Sunday morning's post was in regards to having to wait for him to make his move. Sometimes it's frustrating, I feel like a gift that is all wrapped up, patiently, painstakingly, making sure every part of the package is as beautiful and inviting as I can make it... so when he doesn't approach me for sex... it can feel like he is rejecting the gift. Now I know, rationally, that we are not going to have sex every day. I understand that life gets in the way and we're only human, we get tired, sick, worn down. But emotionally, I want to feel close to him. He isn't a verbal person, he doesn't talk about feelings, he shows me with actions; therefore, I want sex even more so that I can feel connected and close to him. We didn't have sex on Friday or Saturday, I was feeling a bit frustrated by Sunday.
Sunday night we had to be at an event. Our weekends are very busy, so I was meeting him there. As I got ready to go, I got a bit evil. Now I know he is a sucker for garter belts and stockings - he just is, it's hard wired. I just happened to have an all in one, long sleeve fishnet dress with attached garter belt and stockings that I had picked up and hadn't worn yet. So I finished my hair and make up and slithered into it. Looking in the mirror, I wasn't completely satisfied - my body isn't exactly centerfold material and there was no support for my boobs. But I knew he would like it, if only for the exoticism plus the garter belt and stockings. I was tempted to just wear my trench coat over it but my inner voice was saying things like, "What if there was an accident and that was all you had on?", so I put on a black, ankle length skirt (with a slit up the side) and a black sweater over the top of it. Of course, I still wore my trench coat - I didn't have a bra on after all! So really all you could see was a flash of fishnet stockings when the slit moved.
When I got there he asked what took me so long as his eyes looked me over. I actually saw his pupils dilate when he saw the glimpse of fishnet - what a powerful, feminine feeling! The entire time we were there he kept looking at my ankles and trying to get a glimpse of the bit of calf that showed through the slit before my trench coat covered it. I had truly forgotten what it felt like to have that attention from him outside of the bedroom - I was giddy to say the least. When the evening was over, I left quickly before him and drove home. As soon as I got home I quickly ran in the bedroom, ditched the long skirt and sweater and put on a jersey wrap dress. I was still decently covered, but the dress showed more of my legs. I carried on like nothing was up, clearing dishes and tidying up before bed. I said goodnight to him and our children who were still up (they were all on the couch watching TV) and taking a book with me went and laid on the bed. I let him handle getting everyone off to bed. Once I heard him locking up for the night, I ran in the bathroom, freshened up and was patiently waiting on the bed when he came in.
As soon as he came in the room, he clicked off the lights. "Hey, I'm reading here," I said. "Not anymore," he growled and lay on the bed next to me. He gathered me into his arms, one arm under my neck and ran his hand up my leg, feeling the stockings. His arm under my neck was rigid, I could feel how muscular he is and his hard hand possessively sweeping up my leg - it was incredibly erotic. He just shoved my covering dress up out of his way as his hand continued to roughly caress all the way up to my neck, feeling as he did the fishnet dress covering me. He slid his hands down and around my back, down to my ass, feeling the way the dress stopped and the garters began. He kind of growled, deep in his throat, and then my non-verbal husband became... umm... very verbal and demanding.
"Are you mine?", he asked. "Yes, I love you," I whispered. But that wasn't enough as he swooped his head down, capturing a nipple and sucking it through the fishnet and into his mouth. "Are you mine?", he growled around my nipple clamped between his teeth, but I could only mewl a response as the feel of his lips and teeth and the fishnet all blended together and my nipples got so hard they almost hurt.
He quickly shoved two fingers into me and said, "Is this my pussy?". I whimpered as his fingers plunged in again and as that wasn't an answer he added another finger and stretched me tightly. "Is this my pussy?", he asked again. "Yes," I moaned. "And is this my ass?", he asked as he slowly slid a finger in. "Yes, yes," I gasped as I felt him stretching me there. He began to move his fingers together, sliding them in and out of both my slit and my ass until I was panting for release. Quickly he withdrew his fingers and slapped my pussy several times before plunging back in and moving his fingers against my g-spot as he again slid a finger into my ass. "Is this my pussy?, he demanded as he slipped his fingers out and rubbed them rapidly, harshly against my clitoris. And then it happened... and it happened over and over (we'll discuss this more later). But I had multiple, multiple orgasms while he was doing that. He continued to finger me, there was oral, there was a lot of fun stuff and more orgasms before he pulled me onto my knees and with his fists in my hair thrust his cock over and over into my mouth. He pulled me on top of him and made me ride through two more orgasms (with a few spanks on the ass to keep me moving but not spanking per say). We finished with him behind me, me almost upright on my knees holding on to the bedpost for dear life as he held my head up with my hair fisted in his hands. It was, hands down, the most amazing sex of my life.
But afterwards, when he got up to use the bathroom; as I lay there and tried to remember to breathe, eventually I had to move over to my side of the bed. I concentrated very hard and made a tremendous effort to get my body (I was completely limp, boneless and sated) to move over to my side of the bed, which was where the first few orgasms happened, before he had me climb on top of him. There was the wet spot - which wasn't a wet spot at all - it was a lake. I didn't know what to think - this had never happened before. I was standing on shaky legs, stripping off the sheets when he came back in. "What are you doing?", he asked with a bit of a smirk. "The sheets are wet," I mumbled as I quickly bundled them and the mattress protector (Thank God I had one on the bed!) into a ball. "Well, there have been wet spots before," he said - again with a bit of a smirk. "This is too wet," I whispered as I pulled a blanket over the mattress in lieu of sheets. I went into the bathroom to wash up - What happened? Did I come so hard I peed? I went back into bed on still shaky legs and we snuggled in and went to sleep, but I was so mortified. Did he notice? Did I pee? Oh, My God, what it he thinking?
When we woke up the next morning, the house was quiet and everyone was still asleep. I actually woke up first and snuggled up to him. He pulled me close and as I lay with my head on his chest I began to stroke my way down only to discover part of him wide awake and ready for the day. Slow sweet morning sex - yum! But I was still embarrassed about the night before, and I was unusually quiet as we went about our mornings. I couldn't look at him without blushing and he couldn't (or wouldn't) stop smirking at me.
As soon as he left for one of his errands I ran to put the sheets in the wash. Looking at the sheets the wet stuff was whitish, not yellow thank God, and smelling it (of course I smelled it - I had to - what the hell was this?) it didn't smell like pee, kind of, but not really (and with three kids I have changed pee sheets before - this didn't look or smell like that) but then what the hell was it?
Once I had the wash started I ran to Google. Can I just say that the value of Google is underrated - how would I have ever know what had happened without it? This was not taught in sex ed. But apparently (and for those of you who already knew this - "THBPBPTHPT!" [that's me, sticking out my tongue and blowing a raspberry] - I never even heard of it. I've actually spent days thinking about this and I can only remember once, in college hearing of it. And then, the girl who told me about it thought she had peed - so there!) it is actually called female ejaculation, more commonly known as squirting.
You can look it up yourself if you don't believe me, but according to Wikipedia "Female ejaculation is the expulsion of fluid by human females from the paraurethral ducts through and around the urethra during or before an orgasm. It is also known colloquially as gushing or squirting, although these are considered to be different phenomena in some research publications. The exact source and nature of the fluid continue to be a topic of debate among medical professionals, which is also related to doubts over the existence of the G-Spot."
Basically, we women all have the ability to do this but it doesn't always happen. This is a great article too: http://www.mamiverse.com/female-ejaculation-guide-17276/
So, of course I needed to know more. I discovered that according to the Chinese Tao, there are nine levels of orgasm. Yes, I believe my husband took me through all nine levels Sunday night. That is a bit scary because the 9th level is total surrender. Which has thrown me for an emotional loop.
|Level||Energized Organs||Observable Response|
|One||Lungs||The woman sighs, breathes heavy, salivates|
|Two||Heart||Woman extends tongue to her lover while kissing|
|Three||Spleen, Pancreas, Stomach||Woman grasps and holds man tightly with activated muscles|
|Four||Kidneys, Bladder||Vaginal spasms and secretions flow|
|Five||Bones||Joints loosen and she may feel the urge to bite her lover|
|Six||Liver, Nerves||Woman undulates and gyrates like a snake, wrapping limbs around her lover|
|Seven||Blood||Blood boiling, she frantically touches her lover everywhere|
|Eight||Muscles||Muscles relax. Urge to bite intensifies as she grabs her lover's nipples|
|Nine||Entire Body Energized||Woman collapses in "mini death", surrenders to her lover and is completely open|
So, even now that I know all of this, when we had sex on Monday night, I found myself holding back a bit. I still had my orgasms, but I wouldn't let myself completely let go like I did on Sunday. And I found myself doing the same thing on Tuesday night (I got my maintenance spanking on Tuesday night too, and it was a good one) and I didn't let go completely even though I was in a very submissive state of mind. I think on Tuesday night it was more the fear of ruining the sheets again than a fear of surrendering, but either way, I was still holding back. Maybe because he wasn't as verbally forceful and commanding as he was on Sunday. Sunday night I submitted completely. Mentally and physically - I was his.
Which means there are no more guards, no more barriers. I didn't realize it, but I think I've always had a bit of a barrier, always had my guard up. I mean, when I met my husband I had a past. I had previous lovers. I had been hurt. So maybe I was afraid to be hurt again, maybe I never really let go. When things were bad between us, even when the sex was good there was a guard, a barrier - I was never completely open to him. We've been married for 15 years, three children, love, laughter, good times, loss of loved ones, we've been close - we've been estranged, but in all of those years I have never been this open.
So as I am working through this emotionally I came across a picture that described it perfectly - and of course now I cannot remember who's blog I saw it on. But it was a beautiful black and white picture of a woman just leaving her swing on the trapeze and reaching out, body arched, trusting that her partner will catch her safely. She hasn't quite left her swing yet, but you know the momentum is going to carry her into space any moment - and you know that he will be there to catch her as she free falls... I believe that we are right in that moment now - and I have to trust that the water isn't too deep - I have to trust he will catch me if I let go...