Play Day - Monday Part Three

From previous post here....I collapse back onto the bed. I suck at his cock. I feel so spent, so gloriously spent.

I am pulled out of myself or into myself depending on how you look at it. Floating and spacey, I lie back as instructed. My cunt is sopping wet. He works his fingers inside me until he is fisting me - hard. We don't play with this anymore. There is no gradual process of working into being fisted. It is expected that I open and accommodate his hand. I do....Oh God I do. When he has his fist inside me I lose my head. It draws out the most intense orgasms. Each movement he makes is magnified by a thousand. His hand twists and shifts and my whole body lurches and I am gasping. I don't remember him telling me to quieten down so that either means I was a. quiet (not likely) or b. he had other plans and he was allowing me to go off in my head so he could unwind his deviousness out to its fullest.

** Note **

Kendra at TBK "came out" last week (see how long ago I wrote this). I find her bravery and honesty refreshing and inspiring. She also did a gorgeous post on fisting . SO, dear readers (as promised) here I am being more honest with YOU! I have been a little reluctant to come out about fisting. It is something I thoroughly enjoy. If you sift back through my archives there are several spots where I talk about it, though not expressly. You may find it if you know what you are looking for. Now I am calling a spade a spade! Oh and for any my sub-sisters who may be a tad scared of the prospect - don't be...Being fisted is as close to God as I think you will get in this life and a goal well worth working towards!

** End Note **

He had other plans. I came. My ears were ringing with the intensity. Being fisted is like drowning in the shallows while waves keep pummeling you and you can not stop to draw breath.

I was in such an exhilarating combination of off in my head and totally present to my physical experience. Usually he is inside me deep and hard. I felt myself stretching and pulling. I have no idea what he was doing. I remember begging at one point for no more. Usually he pushes me through that. This time he did not. He stopped. He told me to lie back on the bed and rest while he went and had a shower. I lay back and did not move a single muscle.  I am not convinced I could have if I had wanted to.


Back in the saddle

Thank you gorgeous people for your emails and kind regards. I have been on a surprise extended hiatus as I sorted some things out in my real actual life.

And now I am back in the saddle...not that sort of saddle, you pervs - although I am sure that will come. So here is my theme song for today if you would like to listen while you read my brief catch up.

Just to update you I have now separated from my husband. Surprisingly it had nothing to do with our little "arrangement" (arrangement being our open marriage). In fact that was one of the things we agreed worked well for us.

It is all a little ridiculously amiable, he comes and stays, spends time with the kids, has dinner sometimes, mows the lawn. We laugh and talk. Actually it is kind of the same as when we were married, well we are still married but, you know what I mean? We have always been great friends, just never quite got the husband/wife thing going so we decided to keep the bits we were good at and let go of pretending the marriage bit worked.  Our relationship feels the same.  It feels really good. 

Actually the bit that has been hard has just been the excruciating understanding that this decision will impact my children.

And it did.

And it does.

And they are okay.

Sometimes sad, sometimes confused but because we are okay, they are okay. Because we are still family and always will be. Because we still parent together and care for each other and for the kids and talk with each other.

...and you know?

Like everything, the actuality was not nearly so bad as the anticipation.

I am glad we got married. I am glad for the time we have spent together. I am glad to have him in my life, as my husband and now as my very dearest friend. I know we are both better people for it.

As for Sir, he has stayed quiet. He has checked on me from time to time but very much respected my need for space to deal with things in my own way.  He asked me if he could help, if I wanted to talk - I couldn't. Text was safe. We have stayed out of each others daily lives for months now, checking in occasionally but not talking. I did not want to (could not) feel weighted down with my thoughts and emotions. When I talk with him, it is like being split open.  I picture myself cut from chin to belly like an 18th century autopsy, organs spilling out over the table in an amphitheater for everyone to gawk over. No amount of grasping and pulling at the edges can get the seams back together. I felt the need to stay away so I could think for my self, for my kids.  So I could cope without getting tangled up in my own head.

I have never come to him to be fixed, to be rescued. I have always come as a whole, for enjoyment, for exploration of who I am. To run to him now? That is not who I am.

...but maybe

...just maybe

I need to learn to be embraced by the warmth of people around me.

I missed you all.

And now I am back-in-the-saddle!

xxx JaT