Dec 222010

Holiday lightsI think the holidays are finally getting to me. I’m at that breaking point where I realize how much there is still to do, and how little time. Monday night Joel and I and Harold and Melanie all went to the movies together, which was fabulous. I love when we can all go out together! But after that things kinda fell apart.

Joel and I got in a fight. Several of the children started vomiting. (I’m totally phobic about vomiting!) We had a diabetic emergency with our teen-ager that very nearly required a trip to the ER. We had people to pick up from the airport at two different times. The kitchen facet broke. I have a mountain of laundry to do. Oh, and there was cat shit in the washer. Yeah, that’s about it.

I look forward to my dates with Harold every week because they are my escape from the stressors of everyday life. We go down to the cabin and it’s like entering a different dimension. Yes, we usually have sex while we’re there, but it’s because I trust that Joel has everything handled at home and I can just relax and let go. It’s not always easy for me to let go. I’ve especially been looking forward to this date because Harold was going to teach me about fire play.

Evoe's ass by firelightUnfortunately, with everything going on and trying to put together Christmas in the mountains for 12 people, we didn’t think the date would happen. Although Harold and I are both likely to sacrifice ourselves for the greater good, the date is considered sacrosanct. Without the date, Momma is not happy, and if Momma’s not happy – nobody is happy. So it was with chaos reigning fire down upon my house, that I realized I was not going to get my date – and if ever there was a time I needed that date… Well damn. And I put sexy underwear on this morning too!

Then, a miracle happened and the diabetic emergency got resolved and no one was in the middle of throwing up and Joel told me to just get away for a few hours. Wow! After reassuring myself that everyone would really be okay, I went for it. Harold and I went down to the cabin and talked while we waited for the fire to warm up the room. This is also part of the letting go process.

At some point Harold asked if he should take a Viagra. This is a complicated question. The pills cost $18 each and I didn’t feel like sex at that moment, but if there is any chance of fucking, then a Viagra couldn’t hurt, right? Then again, we have sex most of the time. But I don’t want to feel obligated. We talked through all of that and decided yes.

The funny thing is, somehow we just fall together. If we can each release our tensions and just be together, the sex follows. It was very simple this time, no sex toys, no role-play – just us opening our hearts to each other and letting our bodies follow. It was exactly what I needed, raw and intense and pure. All that sweetness of joining together temporarily held the stress at bay. I had a few precious moments of peace. I think the two amazing orgasms had something to do with it.

Harold wrapping a wand for fire playAfterwards, Harold did show me some fire play. I can see the application as part of sensation play or topping someone, but I was somewhat disappointed. It did not thrill me. I might try to set up a fire play photo shoot at some point, but it would be challenging. Still, the scientist in me is always excited to learn something new. Yay!

In the end, today has been better than I would have expected. I did get my date with Harold. I finished sewing the 10 stockings. We made a ton of lists. The children are all still alive. And I do have two men who love me so much that they will clean vomit out of the weirdest places and cat shit out of the washing machine. I think I need another orgasm.

Dec 172010

LaundryWhen I was getting dressed this morning I noticed that one of Harold’s button-down shirts and a couple pairs of his socks were sitting in a pile of my clean clothes, waiting to be put away. I remembered that he had been looking for socks the other day and didn’t find any in his drawers. Without any conscious thought the words, “I’m a terrible wife,” went through my mind.

Wow. Even while I was struggling with that thought my mind went on to, “I don’t deserve to be loved.”

This is weird stuff. It’s so not how I think. But the more I pull on that thread, the more I realize that all of these thoughts are down there somewhere, deep in my psyche. They probably got there early in my childhood and have been festering in the dark. I want to be sure and take a look now that it’s come up because these aren’t thoughts I want to keep having.

I never wanted to be a wife at all. I like having partners. Wife is too kinky for me. It makes me think of chattel. I don’t want to be owned or to have wifely responsibilities. I want to be me. And just be with the people I love.

I don’t think of myself as Harold’s wife at all – at least, I didn’t until this morning, and that was in negative terms. Harold and I have a great partnership. We work well together, each of us bring our strengths to bear on our tasks and problems. If I wash Harold’s clothes it’s because I do all of the laundry and he does the dishes when he’s around. I don’t mind at all. When I’m more on top of things, it is a pleasure to do something nice for him, even a small thing like put his clean socks in the drawer.

Now, I am actually Joel’s wife, but we decided early on that marriage was the death of good relationships and we’ve worked hard to avoid the common pitfalls. I prefer to think of Joel as my partner. We also work very well together. When he is home he handles a lot of the stuff with the kids so I can go out and run all of the weekly errands. He’s also in charge of the garbage. Our relationship does include a legal agreement. But I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t include putting away socks.

Doing the dishesAs soon as I start think about Joel, that little voice starts telling me that I’m a bad wife for loving a man who isn’t my husband, not to mention all those erotic photos and writing smut on the Internet! What the fuck? Is this really my voice? As hard as it is for me to believe, I’ve got these feeling in there somewhere.  It’s got to be old because I’ve been poly since I first starting dating in middle school.

I wonder how much harm that voice does when I’m not paying attention. Even though 99% of me is signed up for the choices I make, maybe that 1% does it’s best to make me feel bad about myself. That 1% is probably based on my parent’s marriage, before they divorced, when I was very young. That small part of me is really scared that I’m messing up and wants to make sure that I’ll still get what I need. I can’t help but wonder how many divorces are caused by similar voices and left-over internalizations about what it means to be married. Maybe it would help if we could just reassure those little voices.

So that’s what I’ve been doing – reassuring myself that I am indeed worthy of love and I am a good partner. In fact, I have surrounded myself with love. I know I’m very lucky, but maybe I’m also just very good to have the relationships that I do. Even when I don’t get to the socks.

Dec 102010

LaundryLaundry is supposed to be sexy, right? Just ask any housewife and she’ll tell you how she gets off on that spin cycle. Well, try loading the washer full of urine-soaked, cat puke-covered, spooge-stained things and see how sexy you feel. The moment that everything in the house is clean, folded, and put away I swear I’ll orgasm spontaneously, but despite sounding like a jet engine revving up, my spin cycle doesn’t move me.

And yet, this morning I pulled an armful of dirty laundry out of the basket and caught a whiff of Harold’s sweat off of one of his shirts. It went straight to my animal brain. I felt totally turned on. Images of us making love played out in my mind. I had this primal reaction of realizing that this is the scent of my man. Weird.

Actually, not so weird. I remember reading in Sex at Dawn about research done with women and men’s sweaty t-shirts, that confirmed that most women will pick the man most genetically compatible to reproduce with based on scent alone. Unfortunately, being on birth control pills interferes with a woman’s ability to choose a mate by scent, sometimes with disastrous consequences – like my first marriage, for example.

As my first marriage was ending, and Joel and I were first falling in love, one of the things I noticed most was how good his smell is. He just smells right. I can’t explain it more than that. Now I just bury my face in his neck when we hug and breathe him in.

Armpit hairHarold shocked the hell out of me on our first date when he licked my armpit. I thought he was going to poison himself on my deodorant. Over time he’s convinced me to stop shaving my pits and to stop wearing deodorant. I’m largely ambivalent, so I don’t mind pleasing him. I have certain limits. I shaved for an Indian formal dinner that we attended and I put on deodorant when I’m flying or going dancing or something. If Harold wants to get his kink on by smelling me, I’m okay with that.

The scent thing even happens at random. Last night the man behind me in line at the grocery store reeked of body odor. He wasn’t at all attractive. I should have been appalled. But I wasn’t. He smelled kind of good, even though I knew he shouldn’t. Logically, I can assume that he would be a good genetic match for me and just walk away.

Lots of other things smell sexy. Different scents appeal to men and women, but I commonly hear that scents like vanilla, citrus, musk, lavender, jasmine, cinnamon, and licorice attract people. Currently, I’m drawn to the scent of fresh laundry. The spin cycle is coming up and I’ve got a few things to fold.

Dec 022010

Wrists boundI’m a girl gone wild this morning! I don’t know what happened. Maybe finally getting some down time reset my creative force. I’m certainly hornier than usual. Maybe I’m just generally more energetic and working focuses my mind on sex.

For example, I was surfing some (totally work related) porn this morning and I came across some bondage sites. Usually, I fantasize about being the one tied up, but not today. I want a girl to tie up!  My very own curvy girl to tie in pervy poses. She doesn’t even have to be a sex partner, although I would be happy to torture and delight her. Are you listening Santa? I want a bondage girl. I’ll take good care of her, promise!

And I got off in the shower again, even though my whole abdomen aches from a deep and strenuous fucking and my right nipple is sore from a malfunctioning clamp and additional stimulus. I’m not sure if I’m becoming more aqua-erotic or if it’s the only place in the house I might be alone for a minute. Anyway, the orgasm was almost instant thinking about wrapping rope around pretty girls.

Nipple clampEven after I came, I wasn’t done. I spent the rest of my shower fantasizing about sexual situations with myself and 3-5 guys, including my 2 guys of course! I have to laugh at myself because I spend more time visualizing the logistics of who goes where than feeling the sexiness of a gang bang.

I’m also full of fabulous ideas for the website, so at least some of this sexplosion is useful. But for future reference, porn before breakfast gets me all wound up. I think I’m going to go put this energy to good use cleaning the bathroom and doing laundry.

Nov 142010

Black & white breastsSometimes I find pleasure in the weirdest ways. Which is fine. I’ll take it however I can get it.

It was that kind of day. Everything was laid back, but I worked all morning. I did some laundry, had some lunch. Then I started feeling antsy – a bit anxious, kind of sad, and just wanting action. Circumstances made sex out of the question. I considered going for a walk, but it was cold and wet outside. I thought about sewing something, but I didn’t have the concentration for it. Finally I came up with a good idea…a bath!

Ah, relaxing in the bath with my vampire smut. And my toddler. Huh. Right. Well, not what I had in mind, but still fun. Joel brought me a cup of herbal tea that smelled heavenly. My daughter buffed my feet with pumice, which started me thinking about going to the spa. After the baby got bored and left, I decided to give the shower a thorough cleaning.

We have a lot of white tile in the bathroom. I drained the tub and ran really hot water through the shower. Still naked, I methodically scoured the white tile with Clorox bleach spray and a scrubby sponge. The slightly bleachy smell mingled with the herbal tea aroma. The bathroom filled with steam. Harold opened the door and gave me a deep, wildly passionate kiss before disappearing again. The mist in the bathroom was swirled and my skin was slick and flushed with the heat and desire.

I reveled in the satisfaction of knowing that the whole shower and tub was totally clean. I was quite pleased with the shiny. The whole experience somehow reminded me of wonderful times at the spa. I went to turn off the water, then stopped. I looked at the shower head. I pulled it down and adjusted the spray to the most vigorous setting. A little thrill of excitement traveled from my throat to my cunt.

SmileExperimentally, I ran the hot jet of water across each nipple. I gasped. My nipples reddened under the force and the temperature of the shower, as I did it again – longer this time. I was breathing hard and I could feel my cunt opening up. Did I dare try the water there? Of course. I parted my legs, bracing them against the sides of the tub and tightening my thigh muscles. I darted the fierce stream across my cunt, teasing myself with the tickle and heat, before directing the water right at my clit.

It was so intense. I held out as long as I could, but I came almost instantly, shuttering and twitching. I stood there for several seconds, feeling my body and the pleasure rocking through me in waves. Beautiful. Private. Mine.

When life is this good, who needs to go to the spa?