An evening together

The place he was staying, courtesy of work, was about an hour away. Certainly I was there an hour after getting into my car to get to him. I think that if we lived an hour from each other, rather than 2 or more, life would be much much easier.

He had a room overlooking a road bridge. This greatly appealed to his kinky side. He could stand behind me, touching me and finally pushing inside me while I bent over the top floor window. While a few hundred metres away, hundreds and hundreds of cars drove by. The drivers slowing for the toll booth oblivious as to what was going on nearby. 
It was a large room with a very large bed. We made good use of it very quickly. Riding him, he told me to ‘fuck his cock slut’. Of course I rode him hard, moving myself up and down on him. 
Then on all fours, he was inside me from behind. Pounding hard into me. Just what we both needed. The best way to relieve the stresses of the working day. At last he pushed into my backside and he owned me again. We were connected as only we can. Wonderful.
Dinner, then watching tv together. I have to admit to drifting off a few times as I really was tired. But what a treat to spend time like this.
Then to bed. 
He stroked me, bringing me to orgasm. We both expected that we would soon sleep. But feeling his cock, I realised it was pretty hard and so, I found my way down to take it in my mouth. From there it was a matter of time before he was inside me again. Hard, hot and then cumming. 
It was just an evening after work, but it was very very special. It was how I would like more of my evenings to be, though I don’t necessarily need to be in a hotel to do it. I just need to be living about an hour away from him.

Truth and lies

I am not by nature someone who tells lies, though as a not very popular child at school I told some quite big ones to try to get people to like me, but that is another story entirely. As an adult, I have usually tried be true to myself and true to others. I don’t lie.

Over the last 18 months or so though, I have told many many lies.

I have lied to hubby, something well documented here and I have lied to others. Usually about where I have been and who with.

Around last November, also well documented here, I began to tell the truth. To hubby firstly and most painfully. Then to members of my family, to friends and to my son. Well I say I told the truth, because to each one I have told a version of the truth, one that I have decided best suits who they are and what they need to know.

Now, once again I am telling lies. In July when S and I parted I told hubby what had happened. The months and months of verbal abuse I endured from him, stopped. So when a month later, S and I got together again, I lied by omission. For some weeks this has not been a problem, since hubby has not been here. Until Tuesday night, we had not spent one evening or night under the same roof since the end of July. On Tuesday he came home, and he stayed home for 3 nights. He might have come home on Monday, but I was not here.

I told him I was going to a conference on Tuesday and to make things easy, travel wise, I was going to a hotel on Monday night. I did go to a hotel, but there was not conference. On Tuesday I was at work as usual. On Monday evening hubby was busy searching my wardrobe to see what was missing. He discovered that some shoes I didn’t know he had ever seen, were gone. Therefore he accused me of lying. Accused me of being with someone. Of being with S.

I have maintained my story and told him that I threw the shoes out. He and I know this is a lie. But I refuse to back down.

I don’t like to lie to him. But actually I don’t feel that we have the kind of relationship any more where he deserves the truth.

I don’t love this man as a wife loves her husband. He is no longer my lover and right now he is not really a friend either.

We are heading now towards the inevitable. I have suggested counselling, but he quite rightly says this will not make me love him when I say I don’t.

I pursue my own happiness, but know that in the process I am causing distress and sadness.

I long to tell the truth and be happy about it. I hope soon it becomes a reality and there are no more lies.

What I am looking forward to

I am seeing S tomorrow night. Unusually for us, fate has offered the opportunity for a night together just a week after the last one. He is on a course and needs to stay in a hotel and that hotel is easily accessible to me after work (traffic permitting).
I have been feeling unusually horny over this weekend. I am not sure if that’s because I know I will be seeing him or if it is my hormones. Like other bloggers, I am peri-menopausal (1 period since March, hot flushes, strange food cravings etc) and so my hormones are all over the place. Recently I have had pretty much no need for the rabbit, since I haven’t been too bothered about an orgasm, but this weekend I have felt differently. The new state of our relationship has meant (as I said yesterday), that he has been even more attentive to my needs than usual. This weekend though, I have even been looking at BDSM porn. Quite unusual for me.
The things I crave and hope to experience tomorrow:
His fingers on my clit as we kiss. He likes quick access to his pussy and generally gets it. I will be wearing a dress and think I might put the stockings on before I drive over and then the heels when I get to his hotel. The fact that this will turn him on, will make me wet even as I drive over there.
Pain – as he twists my nipples, and as he spanks me. I have been thinking about nipple clamps this weekend and that special pain that spreads through your breasts and into your clit. I am definitely considering nipple piercing now and I know he will love that. The combination of nipple pain and pressure on my clit is likely to make my knees weak (if standing).
His cock – I suppose I should have put this first, and I pretty much expect to have my mouth filled very soon after I arrive. That slightly salty but also sweet taste as the first precum oozes out is a favourite thing. Also the feeling of the tip hitting the back of my throat and making me gag. If I am in love with any part of that man, it is probably his cock – it is a good one and of course he knows it.
His cock – inside my pussy. As he pushes it in and I have to stretch to accommodate him. That is an amazing feeling. I love to be joined to him, to feel him inside. He doesn’t often cum inside my pussy, but when he does it almost sends me into oblivion.
His cock – pushing inside my anus. Slowly, slowly stretching me. Entering me in his own special way that no one else has ever done. That part of our time together is about his ownership. When his cock is inside there, he possesses me, I am his slut. At that point there is no doubt of who we are. He is my Dominant and I am his submissive.
When I leave on Tuesday morning I will remember the little things that have happened and the things that we have said to each other. As I drive, I will wriggle a little around the seat in my car. I will be able to taste him, feel his hands, but most of all I will be able to feel his cock inside my backside.  That will stay with me all day, at least.

Photo: Oral pleasures

No longer lost, but not quite found either

So S and I are back in the swing of seeing each other again and things are, I think, pretty good on that front. He seems like his old self, and what’s more, he is keen to see me and to touch me. I am happy to comply with his wishes on dress, and actually I like to dress up for him, to wear the stockings and heels. He finds me attractive and that helps me feel attractive in return. Dominance and submission is always present in the bedroom but outside it our relationship has become pleasantly average. I don’t feel particularly unhappy about that right now. Essentially I can go with the flow, and take our friendship and also give and take the sex.

Due to the unpleasantness I experienced from hubby all of the time he knew of my affair with S, I have decided not to tell him about the recent turn of events. So he doesn’t know I am seeing S again. I feel a little guilty about this, but the emphasis is on ‘little’. Although we appear to live together still. i.e. he has his belongings here and he visits pretty much daily, actually we really aren’t. I don’t actually remember the last time we spent an evening together, or indeed the last time he stayed the night here. He returned on Thursday from a trip to Rome with a friend, appearing on Friday morning to get ready for work. He lay on the bed and held my hand, he told me he had missed me and asked if we could have lunch together. My new job means I can’t just drop everything and come home, and we work quite a distance from each other. I suggested lunch today, and he said he couldn’t do that as he is helping a friend with a job in his garden. So essentially we remain in limbo, unable or perhaps unwilling to have the conversation which will bring things to their natural conclusion. Meanwhile, since we see so little of each other, we are actually on good terms. We are able to text and talk on the phone, without unpleasantness, but then part of that is because he thinks he no longer needs to say anything unpleasant given that he doesn’t know I have seen S again.

The fact is that I have a marriage which might be on its last legs, but which is harder to let go of after nearly 30 years than I might have imagined.

I have a relationship with S which is based on trust, friendship and lust. It contains kinky sex, a bit of humiliation, dressing up for my man and also some pain. If anything he is enjoying showing me how much he cares for me, and attending to my needs just that little bit more.

I still feel like I am on some kind of journey, I just don’t quite know where I am headed, and how long it will take. I guess though that I will know when I am there and what’s more, I will enjoy myself on the way. For now, that will do for me.

Photo from myboundwife.com

The mirror

He decided that he wanted me to stay fully clothed. So skirt hitched up, knickers off, I knelt on the bed.

His hands moved over me, feeling my clit once again, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.

“Sit on my face” he instructed. Of course, I gladly complied. He has the most amazing tongue. Searching, feeling and teasing. At the same time his hands on my nipples. Squeezing, twisting. Of course I came. I asked, he permitted it; we both loved it.

On my side he plunged his cock into me.

I think that’s when we noticed the mirror. Full length, between the bathroom and the vanity unit. I looked like some kind of wanton slut, enjoying her man’s cock. He saw just that, probably because that was exactly what was happening.

He loved it. For once he could see the expression on my face. Could see how much I was loving having his cock inside me.

It wasn’t long before I was on my hands and knees facing the mirror and his cock was somewhere else. He loves to own my arse. and seeing my face as he did so was something new, special and a massive turn on for us both.

Later there was time to cuddle up together, kiss and caress. Time for a film and then a meal in a really good indian restaurant.

In the morning after he had already left to get home in time for work, I dried myself in front of that mirror after my shower. I definitely smiled at the wonderful memory.

His slut

She wore a tight grey skirt, with a cream top. Heels.

Every bit the business woman?

Well a cream top with black bra?

Seamed stockings?

As they entered the bar, she looked around and saw people in casual dress. It was Sunday, so people were out for lunch, socialising, chatting.

He observed that men looked at her legs, observed the heels, skirt, blouse, bra. He loved it – his slut watched by other men in this way.

As they sat with their drinks, he told her to open her legs for him. Of course she complied.

She tried to chat normally, he smiled at the idea that they were observed in this way. Last time they had sat in this bar, she had felt conspicuous by her dress and demeanour. This time she ignored any embarrassment, proud to be HIS slut.

They finished their drinks, and headed for their room. Outside the door, he paused and ran his hand up her stockinged leg, inside her panties. she gasped as his fingers stroked her wet pussy, her clit. Taking his hand away, he undid the zip on his trousers, releasing his large, hard cock. She was on her knees before he told her to suck.

Gratefully she took him into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the sounds in the pub area below. Instead she concentrated on the feel of him, the taste and smell. She was pleased to have her mouth filled with him at last.

Then as she got to her feet, he used the key card to admit them to the privacy of their room.

He had loved that she had looked every bit his slut in the bar and that she had behaved like one outside the room. Now, she would be His slut in the room. They both knew what would happen next…….

Still here

I haven’t had much to write about over the past couple of weeks, plus I have been busy with work and things. That doesn’t mean I am not here and it doesn’t mean I am not keeping up to date with other blogs.

Reading what everyone else is up in their daily lives makes me a little jealous. More and more, I would like to be in a relationship where the D/s and the sex didn’t have to be planned out. Living in the marital home, mostly without a husband, a hundred miles from the man I am involved with is not conducive to spontaneity. It is not as if he can call round and make demands on me, any more than I can call round his and offer myself to him. Still we are where we are and generally things are good.

Having said that, we have something planned out for tomorrow. What is more, we are heading back to the hotel where we first met. The place where I lost my virginity (so to speak), where I dressed in clothes which could only be described as slutty – short skirt, wrap around top, black stockings and heels. Walked into the hotel bar and essentially picked up my man. I was beyond nervous, so much so that I remember little about the whole thing, other than we had a lot of sex for a very long time and that I had anal for the first time. I know that I knelt before him and sucked him and that he used me. I also know that it was good, because I came back for more, much more.

Tomorrow, things will be a little different. For one thing we know each other well. Things will be much more relaxed than that first time. Plus we are going to get out into the countryside, picnic and geocache. But he will again take on the role of Master and I will be his submissive. He may well have me suck him in the woods, he will probably touch what is his and I will do what he wants willingly. Back in the room, I will dress for him in the way he likes and he will call me his slut. He will tell me to bend over and I am pretty sure he will slap me, perhaps with his hand, a belt, or if I am lucky he will have brought the riding crop! If I am even luckier he will have brought the nipple clamps and my nipples will be already tingling and burning.

For a few hours I will be his again. His to use as he wishes. That is what we are offering each other right now, and that is what we accept. For now this will do because I like being with him, he likes being with me and life is complicated enough to not take what you can from it.

Definitely more to come in a couple of days.

Never say never

The weekend went well.

There was no guarantee it would, but it did. 
I was tentative as I arrived and he seemed as nervous around me as I was around him. Neither of us knew whether it would be the same.
In one way it was quite different. Neither of us took our D/s roles for granted. Indeed if anything he wanted me to take something of a dominant role to begin with. He wanted to please me and he wanted me to tell him how angry I was with him, to tell him how much of a bastard I thought he was. Trouble is, when you are sitting on someones face while they lick you, and turn you on more than you have been turned on in a month, it is hard to hate them. Especially when that someone is a man who you still desire, much as you would like to pretend otherwise.

The scene we played out at that point was that I was no longer any one’s slut, let alone his and it was his mission to turn me on so much, make me so wild with desire that I would revert. As I said to him, I couldn’t even play hard to get, since I wanted his cock so much! I didn’t call him Sir, not then. The sex was kinky, but there was no overt declaration of our roles. We both took what we needed from each other and that was enough.

The rest of the day was just fun. There was lunch, then a trip out for a walk, trip to a local museum and a new hobby of geocaching which he has just taken up and a bug for which he has now infected me with. Then in the evening dinner, a couple of films and just generally being together.

I knew we needed to talk about what had happened, but was happy to wait until the following morning, after breakfast.

Things in the new relationship did not go to plan, he is sorry he hurt me, I am sorry he hurt me, but also I expressed my surprise at the extent to which I was so affected by our break up. We talked through some of the reasons for that (I will try to put some of it into my journey page some time soon) and then we moved on to getting some pleasure from each other’s bodies.

What I can say is that we still turn each other on. He still knows how to touch me, how to kiss me and just where to put his tongue for maximum pleasure. I worshipped his wonderful cock and my reward was having him put it wherever he wanted. I guess that was his reward too. Plus I admitted he was still my Master and there is very little else to say about the matter here and now.

They say never go back. I am not sure I have done that because it feels a bit different. Anyway, I think I would say never say you will never return because you might just miss out on something good.

Thoughts

Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to call by and comment after my last post. You know, it is really amazing to have such support from people who I know only through this and your own blogs.

A good friend sent me some words from a couple of verses yesterday which rang true for both of us. Me because of all that has happened in the last month and what I am about to do this weekend and her because of a couple of life events that have happened to another friend of hers. The first is from a birthday card (not sure where she buys her birthday cards, but I need to get down there).

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. 

So throw off the bowlines. 

Sail away from the safe harbour

Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore.

Dream.

Discover.

And the second:

It isn’t the things you do dear; 

It’s the things you leave undone,

That give you a bit of heartache

At the setting of the sun…


These words are by Margaret Sangster, from the Sin of Omission. I googled it and this is the full version:


“The Sin Of Omission”

by Margaret Sangster

It isn’t the thing you do, dear;
It’s the thing you leave undone,
Which gives you a bit of heartache
At the setting of the sun.
The tender word forgotten,
The letter you did not write,
The flower you might have sent, dear,
Are your haunting ghosts to-night.

The stone you might have lifted
Out of brother’s way,
The bit of heartsome counsel
You were hurried too much to say;
The loving touch of the hand, dear,
The gentle and winsome tone,
That you had no time nor thought for,
With troubles enough of your own.

The little acts of kindness,
So easily out of mind;
Those chances to be angels
Which every one may find
They come in night and silence
Each chill, reproachful wraith
When hope is faint and flagging
And a blight has dropped on faith.

For life is all too short, dear,
And sorrow is all too great;
To suffer our great compassion
That tarries until too late;
And it’s not the thing you do, dear,
It’s the thing you leave undone,
Which gives you the bit of heartache
At the setting of the sun.

These words help me understand some of the things I do, need to do and why I am going to see S tomorrow. 

I intend to have a good time, to enjoy what I have. I don’t know what the future holds, but I don’t think that I will stop me living in this moment. 





New page

That is how it feels.

Perhaps writing my last post, about how lost I was feeling was significant. Maybe it made me turn some kind of corner and to decide what I want to do next.

My decision might surprise some people; it certainly surprises me.

I said there is no going back, and to some extent that’s true. I will never again experience the freedom of thinking that whatever He tells me about his commitment to me, that actually he has no better offer. I will never be so naive as to believe that just because we have had sex today, I couldn’t be told He is ready to move on. I bear the emotional scars of trusting too much, of believing that I wasn’t emotionally involved when clearly I was.

But, it is not over, not completely.

I am going back.

I don’t know if this will be a one off, going back or if it will be longer term.

Strange as it may seem, I still trust Him. He did what he thought was right, even if it turned out to be premature. I found out a lot about myself, certainly that I cared for Him more than I believed. I have been irritated by that, since I thought that I could take or leave what He was offering. Even taking account of the fact that I misjudged what was on offer.

I have discovered that I have needs I previously didn’t know about. I have also confirmed that I can’t just have those needs satisfied by anyone I meet (lovely as they may be).

He is free this weekend, he is unattached again.

I am free this weekend and as attached / un attached as I ever was.

What will happen when we meet, I don’t know.

Things will be different from before, but how different I don’t know until it has happened.

I am following my heart, but also doing what my head says is right for now.

Only time will tell whether my instincts are right!