The e-mail

While deleting e-mails last night I came across one from Mr M that I hadn’t previously deleted. It was sent in the midst of winter, January to be exact. I can remember the coldness, the closeness we shared but they are merely far away thoughts.

The subject was: What animal would you be?

I remember him phoning me in the midst of returning his e-mail for him to provide the answer to what I would be.

A wild horse.

A wild horse?

I wanted to be a “nice” kitten, an animal to be held, looked after, caressed and cherished. Deep within me this desire must exist on a human level.

Instead, I project this image to the outside world….

* Dressed in pencil skirts & shirts mid-week then the relaxed look at week-end. I will be the one wearing the dress on the Saturday night, holding hands with my husband usually within a group. I’m the friendly one, making everyone laugh – hugging & kissing friends and family on both cheeks as they arrive and leave. Everyone will feel desired and loved, I’m still waiting for that feeling to arrive with me but nobody seems to notice as I’m the…..

* impermeable one to who meets me.

* Fiercely independent, the quality they most admire but if someone took their time, to really uncover this pretence they will see the fears that drive the independence, keeping me “alone” with no real attachment and constantly running from the outside world and the thoughts I have within me.

* The charming female, there is an actress within me. I’m always listening, responding with the right words. I get to know you like no other, telling me fears and dreams, I carry everyone’s secrets well. While the real me is hidden, I carry my secrets upon my back in a heavy sack.

In secret….

* I cry alone, the sadness getting too much. My eyes become swollen and I look like I have hay-fever.

* I daydream of being a princess for a day 😉

* I watch myself in the mirror, disliking the parts of me that many love…my eyes “Lucy, the windows to your soul”. If you saw my soul and the things I do, would you be my friend. “Your smile lights up the room”….it covers my breaking heart….”You have perfect legs”…would you still like them if you saw them wrapped around a strangers body last night?

* I have sex with married men. Entering an affair to escape the reality. I play them like a violin, enticing them to leave them without a good-bye.

* I spend nights with these men but leave during the middle of the night or early morning (5/6am). Unfortunately with Simon I stayed till morning (note to self: don’t do this again).

And to the animal, what would I be….the wild horse. Mr M was right. Unfortunately I’m too scared to be that kitten, to be rejected and left alone.

Until the wild horse meets the kitten within, I continue…it’s another day, the pencil skirt is waiting to mask this body of mine, the smile is ready to come and there I will walk. This body of mine will carry me, fending off the demons in my head…I’m a strong and independent women longing to be the submissive that’s in my head.

Stolen afternoon

You were late from having to drive from afar. I waited in the country pub and heard about the world of a bar man. The bar man thought I was stood up but there you came, heads turning in your presence mine wanted to bow down, look at the floor whilst on my knees.

During lunch we spoke of life, our partners and you asked me what it would be like if we met before we got married. You are 18 years older, would it ever have been possible four us? I kept my thoughts secret from you.

You drove us to visit a garden, we were the only visitors. Yes, you do take me to the most wonderful places.

There was a swing reminding us both of our childhood or possibly kinkier things (we didn’t speak of the latter but did you think it?). I went on it, swinging higher and higher, your eyes watching my every move, my hair flowing in the breeze and I left all my outside world behind “Lucy you look carefree with freedom, so beautiful”. Yes you do, is it the swing or you that makes me this way?

You dusted the back of my skirt afterwards, it must have been years prior to the swing being used. And there in the middle of the wilderness of the open garden you spanked me. It must have lasted 5 minutes, shoes dropping from my hands awoke me from the spell bound you capture me in.

It was your first time to spank a female, you enjoyed it. I asked, how do you know you enjoyed it? I smiled while doing it and loved the affect it had on you.

A gardener was coming our way and we eventually sat beside a pond. You were hard while I sat on top of you, facing away. Your right hand etching my pencil skirt apart feeling my skin underneath and the other hand rubbing my hand “cum for me Lucy” I really wanted to, this felt so right regardless of where we were. I was wet and exploding on your magical fingers. I wonder if the gardener watched.

“I want to be inside Lucy, imagine my long thick dick gliding into you, pushing deeper and deeper, my heavy balls would be hitting your ass”.

Yes, I think of it often, even now. Picturing the scene makes me want you more, I guess you know by planting a seed like I’m somewhere in the world belonging to you.

Coffee and cake finished the visit to the garden. I had wet marks on my skirt from your touch, we laughed. You told the owner about “our” garden, it has pear trees, there is honeysuckle and nettles. She advised you to make nettle tea and that nettles are good for wildlife. Your not a keen gardener, different from me I love gardening but we don’t live together, never will visit each others houses. But you tell me “I will be with you until your dying day”. I don’t say anything to this, too afraid to look at our futures. Lets just enjoy the moment.

Standing in that car park our bodies parted, our minds haven’t. We saw each other driving and I blew you sweet kisses. Our minds are still together as we have texted since.

Thank you for the stolen Wednesday afternoon.

Come away with me….

Wait, before you answer. This is what I promise.

You will feel wanted and desired, something you are missing from home. She is too busy for you at the moment but I am only busy for wishing to be with you.

My eyes will only be for you. She once had eyes for you but she is now too busy with life to notice you.

The body I have is for you to touch. I will not reject you like she does when you touch her, I will beg for your touch.

Your words is all I wish to hear, I will listen about your day and ask questions she does not wish to ask.

What will happen afterwards?
We will go our separate ways, she will be waiting for you at home.

Will you keep in contact with me?
Of course my dear, a text, e-mail and telephone calls. Does she contact you like this?

Will I see you again?
In those stolen moments, I will invite you to leave your world behind again. We will meet somewhere in between. She will not know, your secret (me) is safe

Come away with me…..

Beat out by Charmin

Valley Girl Gone Country

Seriously Freshly Pressed committee???  TP or NOT TP?? ….. I know it’s not a competition of sorts but in a way I feel as though I was beat out by the very thing I wipe my ass with.

I know it’s highly unlikely that the Freshly Pressed committee would recognize a newbie like myself or find my writing ability to be less than Freshly Pressed worthly but there is that little ray of hope that I have that one day I would get that email stating that I was “Freshly Pressed”.I even went to bat for the FP committee when I read a post that stated that the committee only chooses those who are white, which I thought was ludicrous!!! not like this little rant is going to get me to that spot; it would most likely get me black balled for a few years. Don’t get me wrong and…

View original post 55 more words

Secret of marriage

The rain has hit England with a vengeance over the last few days. Hiding under umbrellas the world is still ticking by. Hot coffee tickles my tiresome blank mind, the trickles of warmth from the bath eases my stressed body.

I’m feeling low (again). The reality of my life reminds me everyday with my husbands words.

He’s controlling by nature, words vindictive and spiteful. Hitting me where it hurts and possibly deserve.

The anger he carries has diminished through the years. There is no more threats or his heavy hand upon my body. I should be able to breathe but somewhere inside me I’m on alert, especially when he is drinking.

The warning signs where there from the start. What I thought was someone liking and wanting me was in fact control (not the dominance I prefer). 

And now? The mind torture I feel is somewhat worse than the fiasco of a night where he trailed me down a street and demand I drive the car over a bridge. “Lucky” for me..both of us ( I have yet to decided) someone called the police, he was arrested and the police phoned me months later for help with domestic abuse.

Me – highly dependent me, subject to domestic abuse? I couldn’t take the words, blamed myself for possibly flirting/igniting his temper. Mr A said “Get out Lucy, this is not your fault”.

Yet I blamed myself. I was having an affair with Mr A and although my boyfriend (husband now) didn’t realise I blamed myself. I still do, sometimes I wonder if I’m crazy, too sensitive to his words or in fact he is right.

The thing with my husband is he truly compliments me, tells me I’m beautiful, makes me feel on top of the world, kisses, touches and would do anything for me. The flaw…

His words….a few examples:

He complains I don’t cook or clean enough. Therefore I try harder at these tasks, when I do he says I am doing it without care, that the food is not eatable (even after 2hrs of cooking). And so he starts the cooking again to remind me of all he does and I do nothing.

Tells me no one else would ever love me, that even my family doesn’t. For years I believed this fact but no longer do.

Yesterday I was hungry, grabbing another cookie he took it from my hand “no more Lucy, your not hungry – you’ve had enough”. I complied, maybe I wasn’t hungry”.

 

I’m not allowed to say his name as apparently I patronise him when I say it. 

 

Asking him about his day (depending on his mood) can lead to an argument.

 

I rationalise that there is good and not so good personality traits in all of us. What would be the point in using “splitting” as a defence, seeing him as all good or bad.

 

My affairs excuse his words. However maybe this isn’t his fault, I’m too sensitive to him. I should let his words go and accept them as they are. One way of coping with them is to escape to another who sees my flaws but they don’t have long enough with me to get annoyed by them.

 

I will by no means excuse my appetite of affairs by blaming my husband, this was happening long enough before him.

 

I want to be accepted for me. Someone who doesn’t want to change me, to love me for me. I have never had this before. But then I don’t love me for me.

 

To think of living in this marriage for years to come leaves me in despair. I could never have children with him. Then the question pops into mind… Me, independent Lucy.. Did she ever exist? Am I staying in this marriage as I truly believe my husband… “Who would ever love me deeply enough to accept the flaws I hide so well”.

 

The secret of my marriage I have never told

The Lovers – Nocturnal Activity

After seeing Simon for three times and not involving anything sexual (very strange for me) we had our first night together.

I wish I could say it was fireworks but the relationship between Simon and I is somewhat different from the affairs I had before.

The hotel he booked was a castle in the countryside. It was charming and intriguing as he. On entering “our bedroom” for the night and on seeing the four poster bed I wanted him to tie me up there and then; taking me from behind.

“I have trouble reading you Lucy, what do you really want from tonight?”. I hide my emotions and thoughts well; I was wet and he hadn’t even touched me.

Feeling his dick rub against me; we kissed with his fingers putting pressure on my neck. I found myself flowing to another world; the world where I would forget everything and everyone, belonging only to the one who was dominating me.

We stopped as soon as it began, both hungry for sex but requiring dinner.

Dinner was fun, relaxed and he could have sat there without talking as the connection I feel when I am with him is more than words alone. I truly desire this man, in whatever form he presents to me. Enjoying a drink outside I felt I wasn’t in England, this man provides me an “escape” from the reality of the stresses and the responsible life I lead.

He had bought sex toys and plenty of them. Never being dominant before or using sex toys he seemed excited by the thought. His interest compelled him to do much research and some of his ideas are even knew to me. Yes, it would be easier to have someone with experience of dominance but underneath Simons cool exterior I think it has always been there; remaining hidden but slowly coming to the surface.

The night was “vanilla sex”. On any first time with a dominant I need to know if there is a “true connection” if there was to be any form of dominance I merely think there is a connection.

Simon was different from any of my previous lovers. He was attentive, naturally strong in his personality and his touch spiralled me into a submissive role without any constraints, whips, spanking or gags. I find myself going a little crazy reflecting on this, especially me the person who remains disconnected with the men I have affairs with but I felt more of a connection with Simon than I have ever done. It was like he was the lost part of me, I feel whole when he is near.

I don’t normally lye in a lovers arms after sex but there we lay in the four poster bed, sweat dripping from us both and his touch didn’t feel strange; it mesmerised me. I couldn’t help but cuddle him, touch every part of him and feel as close. Even when we eventually slept, I awoke him cuddling me from behind; holding me and I did not have the urge or need to push him away.

We had sex numerous times that night and with every orgasm prior and during sex, the insistent longing for him kept burning. To “cum” together seemed so powerful and raw. To have him tell me to “cum” and demand me to do so – although a form of dominance seemed so right.

The only sex toy we used was a magic bullet. He knew I was fond of them after telling him how I lost one many years ago. He thanked me for allowing him to use it on me; I too used it on him and he enjoyed the tip of his dick feeling the soothing sensations of something small but yet so powerful.

We had sex in the morning again. Me lying face down on my stomach and him entering me from behind. His body capturing and tantalising my every need for him. I was wet, dripping and have never felt my body respond like this before. He slipped out of me several times and then I was on my knees feeling him forging into me to then sit back on top of him. I was truly lost in the moment when he rubbed his hand over my clit. I can not begin to describe his touch – The only word I can think is euphoria.

I showered, changed – ready for my real role in the life I know so well. We ended up kissing and cuddling; sitting on top of him I longed to have him inside me again “Your insatiable Lucy”.

While he was in the shower I was ready to go..”Simon, I’m going”. He was surprised by this matter fact way of my departure. I was back into my detached self, no emotions and caring not for kisses. He didn’t let me go without a kiss. I know myself the departure was “cold” but something inside me got frightened by the closeness of the night we had. I usually disappear around 4am when I spend a night with a lover and with Simon even 9.30am seemed far to early to go.

We have spoken and texted since Thursday morning. He was in the area yesterday (Friday) and wanted to know if we could meet up for lunch. I declined; I need to keep myself safe from this strange and wonderful connection I have with him.

We plan to meet Wednesday afternoon as he will be passing through the area again. I am looking forward already to spending 3 hours with this wonderful stranger I have termed Simon. We will not be spending private time together, instead it will be lunch and coffee….this is strange to me….it has always been sex with the others (except Mr A), but with the start of this glorious affair; I feel an emotional connection blossoming and I’m scared.

your husband cheated

Told to perfection!

undermounted

You have been with your husband for 29 years and married for 26. You have a family and are raising children together. You manage his home and his schedule and help with his very successful business. You go on bike rides and attend functions together. He thinks you are an amazing mother and wife in every way. Every way except sexually.

How many times has he talked to you about it over the last 3 years; talked to you about the lack of connection between you as a “couple”? He asks you to go to dinner with him or the movies and you show up with one of the kids. He asks you to spend the evening with him when the kids are with the grandparents and you make up a lame excuse not to. He tells you of his frustration and how it makes him feel rejected and you…

View original post 1,529 more words

Dancing with the wolves…

Regardless of what position we play within the affair, the cheater, the mistress or the betrayed spouse we all dance with the wolves; changing our positions.

Karpman’s Relationship Triangle is an excellent demonstration on how a couple may dance when they meet (not always the case though), taking on a role from the following, possibly changing over time:

Persecutor
Victim
Rescuer

Then a third party is invited to the triangle in the form of an affair. The betrayed had no choice in the dance not inviting the other to join the unified sanction of the marriage. Only when the affair is found out the betrayed may take the unwilling victim role who is persecuted by her/his partner. The betrayed will change step slowly and may want to rescue the marriage from the unknown angst of this horrid affair. The role will change and in time they will position themselves as the persecutor in turn feeling wrongly done in turn gets angry and resentful for being made to dance with the wolves.

The cheater…he/she possibly persecutes the partner for not loving enough, lack of intimacy, communication problems, children coming first, not enough sex; the list is endless or possibly any explanation to enable them to rationalise their wayward behaviour. The cheater is now the victim in the dance and the affair partner is the rescuer from this “horrid lifestyle” but becoming the victim when the excitement of the affair is ended. The cheater will no doubt want to rescue his/her marriage, save their married partner in any way they can.

Dancing with the wolves isn’t fun but it can be one explanation of the dynamics we go through when experiencing an affair; regardless of what dynamic we are in.

Some of us are born rescuers, maybe this is how you have related to your partner from the moment you met. The victim role plays a cruel hand when we are dealt with health conditions or events outside of our control – an affair being one of them. Persecutor; the part we may not like – within us all.

I am the wolf dancing, you can catch me smiling thinking I have it all under control. I watch the dance before me, sometimes at the edge. I listen to the married men before me and more times enough I feel like rescuing their wives and not them. A horrid thing to say but the truth.

Mr M who had two children has never cooked a meal for his wife or cleaned. He played the victim role as she wasn’t interested in sex and the children came first. I tried to rescue the situation for him, explaining she might be tired keeping a house going all the time and looking after the children, the last thing she may want is sex. I gave him a recipe on how to cook an easy meal, to give her a break – he looked at me like I had horns in my head but never did bother.

I have little respect for the married men I have affairs with (except Mr A); they possibly feel the same way for me too. They become emotionally entwined in my life, seemingly wanting a care free affair and then their neediness begin. They want more time from me, more talking then they start to say I like you moving onto I love you, to then ask me …do you ever wonder what if. No, I have never wondered what if. Why would I want to be with a man who cheats, even more disturbing why would a man want to love his beloved wife, the honest one of us all for a female who is clearly a cheater. They are possibly looking for the rescuer in me but I am not here to rescue anyone; only selfish enough to rescue myself.

I leave the dance at this stage, looking for the next wolf. Wherever he may be and my dance with the wolves continue.

Domestic bliss or sex toys…..

I woke this morning to find him (my husband) rubbing my naked back, nipping my ass gently, his lips upon my neck to then grip my arms above my head. I closed my eyes and in one tasteful moment I pretended it to be Simon, on what it would feel like to have him so close. I banished this thought from my head while I gave myself to my husband to have our dogs start barking and the golden moment was broken and we did not return to it. We ate breakfast in the garden like husband and wife, I was slightly confused and frustrated on why couldn’t merely enjoy the moment. Would it have been different with Simon? Would Simon have been able to ignore the whining of dogs and take my body in that blissful moment, forgetting the outside world and being as one?

Our husband and wife and the domestic bliss we live continued, both excitedly booking our holiday for the New Year, sharing a bottle of wine over lunch and then to visit Ann Summers. My wishes to take control over me (about time!). It was only yesterday that I was in a different Ann Summers to be purchasing toys for my night with Simon. I awed in the delight of the shop with my husband beside me this time and I wanted to purchase a ball gag “Lucy, you would never wear that – your not into that and I know you better than anyone. It would be a waste of money”.

I smiled sweetly up to my husband, of course he knows me better – I would wear one at any opportunity and Simon informed me last night he has bought me the ball gag, restraints and has me guessing of the other toys. I guess a stranger knows me better?

And what have I got for Simon. I was sadly disappointed that Ann Summers don’t stock prostate massagers however I will order this for another time. Instead I have chosen a couple toy:

http://www.annsummers.com/p/lelo-tiani-2-deep-rose-vibrator/07scnras1112041

What did I buy with my husband. To avoid the fiasco of this morning I have purchased a stunning vibrator with seven different settings, it will see me through those moments when my dear husband leaves me on the lurch to see to the dogs.

http://www.annsummers.com/p/jiggle-wand-vibrator/07nchdas1201041

We bought elegant restraints with lace…will possibly stay in the box but my vibrator on the other hand will be my favourite toy for now.

Frustrated….

Dear Reader,

Sorry if my words cause you upset for the behaviour I do in secret.

I am not here to pretend to be an angel, quite the contrary. It is my own space where I tell my story like it is, no lies or secrets. I do not seek self-worth of my writing or through the men I encounter. There is an emptiness that none of them can fulfil or if I ever wish for them to do so.

I speak truth to the men I meet. I care not to change my life or change their life. I do not care for love, their money, their compliments but a  chance to escape from the wilderness of this life. Yes, there are many other ways to escape, you possibly have healthier ones than I but I do not judge you for your wrongs or rights.

Likewise, I care not for these men to ever leave their wives, if I get any inkling of this I leave and stop all contact with them. I do not beg these men to have an affair with me, they are open from the start. They treat me as they wish in the boundaries we have placed, this is the only respect we have for each other.

Maybe we are filth as you rightly pointed out, this is how I feel in my darkest moments; a form of self-punishment perhaps for all the good times I share with them?

Do I have regrets for the life I lead, yes I do but I don’t know how to stop or if indeed I want to. The pattern of my behaviour has been like this for so long but there has been many times I wanted to change and have but only to result in me lapsing.

For some, you may think I don’t love my husband. What is this based upon? The societal rules that you follow and what you are taught as love? Maybe I explore the meaning of love in other ways. I am not saying what I do is right, far from it.

I have looked at my husband many times, feeling the guilt and shame for my actions. I have finished with him but he says he is not ready to let go. In fact during those difficult times when I want our marriage to end and I am so close in telling him about my affairs it is then that he talks about “suicide”, how he couldn’t cope without me in his life and he just wouldn’t know what to do. This plays on my heart, yes I have a heart buried deep in my soul that you may not see within my blogs. I want to protect him but yet he knows I will always be there. I know I will never be there 100%.

We have tried couple therapy but I look at him in those vulnerable moments and I can’t help but to keep my secrets safe from him as I can’t dare to shatter his hope that me Lucy, his wife is not the faithful person he thinks. Therefore couple therapy is not useful unless we share all the parts of ourself..the good and the bad.

And like this blog, I have never sugar coated my words to describe my actions as good or bad. It is a safe haven for me to explore my thoughts, behaviour and feelings and hopefully one stage, like you my dear reader be the faithful lady to a husband that loves me.

I am sorry to have upset you.

Lucy x