HNT: Found-a-Boob

Who knew? That boob from last week came out of hiding!

Happy HNT, dirty darlings! Don't forget to drop by on Osbasso and make a visit to the Other HNT.

What's in it for me?

I picked up my cell phone this afternoon to check the time and I noticed the icon indicating I had a text message at the top of my screen. That's odd, I thought, usually a notification comes right across the screen: 1 new message. I check the message and check the time: 11:50. When I was in the shower. While my husband was home.

So, here we are again, folks. The master spy is back to his old tricks. He took my absence as an opportunity to go through my phone while I was out of sight.

He asked me last night: "did you get any texts this week from people you met last weekend?" "No," I replied, the truth for what it is worth.

For the record here is the history: an affair on my part, the discovery of my blog, the decision that we could have an open marriage - me having several more encounters during that time, each of which was followed by my husband freaking out - but not admitting to freaking out about what was going on - it was always *something* to do with the particular circumstance, not the issue at hand. During that time hubby installs tracking software on my laptop, all the better to monitor me with, which of course I caught him at.

Now he wants to yank my leash, he wants exclusive ownership of his property back - although never quite demanding it. And he continues to stalk...going through my phone, checking my blog, and - I would not be surprised given a new startling slowness on this computer - tracking me again.

I said to him the other night: "I am not interested in being monogamous, is there anything that could encourage you to accept that?"

"What's in it for me?" he replied. Ah, yes, him - always him.

He wanted to work the long hours and leave me alone with the kids - costing us a good part of the relationship that we had, irregardless of my cries for help.

He wanted to install tracking software on my computer - irregardless of how I would feel about it; he goes through my cell phone - despite being told I do not like it - because he needs to; he says that spending 30 seconds washing a cookie sheet is too much time - because he doesn't want to do it; he refuses to help with housework - although he claims doing the kid's lunches is 'doing everything for me' - because he doesn't like it; he wants constant and dirty sex - the way he wants it and when he wants it.

Him, him, him, him, him.


Here's a thought: if you don't respect my limits in terms of not stalking me, why on earth do you think I would bother to respect yours in terms of what you think I should be allowed to do?

So, if this is the question of the week then I am going to ask it as well: what the fuck is in this for me?

Craving the Insanity

Someone said to me recently, how can a mistake feel so good initially?

Yes, he was talking about getting off with someone he shouldn't have. There is the physical aspect, certainly - the adrenaline, the touching, the fucking with abandon - hell, what's not to like? And yes, how can it feel good when it is so very wrong? (Please pardon the societal norm, it won't happen again.) I know some of you will tell me that that is precisely why it feels so good - although, I am not entirely convinced of that.

This logic also applies to the emotional aspect: the crush, the feelings and occasionally the love. There is something so very compelling about being wanted, being cared for, being loved. For me, it is truly an emotional orgasm.

But then reality comes calling. Really: Why ask for madness? Why crave insanity?

No good reason, certainly not self-preservation. But God, the temptation to get lost in the joy of the emotional lust, the haze of desire, the potential for something true. To be not a fuckee, but an object of desire, the subject of feeling, of craving.

To be caught up in an affair of the heart, a lust of the mind, a temptation of the soul.

The Emotional Slut, apparently, taught me nothing. I understand that to crave this is perhaps to crave my destruction, but sometimes there are moments we don't expect, situations we don't anticipate, feelings that tingle, moments that spark...and sometimes goodbyes are not as permanent as we would expect them to be....

HNT: Peek-a-Boob

I have to say...I really like this shot because if you look closely you can see just a little bit of nipple and for some reason it intrigued me.

Happy HNT, dirty darlings, I know I have been a lax blogger this month - but soon I will be back with all sorts of new trouble to tell you about...you had best emotionally prepare.

Don't forget to swing by Osbasso's to see who else is playing...and to hit up the naughty delights at the Other HNT.

Melting Part 4: Melt Down

All good things must come to an end? Well, maybe not all - but it is, my darlings, a world of choices - and some of them mean saying goodbye.

Normally the part of me that gets warmed is the loins. But when the traveller stroked his hand down my back and told me how he felt about me my heart leaped into my throat and warmed more than a bit.

Phrases like: I have never met a woman like you, I feel like it was meant to be, I could really be with you - and other equally frightening and forbidden thoughts flowed out of him, about as quickly as the blood from my face.

There is a point in every relationship where a corner can be turned, where choices need to be made, where you need to figure out whether to stay safe or jump into the unknown.

When the traveller put his feelings on the table he put my neck on the line.

Turning the corner into a new stage with a lover is huge and oh, can it be incredible. That being said, when turning that corner involves a real depth of feeling, the decision to do that means you leave a part of your marriage behind you. Taking that step means you move beyond having multiple partners to true polyamory. It is a conscious choice to risk what it is you have.

There is no room in my life for that kind of love. I am wanting, lonely and broken to the point of precarious vulnerability. I yearn for affection, for attention, to be loved - but to cross that line is to risk all, to give what I am not willing to give, to sacrifice that which is not only mine. I will not extend the betrayal with my body to make it a betrayal of the heart.

When he told me how he felt, when he put it out there...I wanted it so badly I could taste it, I wanted to grasp it and savour it and make it my own.

And therein lies the problem: it is not mine to have.

I was so tempted to reach for all that he offered- the solace, the emotion, the connection. To be loved by someone who adores me. To occupy a place in a heart beyond a love of habit and obligation.

The temptation terrified me, representing both the loss of everything I hold dear and all the potential in the world.

But I won't trade my life away for the intriguing nature of a new bed and the misleading allure of fresh love. Because that is not the light at the end of the tunnel of unhappiness, my darlings, don't be fooled - that motherfucker is a bug zapper.

So I told him that love was not on the table, that I could at best do fondness, light hearted friendly feelings - that I was unwilling to take his hand and immerse myself in him.

I was clear, not harsh and not unkind, but the bottom line was fairly obvious: this is pussy and mild friendship - take it or leave it.

And so he left it.

And that, my darlings, is the end of the traveller...what a journey it was.

HNT: Your Slut

Today I said to a friend: I am in a dirty and submissive mood.

Today I want to be your slut, be your fuck toy, play your dirty game.

Bend me over, smack my ass, show me you're the boss of me, make me promise to obey.

Happy HNT, dirty darlings. I don't know if you have noted the fact that the ever-so-fuckable Hubman has changed his URL, but click on through to his new digs and update your bookmarks...and as always, make sure to stop by Osbasso's place and see who else is playing and don't forget about the Other HNT.

Group Post: I Got Fucked

I shut the bedroom door behind me and he took command. "Take off your clothes."

No question mark, no suggestion of defiance. Do it.

I began to strip, hesitant but not fearful. This was a new scenario for us, but not unwelcome. Shirt unbuttoned. Shoes kicked off. Skirt slid down my legs.

"Stop there. Touch yourself."

I smiled, feeling unfamiliarly shy, not sure of what to expect. My hand slid up to my bra, running my fingers over the thin lace, touching my nipples. I met his eyes, obedient but not modest.

"Good. Now rub your clit, get yourself excited for me."

My hand slid down, inside the panties. Smiling I rubbed myself. I gave him attitude with my eyes: "what do I get out of all of this?"

This, apparently, was a mistake. He was on me in two steps, pushing me over and smacking me hard across the ass. I got a one word answer: "quiet." He did not need to exclaim or yell, his point was utterly clear - obey or suffer the consequences.

"Take the rest off, " he barked, giving me a look that suggested refusal was not in my best interests. I did, immediately and without question.

He sat on the edge of the bed: "straddle me." I was naked, completely bare to him and he, in accord with the moment, was clothed - making me feel his power, experience my subordination to him.

I obeyed, placing one leg on either side of him - spread open for him. He reached his hand between my legs and started touching me gently, watching my face intently, watching his power to make me cum displayed on my face.

He used his thumb to rub my clit faster and faster, keeping pace as I clenched my legs and body in rhythm with his fingers.

I moved faster and closed my eyes, getting lost in the moment. He didn't want me lost, he wanted me there, wanted me his. He grabbed my hair and pulled my face to look him right in the eye: "Do you want to cum?"

"Yes, yes please," I breathed. He stopped touching my clit, slid his fingers inside me instead, slowly in and out. "Yes what?" "Yes, Sir."

"That's right." He moved his fingers back to work that magic, but slower this time, not giving me quite what I needed.

"Who makes you cum?" softly but intently. "You do."
"Who makes you cum?" louder that time. "You do."

A slap across my face, "WHO makes you cum."

I have always been a slow learner, "you do, Sir."

He sped up, finger inside me, thumb on my clit and I exploded. Utterly exploded. I have never made a man so wet in my life.

I think he liked it.

He allowed no respite, pulling me up and pushing me over so my hands were braced on his chair. I heard him unzip his pants, felt him push into me - finding me more than wet, finding me wanting as much as he could give me. He wasn't gentle and I didn't want him to be.

I wanted to be fucked and fucked hard. And oh I was. Oh yes indeed.

Later we lay in bed, our games for the moment aside. He swatted my behind with a gentle playful touch: "so, what did you get out of all of this, Kimberly?"

I rolled lazily toward him: "Fucked. I got fucked."

This is another one of our group posts, click on through to see who else got fucked:
Ronjazz (http://www.ronjazz.blogspot.com/)
Petal (http://secretlifeofaslummymummy.blogspot.com/)
Adulterous Letch (http://a6y.blogspot.com/)
Britni (http://britisshameless.com/)
Autumn http://autumnmistspeaks.blogspot.com/
they belong to us (http://theybelongtous.wordpress.com/)
Hubman (http://hubmanshangout.com/)
Veronica (http://anothersuburbanmom.blogspot.com/)
Topaz (http://topaz-gemology.blogspot.com/)
Dreamwalker (http://dreamwalker.com/)
Gray (http://www.mygrayline.blogspot.com/)
Bri (http://theunequivocalme.blogspot.com/)
Spring Flower (http://agirlsgottahaveoptions.blogspot.com/)
Choc'ladee (http://www.thekinkchronicles.blogspot.com/)

HNT: On My Knees

Hmmmm...is that where you want me?

Happy HNT, dirty darlings. Don't forget to swing by on Osbasso and, of course, the Other HNT!

Also, darlings, make note that the group post email has gone out for this month . Want to be added? Have I forgotten you? Just drop me an email.

HNT: Soft...

I rarely feel soft.

I usually feel determined, strong, combative, authoritative, and aggressive.

But today I feel pliable, relaxed in my acquiencence to the moment...today I am reveling in just being.

Today I want to make slow and relaxed love...lie all-a-tangle and simply exist together. Adore each other with a refined pace and a heartfelt energy.

Today I want to just be, but also to just be with you.