The storm

He has a view across the valley from his apartment. The sunsets are stunning, sometimes. Tonight we saw the flashes of lightening to the South so I stepped out onto the deck to watch the show. The storm made it's gradual trek North, the light misty rain hitting parts of my skin now and again. We watched as the storm drew closer. The rain changing from the mist to a violent downpour, lightening strikes going from distant flashes on the horizon to visible bolts to blinding flashes followed quickly by thunder loud enough to make me jump.

"This is the best storm I've ever witnessed" I said, excitedly.

"Shall we see how much better we can make it? If I can make you cum with the thunder and lightning?" He asked, knowing there was no need for me to answer.

His fingers found their way under my dress, moving between my thighs. I spread my legs so he had better access and he took full advantage. I felt his finger tips against my clitoris and inhaled sharply, my body responding quickly to his touch, as usual.

I struggled to keep my eyes open and focused enough to take in the show in front of me, even as I felt the little shocks of pleasure he was creating in my body. It didn't take long before the first orgasm hit me, I bit my lip, my moan barely more than a breath.

He continued playing with my clit bringing me to orgasm after orgasm, each one building on the last until I forgot myself. The storm occasionally reminding me of its presence by the rumbling I could feel and the flashes I could see behind my closed eyelids.

He  pushed fingers deep inside me. The change have me a moment of clarity that we were there, on the balcony in what was occasionally full light and that maybe someone might suspect what we were doing. Even more obviously, I realized, I had grown much louder as the orgasms became stronger. Even if no one looked, anyone could hear me wordlessly, but not silently, expressing my pleasure.

However, the welcome assault on my clit quickly resumed and I forgot everything again, lost in the fury of the storm around us and the intensity of the pleasure he was giving me.

While my clitoris eventually gave out, becoming too sensitive to touch, the storm continued for several hours. I don't doubt it is the most spectacular storm I will ever experience and I'm grateful to him for sharing it with me.

I still love him

I don't feel as introspective as I once did.  Sometimes I just don't want to think about things that much. Sometimes I want to live in the moment. And sometimes I just can't bring myself to sit down and type. It's kind of amazing how much typing I used to do and how much I avoid it now.

My boy broke up with me a few months ago. He told me he didn't see marriage in our future, which is, of course what he wants. I was more than willing to give up everything for him. But he decided he didn't want it.

It didn't take long before I was back in his bed. This isn't the first time we've broken up, of course. Or even the most painful break up. And it won't be our last. We're not "together" anymore. But, honestly, I couldn't feel closer to him than  I do now. When he let me go, I was finally able to "let go" too. I didn't need to hold back or pretend to be someone I'm not. I can be wholly honest about how I feel and who I am and if he doesn't like it, tough luck.. There's not so much on the line anymore.

The biggest problem is that the sex is FANTASTIC, even to this day, a year and a half after we first met. I thought the best I could manage would be a few months before I got bored. Somehow I've never been in a sexual relationship that didn't get boring after 3 months. This one shows no sign of stopping.

Now, it helps that my boy is a kinky bastard who has taken great pleasure in sharing his kinks with me and letting us both try them out together. Things I never imagined I would enjoy.  The most recent being strangling.  Yeah. I'm not even kidding.

There's something about being strangled and waking up in the middle of a hard fucking that is unbelievably hot. I've never experienced anything like it in my life, before this. And in that moment I'm out, I have the quickest dreams. Today, I dreamt he told me he still loved me. And as I woke up with him inside me, bringing me some of the most intense pleasure I have ever felt, I couldn't help but convince myself it was true.

I still love him. But he doesn't still love me, if he ever did.

He loves me

And he shows me in ways I never expected. If he uses up something I bought... finishes my cheese, my margarita mix... He replaces it. Without being asked.

If I tell him sometime is a problem, like lack of flossing... he starts.

I love him.

Since Then

With our affection finally out in the open, between us, we've been more free to share our lives with one another. DB has become an important fixture, though the relationship is turning out to be a bit of a mine field.  Neither of us know how to actually connect with one another the way we should be able to. There are misunderstandings and fear throughout.

Meanwhile, I still have a husband. The marriage is becoming increasingly strained, of course. Not because of DB but because of my realization that "at my age" I should probably make a decision whether I want to spend the next 20 years in the same sexless relationship I'm in now. That's a big question and one I'm taking to a therapist to discuss.

It's funny how this question came up so many years ago. "Leave him" people told me (online). This won't get better.  Well, they weren't wrong.

So much has happened

Now that DB is back in my life things have become a bit different. He's continued to threaten to leave me, but with less vigor than before. I forget if it was the first time we were together or perhaps the second. I was on top of him, perhaps partially clothed, kissing him like my life depended on it. Like I knew he was going to leave and I had to make sure he knew what a bad idea it would be. Like my kisses could show him how I felt and put everything on the table without words.

We talked between deep kisses and I don't remember how it happened but he told me "say it." I looked at him surprised and only somewhat confused.  "Say it," he said again. I looked deep into his eyes and I knew what he wanted.

But I couldn't do it. I shook my head and told him "No."

"Say it" he repeated.

"No!" I told him no emphatically, "I won't say it! It serves no purpose. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything."

Derek stared at me, not saying anything, his face impassive. "Say it." He said, yet again.

I felt the tears starting to well in my eyes. "Why would you make me say it? It will only make you leaving me hurt so much more." I paused for a moment and said "You know, fine.... I love you." And then I felt the tears spill down my cheeks.

"I love you, too" He whispered and kissed me again.

DB Came Back

DB let me know he was single and available again. I was exhilarated and impatient. It took an extra 2 days for us to get our schedules synced.

So I went to see him for the first time in two months. I parked in the lot and watched him go up to his apartment. He was later than he was supposed to be. I sat down in my car contemplating the stupidity of what I was about to do.

He already told me he was going to leave me again. I know I'm going to hurt from it. I told myself I wouldn't let my heart get all wrapped up in him again.

I finally got the courage and went up to his apartment door. He let me in and stepped aside to finish with his food, not reaching for me or pressing any kind of attention. He got very close briefly and I told him to brush his teeth which he immediately did.

I laid down on his bed and he finally joined me, wearing his boxers and t shirt. I was in a t-shirt, bra, jeans, and panties. He was gentle, though not shy. Afraid of what I might not let him do. "This feels like our first date," he said.

I laughed and pulled his mouth down on mine, "Not a first date at all.". When we finally broke our kiss he couldn't help but point out to me that we had sleep together on our first date.

What followed was exactly the sort of thing I was afraid I would experience. Our chemistry is intense. He looks at me, kisses me, and fucks me like he's in love. The intimacy is remarkable.

He presses his entire body against me, not lazily but clearly seeking the closeness that I crave. He kisses me as I come. Here lets me hold him tight and close. I kiss his temple, his cheek, and his ear. I run my fingers through his hair.

And I think "my God, why doesn't he understand how special this is?!" And later, when he finally dozes off cuddled in my arms after we murmur random things to one another, I can't help but think he must know.

As a rule I don't fuck married men. I am deeply opposed to lying and therefore cheaters pretty much get wiped off the table. Now, that's not always been the case. My morals have been looser at times than they are now. But, it's a rule I made years ago and generally follow with rare exception. Now, there are exceptions to my "no marrieds" rule. Namely, if they're not cheating. Men who are in open relationships/swingers are fair game. Particularly if they're able to demonstrate that they are, in fact, not cheating and their wife knows what's up.

Specific examples of this would be men who are at the local swinger's club. Particularly with their wives.  Done and done.  I am sure there are a few marrieds to come in without their spouse knowing, but if I don't know it either I guess it doesn't hurt me much. At least, not through any fault of my own.

Now, before I get into the story I should also add that as much as I like to say (as above) that my decision to avoid married men is a moral superiority on my part the fact is the real reason I don't fuck married men is because they are, as a rule, terrible in bed. As with all rules there are exceptions. But in my experience they are few and far between. Since I only have my experience to base these things on and it is only my experience that matters in this case, I'm actually pretty firm about the rule with the above noted exceptions.

So, having lost DB and needing some new excitement in my life I ended up chatting up a nice, reasonably attractive man on adult friend finder. He was respectful and friendly and for some reason I felt very, very comfortable with him very quickly. As such, the next day when I mentioned my plans to go to the local swingers club, he let me know that he'd been planning to go to and would be happy to join me.  Generally I have a rule about not bringing people I don't know into the club. I don't want to be the girl that brings drama. But for some reason he seemed really normal and respectful and I decided to take him with me.

He ended up picking me up and we headed to the club. He was much thinner than I thought he would be, and slightly taller. Not bad looking. But not the kind of guy I'd normally look twice at. We checked in at the club and then waited for orientation.  I've been through orientation but they've since updated their orientation with a new video and I was curious how it differed from my previous orientation a year ago.  Plus, this one was put on by the owner of the club so I was very curious.

We ended up in a room where I was the only woman in a room of 9 men (until the owner came in). I rather liked that. Some of them were hot. Some of them not so much. But the few that were hot were super hot and most of the rest were a little above average when it comes to attractiveness. It was particularly nice because I ended up getting to talk to pretty much all of them and started forming a bit of a bond. "I could fuck most of these guys!" I thought.

Ultimately, we went through the entire orientation and tour and then went to hang out while I talked him through the entire thing. He was clearly nervous sitting there with me, not so much because of me but because of the environment. He admitted it was actually a pretty nice venue and the vibe was way more relaxed than he expected it to be. But neither of us made any moves and we talked for a long time.

I finally dragged him back to the "voyeur" area where it was a little quieter and we sat on the couch and chatted with each other and the monitors who were chilling in the area with us. He finally started to relax and got a little more touchy feely with me when one of the women came over and started working to seduce one of the regulars at the club. She is maybe averagely attractive give or take depending on your preferences-- but she has a directness and lack of shame that everyone finds appealing.

She caught his attention and it made him hard and ready. We sucked into a private area where he freed his cock from his underwear. I swallowed it eagerly until he came for me. And then we left....

Lost

Unexpectedly, DB's vanilla girlfriend who "wanted to take it slow" made the first move and they ended up in bed. His decision, well known to me, was that once he fucked her he wouldn't fuck me anymore. So with her move, I lost him.

It's been a hard few days. First, going through the despair that I would never get to talk to him again or see him at all. And of course, knowing that the source of my greatest orgasms was thoroughly taken away from me, never to happen again. That was tough. I cried. I cried for two days. I want to cry now.

I've begun to heal, of course. I knew this was coming and I know I can find someone else out there who will touch me in such wonderful ways. Maybe I won't fall in love with him but I will certainly get to enjoy all the sexual freedom I had with DB. And hopefully more.

Nothing to lose

Because he's leaving me, I really have nothing to lose with him anymore. I'm free to do or say whatever makes me happy, knowing if it alienates DB it just means less dragging out of the end of our relationship. Less pain for me, really.

I'm working on some self-help kind of things, listening to music that will help me get through, practicing guided meditation to get over all this. I even talked to one of my friends who by virtue of being a sounding board reminded me that I can't keep DB anyway. No matter how much I want him.

And so, bit by bit, I'm showing my real self to DB. The neurotic parts. The clingy, needy girl who hungers for love and attention. All the parts that I know he's denied exist. And then he'll be gone without regret.

I'm slowly peeling away the shiny chromed out veneer and forcing myself to look at the rusted, dirty parts. And before I know it my love for DB will be replaced by the disappointment and blankness that is so familiar.

Since DB is leaving me, I've been looking for his "replacement." Now, I think we both know that I think he's irreplaceable. But I digress.

There's a man I've been with a few times. We have decent chemistry. I think he, like most men, likes how much I come, these days. But I'm not *that* into him. There's are a lot of things I like about him and the sex. And a handful I don't. The chemistry is quite nice. But he's not really quite what I'm looking for.

So I keep looking. And it's not an easy search. Especially because I can't count on DB to break up with me at any particular time. It cold be days or weeks or even months. But it's inevitable, just as it was when we first started seeing each other.

Of course DB is leaving me...

DB had found himself a vanilla girl. They've gone out twice. I think tomorrow is going to be their third date.  Obviously, he's looking for a wife (and future mother) so he's taking things slowly and carefully with her. But I also know he fucks on the first date. So maybe all the waiting is her.

He said she's only had three lovers. I assume she's over thirty. I could be wrong. By that time my number was closer to 15.
She's the Madonna. I'm much more the whore.

He told me about their dates and I cried. I cried for two days, terrified of losing him and knowing it was all coming to a grand, terrible conclusion.

I've been so happy. He's been my perfect lover. The best I've ever had. Something hard if not impossible to top. And I've loved him for so long, now. Losing him breaks my heart.

He swears we will have to stay friends. I want that, too. As much as I value the sex, I value him immensely as a friend, too. But it's not just the sex I'll miss (though I well miss that a lot) but the intimacy.

We were cuddling earlier in the evening and he told me how much he likes being there with me in that way. And I finally told him he needed to stop saying things like that. "Stop being nice!" I told him. "Why? What happens if I keep saying nice things to you?" He asked. I can't remember what my initial reply was. Or maybe I just came out with it. "It makes you leaving me that much harder for me."

I was high tonight. Off my ass. I'm using pot to control myself from crying. After I told him how much it was going to hurt, I could feel the stinging in my eyes.

We talked more. He asked me how I felt about being in top, since I only did it maybe once since we've been together. And only briefly. I told him I haven't been with a man who made it amazing, yet

Knowing tonight could be our last night together, I suddenly decided to drop my inhibitions and just surrender myself to him in a way I haven't yet. Which, in this case, meant bringing my more dominant side out. I crawled in top of him and kissed him long, hard, and deeply. I rubbed my pussy on his cock, teasing myself, teasing us both.

More than once I watched his hand reach to position his cock so I could settle down on it, having it buried inside me. But I teased myself more, and laughed at him, explaining how much I enjoy teasing myself and the byproduct of teasing him. He suggested grabbing some lube. I ignored him.

Eventually, I could feel how wet he made me. I moved so I could touch myself just to verify that I wasn't mistaken and then slid his cock into me. "Wet enough for you?" I asked arrogantly. "It's not about me" he said, blankly.

I fucked him on top for a while. I made him tell me he's mine. I demanded he admit that he belongs to me. I came. I came many times. Eventually, i got tired.

And then he took over and climbed on me and made me come even more. And then he told me he wanted to humiliate me. To make me do something I wouldn't like. And so he took me to his bath tub and told me to get on my knees and he peed on me.

I never thought I would let him. There was splashing, just a bit. I could taste his piss in the air. He peed on me and then when he was done he told me to kiss the tip of his cock. I licked the final drops off his cock head.

And then he told me to take a shower. When I was done he presented me with a towel and we went back to the bedroom where he fucked me more. Until finally I told him I really wanted to feel his fingers on my clit. "Okay." He said. But before we could settle in I asked him to grab a dildo. A pushed it inside my pussy and then let him have his way with my clit. More orgasms. Dozens. Intense. Wonderful.

I love him. I love his perverted mind. And I want, so much, to please him.

He took my ass, again, with his cock. And fingered it, too, discovering he could press my gspot through my asshole. And it becomes a blur of my own pleasure and confusion as to how it could feel so damned good.

I let go so completely. I called him Daddy over and over. And thanked him for taking such good care of me.

Truly, I've said it before and I'll say it again. Every time we fuck it gets better. Hope can that be?

Hiding

I had to go and hide all of my posts about DB. Maybe some day I'll bring them back. But I more or less gave him the ability to find this blog-- without meaning to. And then realized all the things I'd written and decided it was best not to let him that deep into my head.

It wasn't going to be helpful for him to know exactly what I was thinking or feeling. In fact, I'm pretty sure there's no place in life where being completely, 100% open and honest at all times is helpful. Sometimes it's just best to keep the depth of feelings or the momentary irritations from being spoken where they serve nothing.

Electric

DB continues to be a Juggernaut of sorts in my life. We get together no less than twice a week, except in a few rare instances when I've been sick or he's out of town. Twice a week. The minimum that I want, sexually. Enough to take the edge off but not so much that I'm too tired or bored to enjoy it.

I'm very smitten. We're so compatible sexually it kind of blows my mind. On one hand I value my marriage and my freedom to do what I want with whom I want. On the other, I want to base my life on good sex. After all, I've based my life on no sex for so long, why not swing the opposite way?

Poor DB, though, really wants babies. And I just can't. I almost feel bad for stringing him along using him for sex and distracting him from his goals. On the other hand, I'm really probably just some entertainment while he keeps looking for miss right.

Here I am again with my unique ego, thinking I matter that much. Anyway.

I convinced him to buy a violet wand. Well, I introduced him to someone who had one who demonstrated it to DB. And so, a violet wand joined his arsenal. Oh, the fun!

Generally speaking, the power of the violet wand is fairly low. But in the right hands with the right technique it's intense. In a great way.

The problem with J

The biggest problem with Jared is that he runs hot and then gets very cold. Two weeks ago he's available and horny and chatty and wants to fuck. In the last ten days he's been nearly non-responsive. He's not available. He doesn't offer alternatives. He just gets very distant.

Finally got my Marine

So we started chatting on ok Cupid. He was clearly handsome and fairly fit. I had no idea about his job. Just that he was DOD. There was something about the way we connected that I knew I needed him.

I put it off a little and then he told me it was his last night in town. He is a Marine and was only in the area for training.  I didn't want to go, but it was "now or never" so I got in the car and went to him.

After I parked my car I walked past the indoor pool area of the hotel, visible from the parking lot. I glanced inside just in time to watch a delightful vision of a perfectly muscular man with the perfect mat of hair on his chest lift himself out of the water.

I know my step faltered for a second but I continued my walk inside despite how badly, even now, I wanted to go back and stare at him. Hopefully when being noticed. Or maybe being noticed and taken up on the offer I know my gaze would be making.  How slutty that would be, to show up to fuck one man and stand him up for the joy of fucking another I just happened to see at the right moment. Slutty and mean and fucking selfish and awesome.

Anyway. I took the elevator to his floor (getting on the elevator I could see the inner door to the pool and desperately wanted to step in there but kept it together) and knocked. He answered and was every bit as hot as I'd hoped. I'd considered along him to wear his p.t. shorts (they're ridiculously short and therefore inappropriately sexy) but it turned out I needed not ask.

I took a half second to admire him as he turned to let me into the room before I followed, seeing down my bag and sitting down on the bed. I got comfortable and then as he stood nearby took stock of the room and realized I'd taken his place. I moved over so he could join me and we chatted a bit.

There was just enough doubt in my mind about whether the attraction was mutual that I couldn't quite bring myself to move toward him. He seemed uncomfortable with me in person. But he finally made the first move and in no time at all he was on top of me.

I welcomed him, cradling his hips between my legs and arching to feel the hardness of his cock against me. His mouth was on mine, his lips and tongue doing an amazing job of fanning the flames of my lust for him. I can't honestly remember the last time I was kissed so hard, so deeply, and so passionately.

I clutched his body close to me letting my hands slide over his t-shirt covered back rocking my hips against him already aching and impatient to feel him inside. I could feel his answering thrusts.

He finally broke off the kiss against my better judgement.  He pulled up my shirt and took one of my nipples into his mouth. I held his head, running my fingers through his short hair as he moved to the other breast.

He sat up and pulled off his shirt and I said something about just committing and got up to undress as well. Both of us naked now, he settled back in between my legs and we returned to the deep, passionate kissing. I could feel his cock pressed against my pussy, sliding up and down. He  broke off our kiss again with a muttered "holy shit" which was exactly how I felt and then moved down on the bed to settle his mouth between my legs.

The Marine was single minded in his attack, spreading my pussy lips apart to tongue my clit in fast and delicate flicks, stopping to suck it once in a while. I loved the way his mouth felt but found myself pressing my hips up against his mouth, seeking the firm but wet pressure I was sure could get me to my orgasm.

His tongue and mouth worked for some time, making me arch, buck, and moan. I wanted so badly for us to find that right place that would get me there but it didn't happen. He finally moved back up and I kissed him again, tasting myself on his lips. Turned on, wet, aching and ready to feel his cock inside me.

He continued to run his cock against me, finally moving his hips and flexing his kegels enough to bring his cock down toward my opening, teasing me. I didn't want to be teased. I wanted him in me. I began to move my hips to catch his cock head. He held still long enough to let me be successful before finally burying his cock full length inside me.

The sensation of his cock was indescribable. What I can express for sure is that it fit. When he was finally settled at his deepest point it felt like his cock was made for my pussy. Just the right stretch and fit. I realize I may say that a lot. But oh, the feeling of being filled just right!

His skills and frustration

DB continuously astounds me in bed. Okay, maybe there's a flub here or there. But he is absolutely the best lover I've ever had and he is amazing at making me come when he wants to.

I honestly can't keep track of how many orgasms I have with him. Whether it's a couple that come in waves or many, many of them one after the other, I can't seem to figure out. And even if I could, I'm too distracted to count.

Last time we had sex I realized he's figured out how to make me come during vaginal sex. You know, that type of sex that they say roughly 80% of fail to reach orgasm during?  Yeah, that one. After the second or third one it suddenly struck me that I was having orgasms. As if somehow I could have not noticed.

DB cleared up any doubt I mind tonight when he made me come multiple times with his cock buried inside me, not using a special "coital alignment" grind. He just fucks me that good.

In fact, he was fucking me doggy style trying to find his own orgasm and I came twice. The second one was at the same time he came. I've heard of this magical "simultaneous orgasm" but never thought I'd experience one. Kinda cool, but I really do find pleasure in fully experiencing my partner's orgasm. So won't mind much of it doesn't happen again. But how interesting that it did!

You can't go back

Of course I'm a mess. There's been a lot of stress in my life. So it's no surprise that I'm romanticizing and in love with DB.

It's been two weeks since I last saw him. I went and saw him again tonight. It wasn't quite the same. I realize I'm asking things of him he can't give me. I need to practice enjoying the things he can give me.

The number one thing he gives me is amazing sex. His cock feels amazing inside me. I live for the pleasure of feeling him bury himself in me.

His cock feels so amazing I find myself coming just from his fucking. It's ridiculous. Usually I'm more reserved, but there's something about having him in me that I lose control. I come. Over and over.

I'm so lucky to have that. And I know it.

It's been just over two weeks since I last saw DB. I haven't seen anyone else. I'm hopelessly in love with him. He's not perfect. But the sex is. Oh my god the sex!

And there's a little more.

But more importantly, I think he might be my Mr. Darcy. Cool, calm, collected, serious, sexy, and amazing. I try not to be too much of a romantic about it. But seriously. It's hard not to be in this case.

I gotta stop.

High Fantasy

DB asked that I get high, masturbate and then tell him about what I fantasized him doing to me. He'd make it happen, he promised.

Could he be any more charming? What better seduction? Even romance? He seduces me with words and promises and then actually follows through.

So here I am high. Sitting on the couch and thinking about DB's touch. What do I fantasize?

Always his touch and his voice. His lips barely more than as breath against my ear whispering dirty wonderful threats our violence and pleasure. Just his amazing, sexy voice my ear.

Gathering my hair into his fist and pulling my head back, exposing my neck to his teeth, dragging them over the flesh. His tongue teasing the same areas.

Feeling his nails drag over my skin, drawing lines and random shapes leaving pale pink tracings behind.

The feel of his body settling between my legs.

By then the orgasms begin and my thoughts shatter into a million points of pleasure.

An unreal dream

Being with DB is very much an unreal dream. Our coming together is something altogether overwhelming to me at times. He has flaws. I'm sure soon I'll figure it the fatal one that will ruin the fairy tale fantasy that is in my head.

I don't want to marry him or move in with him. I just want him to be my main guy for sex. And I don't want any beautiful, willing submissive women stepping into my place. Though I know, at some point, I will be usurped. I'm okay with that. Except when I'm not.

DB and I have a nice chemistry that really works. I maintain that my desire for him is at least twice his desire for me... But I've never dared say it. I can only imagine his irritation at my uniquely inflated ego.

Almost every time I see him, I bring a new toy. Tonight I brought an older toy we've never used and a newer flogger. We used both.

While DB flogged me, I cried. Not in sadness, for sure. Just a reaction to the pain and uncertainty. I think he's noticed how much I like to be aware of what he's doing, but he delights in surprising me. Switching floggers or changing to a paddle, without warning. Tonight he warned me not to peek. That delightful fear and anticipation was enough to make me cry.

Afterward, he let me come over and over again as he always does. The beauty of the feelings, the never ending orgasms, feeling him close, it was all enough to bring tears back to my eyes as I came for him.

I crave him. I want him.

And I know it's new relationship energy and sub frenzy and every other thing that comes with a new lover and intense experiences... But I love him, too.