This week has been a toughy, you haven’t noticed have you… Nah, I know, I’m full of blarney.
It went down hill rapidly on Tuesday night when the OH decided he’d quite like to read ‘Scarlet’ the longer story I’m writing at the moment, it’s a lot more romantic than some of my stuff. After a while of reading though he went very quiet. Basically instead of reading Scarlet he’d chosen to start at the beginning of the blog posts here.
Now, I’m not daft, I’m not hiding my musing from him, I’ve told him exactly what I’ve written, we have discussed the “other man” MMF, swinging thing almost endlessly to the point of boredom… and yet still, inside him somewhere is a seed of doubt. I do understand that too. I’m very good at understanding! I’m also very good at make up sex, even if I did stay up to midnight with it all whirling in my head getting totally stressed after he went to bed. I just woke him up for a pretty fast and furious hard fuck…. He didn’t complain much 😉
Going over it all again was not good for me though, I crashed. BIG TIME!
Wednesday was messy. Fortunately I’d written my ‘Vanilla’ post on Tuesday and I had my head back together by Friday… *sigh*
He seems to think he has to make all my fantasies come true. (Touching darling, honestly, but unnecessary.) I’ve tried several times to make him see that he doesn’t have to hire a sports car for the day and fuck me on the bonnet – it’s fantasy! He doesn’t need to worry about my daydreams of candlelit soirees with two dark handsome strangers – it’s fantasy! He’d never manage to persuade Colin Firth to take me skinny dipping – fantasy, Fantasy, FANTASY!!!!
Without fantasy life would be quite dull. I know some of them are obtainable with a little work and a bit of money, it is possible to hire an R8 for the day if you take a second mortgage out on your house. If I asked Twitter for a couple of volunteers for a spit roast I’m sure hands would be raised. but like all life time dreams once the are achieved do they not just become fond memories? Is reality not harsh in comparison? I mean, how likely is it that the reality will be half as good as what happens in my brain. Lets face it, sex on a R8 is probably uncomfortable, talk dark handsome strangers will probably turn into my worst porn nightmare and Colin will fart in the bath….
Such is life….
To start at the beginning of my journey on this blog, click here
then follow the arrows to the next post
The Questions That Floor You.. He asked me
“So, what is it about a MMF that really interests you?”
See me, yes, that’s me, the speechless one. I’m only speechless because the question was so unexpected and because my brain just went into overkill trying to come up with the answer. All neurological pathways between my brain and my mouth ceased to function, which to be honest is just as well…
…. and because I have no idea.
Funnily enough, his question arrived not long after the lovely Molly from Molly’s Daily Kiss left a comment on my post So… Sex, and the needy woman “having an MMF was a very erotic and mind blowing experience and one that I am sooooo glad I had.” Oh my.. *sighs*…
…And if you work out when the lovely Molly left that comment you will see how long it’s taken me to collect my thoughts on the subject.
So in order to investigate the recesses of my mind to pin point the attraction I turn to the internet, after all, that is what it’s for isn’t it – porn?
There seem to be two trains of thought concerning the MMF, the boys want to shove their cocks in any available orifice with the woman getting used as a fuck toy and the girls want candle lit worship, soothing touching, tweaking and ecstasy… Yes, I know this is a generalisation! I’m sure there are plenty of women who’s ultimate fantasy is to be the meat in a double penetration sandwich and loads of men that want nothing more than to give a woman a sensuous experience of a life time!
No prizes for guessing I’m the candlelit erotic, exotic and worship type of girl. Although I have ABSOLUTELY no problem with ‘spit roasts’ (horrible name but it always makes me clench and lick my lips) or double penetration *bites lip* I guess I would just want it done beautifully… Rhythmic, sensual touching, listening to bodily responses and quiet exploratory love making. *drifts off*
and so, I quickly discover what is giving me the trouble with my daydreams of a MMF, what makes me feel a little uncomfortable. I don’t want my fantasies of a tender, moving sensually sexual experience to turn into a grunting porn fest. So there you are, my underlying problem. I’m a control freak, I do have trouble letting go completely and I guess there are even trust issues involved with surrendering myself to two men and if my other half was one of them I would be constantly fretting about how he was dealing with it.
Ho, Hum…. It’s a purely academical exploration of course, one that I shall be happy to keep musing over and I’m sure will require revisiting. I’m aware that in reality, the only issues that are currently unresolvable are my partners feelings and my control freakery, trust issues until such time as a solution presents itself, I can dream.
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To start at the beginning of my journey on this blog, click here then follow the arrows to the next post
After consideration I have decided I don’t want to get much older than my age again, which means (hopefully) I’m facing my mid-life right now. I’ve written a bucket list on my infinitely more sensible and restrained family blog, which are mostly still pending but they are fairly tame desires. I need to revisit the concept here and let my mind go mad a little
So how does one get a mid-life crisis because there are somethings I’d like to do…
- I’d like to tour Europe in a sports car and fuck in all the countries I’ve not been laid in and fuck in all the ones I have too…
- Max out my credit card at Agent Provocateur, it’s empty at the moment…
- I want to walk through the streets of Germany eating pretzels and carrying a torch at the Octoberfest, drink beer from a stein and flirt with loads of men.
- Ski naked
- Hide behind a waterfall and give someone a blowjob
- I want to learn burlesque and shake my tail feathers at someone until he literally explodes
- I’d like to sit on the left bank an eat oysters, sipping champagne, people watching.
- Simmer slowly in a geothermal pool in Iceland basking in the sunshine of the middle of the night,
- I’d like to get smashed on cocktails at Mardi Gras and wake up clueless weighed down by beads
- I’d like to meet a handsome stranger in a dark room and give myself over to him totally – no wait, make that two handsome strangers.
- My Fuck me Friday #cream – yeah that…
- I’d like to be suspended from the ceiling in a sex swing and played with until I beg for him to stop
- I’d like to ‘buy a date with…’ at a charity auction, I’d also like to be sold at the same type of function.
- I’d love to come home and find the house immaculate, washing and ironing done, dinner cooking, a bath run and my glass vibe chilling in the freezer. Opps – I think that one just slipped in there…
Sex, fucking good isn’t it…
It can feel wonderful, delightful, hurt – in a great way, be fast and furious or slow and delicious , earth crashingly terrible, or perhaps because you are not getting any, extremely frustrating!
Men complain they don’t get any, that’s the stereotype isn’t it? – my wife doesn’t want sex, not interested. And so women are not supposed to want it that much…
How wrong can you get.
Because women do want it… well, lots of us anyway. I certainly do and I’m very lucky in the fact I have a partner with a reasonably high sex drive and I do get good sex whenever I want it.
But is it enough?
It would seem not.
It would seem that somehow, because of the respect and general gentlemanlyness of my partner, the fact we have been together for so long (although we are always up for trying something new) and a miriad of other reasons I can’t even begin to fathom, it’s not enough…
I want a lover, or two. Not much to ask is it? It would appear so. Society isn’t very happy about it and to be honest neither is my partner. Why do I feel like this? who knows. Fucked if I do… Except, I don’t really need more love… Respect, yes – I want a kind of erotic escapism, new hands touching my body, finding my weeknesses, pushing my buttons, exploring my psyche, pushing my boundaries.
During an open and frank discussion with my partner I confessed my growing interest in having a MMF experience, so we chatted around this and also what a MFF experience would mean for him and ended up ruling the whole thing out, because although he can appreciate the interest and draw of the situation and got rather horny talking about it, he was unable to come to terms with the thought of another man touching me, this rules out an open marriage too. The begining of the end, something he feels he can’t handle, so I have to respect that don’t I.
And I do respect that, whilst feeling locked up in my little world of respectability… The begining of the end indeed.
Here ends my first and I’m sure but no means last random musing (not so heavily disguised scream for help) on the subject of sex….