you sucking dick while I fuck you hard. You better swallow that cum too or I'll make you lick it off my fingers."
"I want people to watch you while I lick you and make you squirt."
And so the week went, until, picking him up in the car, I could feel myself creaming a little bit in anticipation of what was to come. We packed for the overnight, and got on the road, our good friend Liz following in her truck close behind us. It was a long-ish ride, about an hour, so we had time to chat and play in the car. One thing, since we've gotten back together, is that playfulness is so much more evident. Maybe we're more relaxed with each other, maybe we've seen the worst and now we're just more comfortable. I dunno for sure, but we play more, we laugh and joke more, and we definitely love more. He pushes me harder to sub, to accept him fully as my Dom. It was evident as I questioned him about route and direction. I know the way there, but he knew it better, and he would repeat...."Trust me, follow me." I caught myself beginning to argue, but quickly bit it back...."yes Daddy", and with that gave him my verbal consent to lead me, to care for and guide me and not just on the road. He knew I was acquiescing to much more.
We both helped to finish setting up the party when we arrived, finish some baking, some shoveling, some bed-making. Then we helped greet the guests and get the conversation flowing. Malcolm, as always, is great at getting people to talk and laugh. He has that kind of aura that makes people naturally gravitate towards him. They WANT to talk to him to get to know him. He also loves being the life of the party, so it all works out well, really. He teased me for a long while that night, not really thinking about pleasing me or letting me please him until later. We watched a bunch of women ride a sybian, and talked about how we felt about using it. My issue with the sybian is that it destroys my stamina...and when we're at a party, I need lots of stamina because Malcolm won't quit. Not until the sun shines...quite literally.
We decided to get things rolling by taking our friend Liz into a room. Luckily we bumped into another one of our lady friends who was coming out of the room with her boytoy. Malcolm took Kathy down on the mattress and started to lick her slowly. I love watching him and helping him....but my tongue wanted in too. So Liz became my willing victim. It's been simply ages since I had the joy of diving in and making her cum. Liz is gorgeous. She has the biggest breasts ever, an H cup I believe. And she is so responsive and vocal during sex. She also squirts buckets, which is amazing as well. So in I dived, with a happy harrumph, and licked and sucked her clit, fingered her juicy pussy, and made her cum at least as many times Malcolm made Kathy come. And then it was time to switch. LOLOL! Malcolm and I switched partners and started all over again, to equal effect. Round one, of about 20.
The girls needed to breathe and rehydrate, so he and I went out to the kitchen to get some water as well and clean up a bit. Having cum up your nose stings a bit, and makes us both laugh, so we took a moment to wash our faces, and hug and kiss each other, all the while tasting both women all over again. Malcolm decided to change into his kilt, I took a moment to check my phone, and we headed back upstairs to the party again. He looks so fucking hot in his kilt that after he'd finished boasting about it and prancing around, I hurried him over to the couch so that I could lift that kilt up and suck his big beautiful cock. I never get tired of having him in my mouth and throat, not ever. And he never gets tired of getting the best head he's ever gotten. That night, with people watching him and watching me, his cock was bigger than I've ever seen it....big enough to make me have to be careful not to scrape him. He was huge.
He did make me stop though, he definitely didn't want the fun to end so soon. He got up, tried to smooth his kilt down over the huge mountain of his cock, and went back to get a beer in the kitchen. We were approached by a new couple we'd chatted with earlier, and we consented to help them enjoy their first time. Being with newbies is as nerve-wracking for the experienced people as it is for the newbies. We dunno what expectation or preconceptions they may have, and we definitely don't want to intimidate or disappoint. And newbies can't always verbalize what they want because they just don't know. So we kept it slow and easy with them, soft swap only, side by side, Malcolm with her, me with her mate. It was a tender sweet moment, and we are glad they chose us to be their first. We hope they weren't disappointed, and hope they come back again for more.
When they left the room, Malcolm asked them to leave the door open. He came over to me and finally, FINALLY started fucking me with his big beautiful cock. I was drenched from coming and squirting, and was still breathless from the last orgasm, but feeling him shove inside so firmly until his cock was seated all the way in made me shiver, and it hit my magic spot. I squirted on him repeatedly. I honestly believe I could squirt on him endlessly in that position. He's so long he hits the back and triggers it. He loves the feel of my pussy, how it's wet, and hot, and he loves how I let him stretch it out any way he wants. He loves to get his hand up in there and fist me, then shove his cock inside and feel me contract around him. He fucked me nice and slow, loving the way he felt all that wetness glide around him.
The night became endless variations of him and I and Liz, and Bill, and a couple other of the men that attended. Malcolm would get me onto my knees, shove his cock into me, and invite a man for me to give head to so that he could watch me deep throat, knowing that the more he turned me on and made me cum, the harder I would shove that cock down my throat. He loves to watch the man's face as he realizes that he's never had his cock so far down a throat before, he says that their eyes roll up into their heads and their head kind of loll about. Then he'd move over to take care of Liz, and he'd hand me off to someone he trusted to keep fucking me, or fisting me, or eating me. I wouldn't always have to ability to see who it was, but that was Malcolm making me trust that he had my back, that he was in control no matter what. And it is extraordinarily erotic to be taken by a stranger, to not know who's hand is making you squirt, to not be sure who's cock is slamming home. I always knew, however, that Malcolm knew, and that was enough. Malcolm made sure that all my holes were busy.
It was getting on 5 am, and we were both exhausted. Malcolm hadn't cum yet though, and he won't finish inside of anyone else but me. So he flipped me onto my back, and he told me to play with myself while he fisted me. That final orgasm was the one that sent me over the edge, really. There are some orgasms where you just literally feel cells exploding inside your head, bright lights start to go off behind your eyes, and you feel like you could begin to lose consciousness. He brought me to that point then slammed his cock home so that he could feel those intense lasting contractions. When he goes so long, sometimes he has trouble finishing. He's tired, it's a monumental effort. So it was time to pull out his favorite fantasy.......
"Baby, my body is drenched in cum. Those men came all over me like the slut that I am, and I am covered in it. Will you lick me clean? Will you kiss it out of my mouth? Will you play with it and feed it to me from your fingers? Please daddy, I need to feel you fill me up with your cum because I want to feel it dripping down my legs, and I want to swipe my hand through it and rub it all over my face."
He roared his release and bit down just above my breast as the cum shot out of his body and flooded my pussy. He wrapped himself around me to keep me warm while he caught his breath, then pulled me out of the bed so that we could remove the nasty sheets and get to the fresh bed underneath. We put the pillows onto the bed, pulled the comforter on, and he spooned me to go to sleep. I couldn't sleep on that side though, and I turned over to face him, put my leg over his hip and my arm around his back and we fell asleep, his cock nestled in my pussy and my head on his chest. We both fell asleep almost immediately, and slept like the dead until we were woken up a few hours later by everyone else rising for the morning.
The rest of the day was honestly a waste, as both of us were wiped out and completely useless until sometime Monday night. LOL. Definitely a great great night!
Malcolm and I attended a party this weekend that was just stupid good. We haven't had that level of abandon and relaxation in as long as I can remember. Many of our friends were there as well, though some couldn't make it at the last moment. But for those that did make it, it was crazy awesome.
Many people never consider the huge undertaking it is to throw an event like this. Hours and hours of answering emails, planning food, budgeting for necessities, dealing with peoples petty dramas. Dealing with no shows and last minute cancels. Policing adults so that your place doesn't get trashed. Being the perfect host despite how you are actually feeling. It gets to be overwhelming many times, so much so that when I hosted Affinity, it was more times than not that Liz or Ian found me tear-stained in my kitchen almost paralyzed by task overload. As the host/hostess, you can't really get down and enjoy yourself because the minute your back is turned, some fucked up shit is liable to happen. So you play a little bit here and there, never really letting your guard down, and hope to God that your mate will tolerate your mood and take care of you sexually when it's all done. Though we still play a fundamental role in pulling off these parties, the final stress isn't ours, and we can finally breathe, and make very very merry.
I knew this party was going to be extra special by the very virtue of the fact that so many of our dearest friends were going to be attending. Though we were disappointed in the last minute cancellation by my boytoy Ian and his girl, our friend Liz was still attending, and a last minute surprise of our friend Bill. Now, I've never featured Bill in a blog before, and mores the pity.
Bill is amazing, quite simply. Ripped, hung, and so damn easy on the eyes he's unforgettable. Luscious lips....great smile, easy going, and so reliable to be steady and carry a boatload of stamina. Quite simply, we love Bill. JT was also attending with some friends of his, and he is always a guaranteed good time as well. The night just kept lining up better and better.
And quite frankly, any night I'm with Malcolm at all is a guaranteed great night. To be in his hand and under his arm is all I need to be fulfilled. He never ever disappoints me, and is always the perfect date.
Malcolm had held me off all week, making me build up my energy towards the weekend, and building the anticipation little by little with his teasing remarks every day:
"You know that you're in for it at that party, don't you? I'm going to wail on you for HOURS until you don't have a voice left from screaming so much."
"I want to watch you sucking dick while I fuck you hard. You better swallow that cum too or I'll make you lick it off my fingers."
"I want people to watch you while I lick you and make you squirt."
And so the week went, until, picking him up in the car, I could feel myself creaming a little bit in anticipation of what was to come. We packed for the overnight, and got on the road, our good friend Liz following in her truck close behind us. It was a long-ish ride, about an hour, so we had time to chat and play in the car. One thing, since we've gotten back together, is that playfulness is so much more evident. Maybe we're more relaxed with each other, maybe we've seen the worst and now we're just more comfortable. I dunno for sure, but we play more, we laugh and joke more, and we definitely love more. He pushes me harder to sub, to accept him fully as my Dom. It was evident as I questioned him about route and direction. I know the way there, but he knew it better, and he would repeat...."Trust me, follow me." I caught myself beginning to argue, but quickly bit it back...."yes Daddy", and with that gave him my verbal consent to lead me, to care for and guide me and not just on the road. He knew I was acquiescing to much more.
We both helped to finish setting up the party when we arrived, finish some baking, some shoveling, some bed-making. Then we helped greet the guests and get the conversation flowing. Malcolm, as always, is great at getting people to talk and laugh. He has that kind of aura that makes people naturally gravitate towards him. They WANT to talk to him to get to know him. He also loves being the life of the party, so it all works out well, really. He teased me for a long while that night, not really thinking about pleasing me or letting me please him until later. We watched a bunch of women ride a sybian, and talked about how we felt about using it. My issue with the sybian is that it destroys my stamina...and when we're at a party, I need lots of stamina because Malcolm won't quit. Not until the sun shines...quite literally.
We decided to get things rolling by taking our friend Liz into a room. Luckily we bumped into another one of our lady friends who was coming out of the room with her boytoy. Malcolm took Kathy down on the mattress and started to lick her slowly. I love watching him and helping him....but my tongue wanted in too. So Liz became my willing victim. It's been simply ages since I had the joy of diving in and making her cum. Liz is gorgeous. She has the biggest breasts ever, an H cup I believe. And she is so responsive and vocal during sex. She also squirts buckets, which is amazing as well. So in I dived, with a happy harrumph, and licked and sucked her clit, fingered her juicy pussy, and made her cum at least as many times Malcolm made Kathy come. And then it was time to switch. LOLOL! Malcolm and I switched partners and started all over again, to equal effect. Round one, of about 20.
The girls needed to breathe and rehydrate, so he and I went out to the kitchen to get some water as well and clean up a bit. Having cum up your nose stings a bit, and makes us both laugh, so we took a moment to wash our faces, and hug and kiss each other, all the while tasting both women all over again. Malcolm decided to change into his kilt, I took a moment to check my phone, and we headed back upstairs to the party again. He looks so fucking hot in his kilt that after he'd finished boasting about it and prancing around, I hurried him over to the couch so that I could lift that kilt up and suck his big beautiful cock. I never get tired of having him in my mouth and throat, not ever. And he never gets tired of getting the best head he's ever gotten. That night, with people watching him and watching me, his cock was bigger than I've ever seen it....big enough to make me have to be careful not to scrape him. He was huge.
He did make me stop though, he definitely didn't want the fun to end so soon. He got up, tried to smooth his kilt down over the huge mountain of his cock, and went back to get a beer in the kitchen. We were approached by a new couple we'd chatted with earlier, and we consented to help them enjoy their first time. Being with newbies is as nerve-wracking for the experienced people as it is for the newbies. We dunno what expectation or preconceptions they may have, and we definitely don't want to intimidate or disappoint. And newbies can't always verbalize what they want because they just don't know. So we kept it slow and easy with them, soft swap only, side by side, Malcolm with her, me with her mate. It was a tender sweet moment, and we are glad they chose us to be their first. We hope they weren't disappointed, and hope they come back again for more.
When they left the room, Malcolm asked them to leave the door open. He came over to me and finally, FINALLY started fucking me with his big beautiful cock. I was drenched from coming and squirting, and was still breathless from the last orgasm, but feeling him shove inside so firmly until his cock was seated all the way in made me shiver, and it hit my magic spot. I squirted on him repeatedly. I honestly believe I could squirt on him endlessly in that position. He's so long he hits the back and triggers it. He loves the feel of my pussy, how it's wet, and hot, and he loves how I let him stretch it out any way he wants. He loves to get his hand up in there and fist me, then shove his cock inside and feel me contract around him. He fucked me nice and slow, loving the way he felt all that wetness glide around him.
The night became endless variations of him and I and Liz, and Bill, and a couple other of the men that attended. Malcolm would get me onto my knees, shove his cock into me, and invite a man for me to give head to so that he could watch me deep throat, knowing that the more he turned me on and made me cum, the harder I would shove that cock down my throat. He loves to watch the man's face as he realizes that he's never had his cock so far down a throat before, he says that their eyes roll up into their heads and their head kind of loll about. Then he'd move over to take care of Liz, and he'd hand me off to someone he trusted to keep fucking me, or fisting me, or eating me. I wouldn't always have to ability to see who it was, but that was Malcolm making me trust that he had my back, that he was in control no matter what. And it is extraordinarily erotic to be taken by a stranger, to not know who's hand is making you squirt, to not be sure who's cock is slamming home. I always knew, however, that Malcolm knew, and that was enough. Malcolm made sure that all my holes were busy.
It was getting on 5 am, and we were both exhausted. Malcolm hadn't cum yet though, and he won't finish inside of anyone else but me. So he flipped me onto my back, and he told me to play with myself while he fisted me. That final orgasm was the one that sent me over the edge, really. There are some orgasms where you just literally feel cells exploding inside your head, bright lights start to go off behind your eyes, and you feel like you could begin to lose consciousness. He brought me to that point then slammed his cock home so that he could feel those intense lasting contractions. When he goes so long, sometimes he has trouble finishing. He's tired, it's a monumental effort. So it was time to pull out his favorite fantasy.......
"Baby, my body is drenched in cum. Those men came all over me like the slut that I am, and I am covered in it. Will you lick me clean? Will you kiss it out of my mouth? Will you play with it and feed it to me from your fingers? Please daddy, I need to feel you fill me up with your cum because I want to feel it dripping down my legs, and I want to swipe my hand through it and rub it all over my face."
He roared his release and bit down just above my breast as the cum shot out of his body and flooded my pussy. He wrapped himself around me to keep me warm while he caught his breath, then pulled me out of the bed so that we could remove the nasty sheets and get to the fresh bed underneath. We put the pillows onto the bed, pulled the comforter on, and he spooned me to go to sleep. I couldn't sleep on that side though, and I turned over to face him, put my leg over his hip and my arm around his back and we fell asleep, his cock nestled in my pussy and my head on his chest. We both fell asleep almost immediately, and slept like the dead until we were woken up a few hours later by everyone else rising for the morning.
The rest of the day was honestly a waste, as both of us were wiped out and completely useless until sometime Monday night. LOL. Definitely a great great night!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Long Time
I took a break from the Internet for awhile, not from everything of course, as email and bank accounts and things like that will always be essential. But definitely a break from a lot of things I love to do online....blog, Facebook, and online gaming.
The holidays came, and my mother's health became more and more precarious. I needed the time I normally spent online to create a holiday to outshine all holidays. After all, how would you do it, if you know this was going to be a person's last Christmas, last New Year's, last Thanksgiving...on and on. It's intensely emotionally draining, and as equally fulfilling. It also requires time and focus. I'm glad I did it, no matter what.
Time with Malcolm has been equally precious, and equally limited. Going back to work full time curtailed my being his beck and call girl, and very much reset his attitude towards me in terms of accessibility. I hate that men and women have to play games, but really, they seem to be a necessary evil in the balancing of logic and hormone. It's interesting to watch our relationship evolve, to watch HIM grow and change and to see myself doing the same. I'm no longer in awe of him, just comfortable at last and strong enough to stand up to him and command his love and respect. I don't coddle him, I needle him every chance I get. He has enough women in his life to fawn over him, he needs at least one that will put the brakes on and say HEY!!! YOU ARE FLIPPING WRONG!!! We laugh so much more now, and we have conversations about something other than his roommate or the crazy bitches in Jachin's life.
Jachin is gone from both of our lives. It's a bit uncomfortable, somewhat bittersweet, and more relieving to be done with the dog and pony show....and all the drama it created around everyone he came into contact with. All the lies, the manipulations just gone. And yes, I do miss him to some extent, but I don't miss the everyday horror show he brought to my life with all of his nonsense. Nor do I miss his ability to make me feel sorry for him or guilty or pushed into helping him beyond what is comfortable for me. It's a shame really to look back and realize that I had the lowest of expectations from him, and still managed to be disappointed. It's hard to comprehend how someone can be so completely mercenary in their intents that they would literally use up a resource until it was gone, and then move on to the next.
Malcolm is helping me look back on the past with different eyes. I see now that the timing of Jachin's "breakup" with me wasn't ironic, it was calculated. He realized, when I lost my job, that the bank of Lilith would be closing and that he wouldn't be able to rely on me for funds anymore. It was opportunistic of him, at that point, to have someone else waiting in the wings, as he always does, that could then continue to provide him with the necessary funds to carry on his way of life. He essentially lives like a gigolo, allowing women to support him. He'll kick in money every once in awhile, to make you think he's contributing, but really....what you give is way more than what you'll ever ever receive. Jachin once told me that he'd never let me go because he'd never had a real friend like me in his life before. Sadly, Jachin doesn't know how to be a friend. He's incapable of being there for someone besides himself. He's really only interested in someone when it somehow enhances his own life or well being. He definitely has never really learned how to love another person. People are merely a means to an end for him. I've watched him mow a path thru a number of women, not least of which was Medusa. It became more and more uncomfortable to watch him lie and maneuver thru them, all the while knowing exactly how he operated. If there was one gift he gave me, besides a cell phone, it was the gift of knowing him exactly how he really was. A mixed blessing that, to actually witness his lies and perfidy as they related to other people, and not really be able to say anything.
Meanwhile, Malcolm let me know about his conversations with Medusa, and how she herself is searching for answers. I am thankful for his pledge to honesty with me. Although I can sense his discomfort in discussing it, he knows that to not do so would be akin to me secretly talking with Jachin and not telling him. He'd be furious after everything that happened. He asked before he befriended, and has kept me up to date on all of their conversations. I value his trust in my character to respond to him appropriately. And that's what we are really working on lately, trust. Time will tell. She's mistaken, however, if she thinks Malcolm really knows the whole story. While he knows bits and pieces, he doesn't know every ugly detail. He only knows about the women he saw, which was a lot, granted, but not all. Jachin made sure I knew every ugly detail. Whether to hurt me or to have me be his conscience on some level, he told me about them all, and in gory detail.
I regret allowing myself to be caught up in the drama and for inflicting him on Malcolm. I regret the turmoil it caused in our relationship. I feel badly for the women in his life that he totally railroaded although as Malcolm says, it wasn't my responsibility to alert them, and they wouldn't have listened anyways. I don't regret having known Jachin, he certainly is a character, and there definitely were some good times in there. He always knew how to make me laugh. He's a hard person NOT to like, his showmanship is flawless. However, one thing Jachin is not is a good liar. He tells so many lies that he can't honestly keep track of them all. I knew how to crack his code when I was ready to accept the truth. For any woman that bothers to look, the signs are all there, it's just a matter of listening to your gut, and not rationalizing it to make it fit the story you want to be real. Jachin is amazingly in-your-face about his activities. He prides himself on getting away with stuff right under someones nose. I have scores of incredibly hurtful stories, but I refuse to perpetrate more drama on his behalf. It stops here.
What I do enjoy now, with Malcolm, is peace. Perhaps it's a naivete on my part, again, but things are so much easier without someone always trying to sabotage you. Our life is comfortable again, and I enjoy it as much now, a full 3 years later, as I did in the beginning when it was all new and effervescent. It's still complicated, but still so intrinsically fulfilling for me. That connection we share, not simply sexually, but mind to mind.....I treasure that most of all. In fact, he's been away for a few days and I miss the time we usually spend talking to each other. It's so quiet without him available to talk to. Thankfully tomorrow is a new day, and he'll be home. We'll have lots to talk about again, and I definitely look forward to poking the mess out of his bear.
The holidays came, and my mother's health became more and more precarious. I needed the time I normally spent online to create a holiday to outshine all holidays. After all, how would you do it, if you know this was going to be a person's last Christmas, last New Year's, last Thanksgiving...on and on. It's intensely emotionally draining, and as equally fulfilling. It also requires time and focus. I'm glad I did it, no matter what.
Time with Malcolm has been equally precious, and equally limited. Going back to work full time curtailed my being his beck and call girl, and very much reset his attitude towards me in terms of accessibility. I hate that men and women have to play games, but really, they seem to be a necessary evil in the balancing of logic and hormone. It's interesting to watch our relationship evolve, to watch HIM grow and change and to see myself doing the same. I'm no longer in awe of him, just comfortable at last and strong enough to stand up to him and command his love and respect. I don't coddle him, I needle him every chance I get. He has enough women in his life to fawn over him, he needs at least one that will put the brakes on and say HEY!!! YOU ARE FLIPPING WRONG!!! We laugh so much more now, and we have conversations about something other than his roommate or the crazy bitches in Jachin's life.
Jachin is gone from both of our lives. It's a bit uncomfortable, somewhat bittersweet, and more relieving to be done with the dog and pony show....and all the drama it created around everyone he came into contact with. All the lies, the manipulations just gone. And yes, I do miss him to some extent, but I don't miss the everyday horror show he brought to my life with all of his nonsense. Nor do I miss his ability to make me feel sorry for him or guilty or pushed into helping him beyond what is comfortable for me. It's a shame really to look back and realize that I had the lowest of expectations from him, and still managed to be disappointed. It's hard to comprehend how someone can be so completely mercenary in their intents that they would literally use up a resource until it was gone, and then move on to the next.
Malcolm is helping me look back on the past with different eyes. I see now that the timing of Jachin's "breakup" with me wasn't ironic, it was calculated. He realized, when I lost my job, that the bank of Lilith would be closing and that he wouldn't be able to rely on me for funds anymore. It was opportunistic of him, at that point, to have someone else waiting in the wings, as he always does, that could then continue to provide him with the necessary funds to carry on his way of life. He essentially lives like a gigolo, allowing women to support him. He'll kick in money every once in awhile, to make you think he's contributing, but really....what you give is way more than what you'll ever ever receive. Jachin once told me that he'd never let me go because he'd never had a real friend like me in his life before. Sadly, Jachin doesn't know how to be a friend. He's incapable of being there for someone besides himself. He's really only interested in someone when it somehow enhances his own life or well being. He definitely has never really learned how to love another person. People are merely a means to an end for him. I've watched him mow a path thru a number of women, not least of which was Medusa. It became more and more uncomfortable to watch him lie and maneuver thru them, all the while knowing exactly how he operated. If there was one gift he gave me, besides a cell phone, it was the gift of knowing him exactly how he really was. A mixed blessing that, to actually witness his lies and perfidy as they related to other people, and not really be able to say anything.
Meanwhile, Malcolm let me know about his conversations with Medusa, and how she herself is searching for answers. I am thankful for his pledge to honesty with me. Although I can sense his discomfort in discussing it, he knows that to not do so would be akin to me secretly talking with Jachin and not telling him. He'd be furious after everything that happened. He asked before he befriended, and has kept me up to date on all of their conversations. I value his trust in my character to respond to him appropriately. And that's what we are really working on lately, trust. Time will tell. She's mistaken, however, if she thinks Malcolm really knows the whole story. While he knows bits and pieces, he doesn't know every ugly detail. He only knows about the women he saw, which was a lot, granted, but not all. Jachin made sure I knew every ugly detail. Whether to hurt me or to have me be his conscience on some level, he told me about them all, and in gory detail.
I regret allowing myself to be caught up in the drama and for inflicting him on Malcolm. I regret the turmoil it caused in our relationship. I feel badly for the women in his life that he totally railroaded although as Malcolm says, it wasn't my responsibility to alert them, and they wouldn't have listened anyways. I don't regret having known Jachin, he certainly is a character, and there definitely were some good times in there. He always knew how to make me laugh. He's a hard person NOT to like, his showmanship is flawless. However, one thing Jachin is not is a good liar. He tells so many lies that he can't honestly keep track of them all. I knew how to crack his code when I was ready to accept the truth. For any woman that bothers to look, the signs are all there, it's just a matter of listening to your gut, and not rationalizing it to make it fit the story you want to be real. Jachin is amazingly in-your-face about his activities. He prides himself on getting away with stuff right under someones nose. I have scores of incredibly hurtful stories, but I refuse to perpetrate more drama on his behalf. It stops here.
What I do enjoy now, with Malcolm, is peace. Perhaps it's a naivete on my part, again, but things are so much easier without someone always trying to sabotage you. Our life is comfortable again, and I enjoy it as much now, a full 3 years later, as I did in the beginning when it was all new and effervescent. It's still complicated, but still so intrinsically fulfilling for me. That connection we share, not simply sexually, but mind to mind.....I treasure that most of all. In fact, he's been away for a few days and I miss the time we usually spend talking to each other. It's so quiet without him available to talk to. Thankfully tomorrow is a new day, and he'll be home. We'll have lots to talk about again, and I definitely look forward to poking the mess out of his bear.
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