So this was becoming an addiction. I had to speak with him. He would always text just when I thought I would not speak with him again. It really was like some kind of drug.
I had switched off this memory of who I was, of what I wanted and now it was there and I could no longer hide it. Not from anyone else. Not from myself. I have played around the edges of D&S and had always worn the control, just waiting for someone to step up and take it from me. No one had - until now. No one had even come close. I have slept with musos, egotistical advertising execs, up tight accountants, CEOs, friends fathers, old men, young men, not to mention all the women and none had even looked at stepping up and taking what I wanted taken - control.
The moment I was faced with it was nothing short of terrifying. I am not sure whether I was more scared of the power that he exuded or my desire to have my power taken away. Exquisite torture.
I walked out through the world and every pore just screamed from me "SEX".
So then I started to understand. The moment I owned who I was my neck eased up and my back stopped hurting. All of this tension for all of these years, just gone. I had to know this. I had to know what it was to be there in that space, to give my control up to someone.
It somehow still felt dishonest with my husband. He had pretty much agreed to an open relationship. Pretty much. I have never cheated on him. Never been with anyone else the whole time we have been in our 7 year relationship. I know he has never looked at another girl. Funnily he does not realise how hot he is....and he is.
So I was stuck in this space. I now understand what it is I do when I feel frustrated. I cook.
I pulled together the most magnificent truffle chocolate cake. Four layers, cherry coulis and morello cherries with butterscotch schappes. It was beautiful.
I stirred by hand all of the ingredients, beating the eggs by hand until they were light, stirring the sugar through until it was dissolved, folding through the flour and melting the chocolate adding the butter until it melted through and was a thousand different flavours of awesome - that sweet salty bitterness of dark chocolate and salted butter. A lot of people I know like to bake with unsalted butter but I love salted. That balance of sweet and salt is just a match made in heaven. While the cake baked again I melted chocolate and added cream for the truffle filling, boiled down cherries, sugar and some liqueur for the coulis and pitted the morello cherries making my finger tips smell sweet, musty and tinting them pink.
I spoke with him on the phone and told him I hated him for doing this to me. I had spent weeks just trying to understand what the hell was going on. Trying to find another way out of this mess that did not involve him. He laughed.
I was in dire straits. Now I could not cum. I could not understand it. I was not intentionally listening to him. I did not want him to be right. I did not want him to win but I did. My cunt was wet and hot and my nipples hard and aching to be sucked...and here I was - I couldn't cum. I wanted to. I tried to. I just fucking couldn't. With all of the delicious desire that I had held on to for so long I knew that this was no longer a want but a desperate fucking need. This was it, the one thing I had been waiting for. There was no way I could turn my back on it whether I wanted to or not, I couldn't.
I sliced the cake while it was still hot and poured the filling over, layering perfect, even cherries and chocolate, sprinkling the butterscotch on the middle layer. It sat perfect in the fridge, cooling. It didn't even take the edge off.
So I took it to my friend's place and in the car on the way there I spoke with my husband. I told him I was serious and I really wanted an open marriage. He agreed. I sat and ate cake with my gorgeous friends in their beautiful home while our tribes of children laughed and played, just thinking about being fucked by this other guy. I sweetly sat while they said Grace at dinner, drank my tea and said my goodbyes. I got in the car, took a deep breath and said "This is hard for me to say and I know you said you were okay with the idea, Honey but I need to tell you. I have met someone I think I may be interested in seeing. Are you okay with that?" He swallowed hard and was quiet. "Yes." The questions started about how we had met and who was he, how old - all of which I neatly avoided. I got the answer I needed.
I sent the text as soon as I could - "Game on!"
So now I sit watching the hours tick slowly, slowly until my husband comes home from work to watch our children so I can go and be tied up and fucked by someone else.