Trouble squared

Yesterday morning, about 8:00, our power cut off. I didn’t think too much of it at first because they’ve been blasting nearby and it’s been briefly cutting off and then back on again. After about 10 minutes had passed, I got more concerned. I called the electric company to report our outage and was notified via automated voice that the reason our lights were out was because the light bill wasn’t paid! I promptly pushed zero a bunch of times so I could reach an actual human because I knew I had mailed in a check toward the end of July and I was ready to let the incompetent fools have it. They don’t play around here. If your bill isn’t paid by the next months meter reading, they’ll cut ya off, so I’ve always made sure I got a check in on time. As I was waiting for the human I planned to give a piece of my mind, I opened my bill planner notebook to look up exactly when I’d mailed in the check. As I flipped through the pages, an envelope stamped and addressed to the power company fell out… I would have sworn I’d mailed that! I could’ve passed a lie detector I was so sure of it. Clearly, I had not, in fact, put a check in the mail. Mercifully, the elevator music playing through my phone was still going and nobody had answered my call yet. After a couple of minutes, a nice lady answered and I explained my situation. I was thoroughly embarrassed. We’ve never had a utility cut off for non payment before. I have always done a good job staying on top of our bills and payments. Adam also knows when everything is due and often double checks that everything’s taken care of each week. Our system always worked well, until yesterday. I paid the bill over the phone which cost an extra $2.50 for the convenience of using their automated phone pay system plus an extra $37 “reconnect fee”. This was an expensive mistake! I was dreading the evening when Adam would come home and I’d have to tell him. I briefly considered keeping my screw up a secret, but I’m a shitty liar and the guilt always gets to me anyway. It wasn’t punishment I was afraid of. I was ashamed and worried that Adam wouldn’t trust me to take care of our finances anymore. I knew that I had let him down, even if it wasn’t a purposeful mistake. Had I been paying attention, I get bank notifications for every debit and credit on our account and that check should’ve gone through within a couple days of mailing the check.

I have to take my daughter to her bus stop, and this blog is long enough already, so I’m going to end on a cliffhanger and I’ll post a part 2 later today. I called this blog “trouble squared” because had I not chosen to open my great big sassy mouth while Adam was lecturing me, I’d have gotten off relatively easy. Instead, I thought it was a good time to be a smart ass.

It wasn’t me

This afternoon, some of our neighbors right behind us were having a birthday party for their daughter. There was a bouncy house and pool party and at least 30 kids were there. The adults were outnumbered by quite a bit. I think there were about 10 of us. We live in the south. We’re all at least a little bit “redneck” in my neighborhood, so of course there were adult drinks being served. Maybe y’all have adult beverages at kids birthday parties in other parts of the country/world too, I’m not really sure? I wouldn’t even think of going overboard and getting sloshed at a kid’s birthday party, though. The mom of the kid having the birthday party (I’ll call her L) had a lot too much today. It was pretty embarrassing to be honest. I like L. She’s a fun girl and I know she loves her kids, but she didn’t use her mom brain today at all. She had disappeared inside and I heard some yelling. Next thing I knew, someone else was calling for L’s husband, J, to get inside right away. I kept my butt firmly planted where I was because I was absolutely not getting involved in whatever drama was taking place inside!! I heard some more yelling from L and then it got quiet. A few minutes later, J re-emerged outside. Of course, everyone wanted to know what happened and J casually tells us “I busted her butt. I told her if she didn’t settle down I was gonna bust her butt, and she wouldn’t listen.” Bust your butt here means give someone a spanking. It’s said to kids often. Apparently, L was getting into a heated argument with another person who was inside with her and she was slamming cupboards and throwing things on the floor like a lunatic. Literally no one at the party batted an eye when J told us what he’d done. I was considering sneaking inside to check on L and honestly, I wanted to be nosy and find out what had her so upset in the first place, but Adam grabbed my hand, pulled me back to him, and whispered in my ear, “if you take one step inside there I’ll come bust your ass too.”

So, this was my afternoon! I can’t even imagine how angry Adam would’ve been if I acted like L did today. She is about ten years younger than I am, so I suppose she’s still learning to adult. Her husband is 14 years older than her, so he’s also more settled down and mature. I have heard J make little comments to L about putting her over his knee. Heck, he even said it to me once not long ago (jokingly). I had no idea until today that he was ever serious about his threats to her though. How crazy is it that I actually know people in my real life who are like Adam and I?! Also, how crazy is it that not one single adult there thought anything of it when J announced her just gone inside and spanked his wife? I feel like y’all are going to think I’m telling stories here. Cross my heart, it’s 100% truth! I didn’t get a chance to talk to L alone after all that. I’m still dying to know what the world made her so angry in the first place. If I find out anything else worth reporting here, I’ll update tomorrow. As for me, I am able to sit comfortably tonight because I wasn’t about to get my butt whooped at a neighbor’s party.

“Dad bods”

Adam played football in college. When we first met, he was ripped. I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t notice or enjoy that, but his body truly wasn’t what attracted me to him at the time. Muscle-y jocks are a dime a dozen when you’re in your 20s. He had packed on a few pounds over the years and had a bit of a gut poking out. I wasn’t any less attracted to him for it. In fact, I grow more crazy about my husband each passing year. However, he has recently lost nearly 40 pounds. He’s been eating better and getting more exercise in. The weight literally seemed to have melted off of him overnight. I suppose we don’t notice small changes over a period of time as easily. This morning, though, I was up before Adam (a rare occasion). I decided to get his coffee started for him and I was just switching it on when he came around the corner into the kitchen. He had teal and blue basketball shorts on and nothing else. His hair was messy, but in a good way. In that moment, watching him walk into the kitchen, I really noticed him. I saw his newly returned washboard abs and broad shoulders. My eyes wandered to my absolute favorite part of a man’s body, their hip bones where they stick out just above their pants in front. My panties are getting wet again just thinking about him. As Adam strode over and gave me a good morning kiss and squeezed my ass, I felt like the luckiest, most happy girl in the world. That sexy man is all mine! I may have to send the kids out to play this evening because I don’t think I can wait until their bedtime to get him back inside me.

Summer’s end

We’re leaving tomorrow evening for the Midwest. Adam’s mom lives out in the middle of nowhere in a town smaller than our culdesac. Think oz, as in Wizard of Oz. Small town Kansas. It’s our last trip of summer before our kids start school and the chaos begins again. I have so enjoyed having my kiddos all to myself this summer. I always feel a twinge if sadness when they start back to school because I lose them a little more each year. They have their friends to play with, they ask their teachers what the moon is made of, they don’t need their mama as much. My kids are 8 and 10 years old. I know every parent says it, but I really do have great kids. They’re kind, polite, respectful, helpful, sweet as can be. I get told regularly how well behaved my kids are. Watching them grow is such a bittersweet privilege. I’m blessed to be their mama and it’s amazing seeing the kind of individual people they’re becoming. I sometimes wish I could keep them little just a little longer.

I’m nervous to make this trip with my leg out of commission. A 12 hour car ride is going to be miserable I think. Wish me luck y’all, I’m probably going to need it! The one positive this injury has given me, is that Adam is babying the heck out of me. He just got back home from the store to get me some mint chocolate chip ice cream I was craving. He came home from work and cooked us all supper too. I do miss his playful smacks on my bottom and our typical back and forth with tickles and any excuse to touch each other. He’s afraid to hurt me, so of course he’s not picking on me right now. Last night, he even shaved my legs for me and he painted my toenails! My son keeps asking me “Are you okay mama? Can I get something for you?” And my daughter played with my hair and laid next to me on the couch for hours today. I truly have the best family a girl could ask for ❤️

TTWD

TTWD, This Thing We Do, is sort of an all inclusive term for couples who incorporate any kind of “kink” into their lives. At least, that’s what I’ve understood it to mean anyway. I’ve been thinking, aren’t we all a little bit kinky? Who doesn’t have a fantasy or fetish? There are so many different things people can be into. From the common ones like playing “naughty nurse” or dressing in a sexy French maid’s uniform, to foot fetishes and beyond. I’m certainly not one to judge others for their own kinks, whatever they may be. It is rather annoying how judgmental some folks are about what other consenting couples are doing. I’ve received zero criticism for anything I’ve blogged here, and I’m grateful for that. However, I have seen plenty of online conversations where others have chimed in with their holier than thou attitudes concerning other couples and their turn ons. I feel genuinely sorry for those people because their sex lives must be absolutely bland or non existent. Now I’m not suggesting that we can’t share our own preferences or talk about why something others are into just isn’t your flavor. I’m talking about the buzz kills who do their best to shame and belittle people for opening up about what they’re into. Clearly, I like to discuss my own take on incorporating DD and a little BSDM into Adam and my relationship. I expect there to be very few (if any) folks who always agree with how I like to do things. That’s okay! I subscribe to and read a lot of other couple’s stories about their lives. Just because I’m not into all of the same things they are, that doesn’t mean I don’t find enough in common to find their writing interesting. Do I find some things to be a little weird? Sure. Feet gross me the hell out! You’ll never hear about me sucking someone’s nasty toes. To each their own though. We’re all a little weird, aren’t we?

To all my fellow kinksters in blog land, don’t worry about what other people think. Share your thoughts and don’t be afraid to talk about your secret fantasies. I have a theory that the people claiming to be the most horrified by our openness about what heats us up, are actually just really frustrated with their own inability to admit they’re kinky too. I mean, why else would they be reading your blog?

Safe words

Adam and I have never actually had “safe words”. When it comes to sex, “no, stop, please” are all words that will put an immediate halt to things. I rarely say any of them, but it has happened, and Adam has always respected my requests. When it comes to spanking, there are also no safe words, however I realized just yesterday that there is one tiny phrase that Adam will pause for. “I’m scared.” I have only ever said it a few times before, but when he pulled a hairbrush out of the drawer, I was afraid. It’s been months since I’ve felt the sting of a hairbrush. He’d gotten me into position and had his arm raised when I said it, I’m scared. He brought his spanking hand down and used his other one to hold my hand he’d already pinned behind my back. I didn’t get out of the spanking, but that small gesture made me feel safe and comforted. Obviously, there’s an element of fear when you know your butt’s about to get whooped, but Adam would never want to do anything emotionally damaging to me. It’s important to him that I feel secure in those vulnerable moments. I honestly have never consciously thought to vocalize those words as an attempt to stop, or even pause, a spanking. It’s always genuine when I’ve said it. I guess I just hadn’t ever really thought about their impact. I love that Adam knew exactly what I needed. I love that he listens to what I’m expressing in words and in my actions. I’ve never felt the need for a safe word with Adam. We are so deeply connected to one another, he can always read my body language. He gets me.

Practical submission

What does submission really look like? Have you ever been stopped by the police? Maybe you were going too fast. Maybe you had a taillight out. When you see those lights flip on in your rear view mirror, you know exactly what you’re supposed to do next. You find a place to safely pull over and you fumble through the glovebox for your insurance and registration. The first question every officer asks is “Do you know why I pulled you over?” Now, there is always a dilemma going on in my mind when I’m asked that question. Do I admit I knew I was speeding? Do I feign surprise when he tells me I’ve got a tail light out that I’ve actually known about for months?

I was once pulled over when I was 16 years old for running a stop sign. Thing was, it wasn’t me. I had a cousin who looks more like my twin who also happened to drive a car very similar to mine, same in color, and with the same style license plate. We were both driving in the same town around the same block at the same time. When the officer told me he’d seen me run the stop sign, I was frustrated because I knew that I had not done that! I tried to argue that it was not me who’d done that, but the officer was having none of it. I realized quickly I wasn’t going to win this argument and if I didn’t shut my mouth, it was only going to get worse for me. He gave me a verbal warning and let me go.

Things like that happen in marriage sometimes too. Adam will come to me with “Do you know why I’m upset with you?” I have to quickly decide how I’m going to answer that question. How much does he actually know? Is he talking about what happened yesterday, or does he know about that other thing? Sometimes, I’m genuinely not sure what I’ve done. Occasionally, I completely disagree that what I’ve done was in any way wrong. Rarely, but it happens, I didn’t do what he’s accusing me of. I have choices to make in every situation like these. I can get angry and defensive. I can cry and plead. I can play dumb about it. Or, I can humble myself and listen carefully to what he’s saying whether or not I agree with him. Adam is always willing to listen to my side of the story. He gives me the benefit of doubt much more often than not. He’s never cruel. We do not always agree, though.

Submission does not mean I can’t give my opinions. It doesn’t mean I can’t disagree. Submission is pulling over when you see those red and blue lights flashing behind you. There’s a right way to disagree. If you choose to argue your case, you can go to court and do so, respectfully. If you get belligerent and angry at the officer, it’s not going to end well. That officer has the authority to put you in handcuffs and throw you in jail if you decide to escalate the situation. In the same way, my husband has the authority to discipline me if I refuse to cooperate respectfully. I can still be in submission and argue my case if I just do it in the right way.

It isn’t always easy to submit. It can get ugly real fast if I get indignant and uncooperative because I know I’m right and he’s wrong. Submission is something we all do everyday. We submit to the laws and the people who uphold them. We submit to our bosses. Submission is not something only weak or mindless people can do. I think it takes strength to submit. It takes humility to admit when you’re wrong. It also takes integrity and good character to be worthy of submission. A tyrant can force others to physically submit to their will, but only those who have earned trust and respect are worthy of true submission of the heart, mind, and body.

God + marriage = good sex?

For all of you believers and the secularists out there, I was recently asked about my own faith and how I reconcile that with my insatiable appetite for all things sexy. Everyone who knows Adam and I, know that we enjoy each other’s bodies daily, sometimes multiple times in a day. We have a marriage that those around us repeatedly tell us they envy. My single girlfriends say they want to find their own “Adam”. After more than a decade together, we are still in love and can’t keep our hands off one another. We bicker sometimes, occasionally really piss each other off, but no matter what, we never even think about ending our relationship. Divorce is NOT an option. We pray before meals, attend church, and are open about our faith. And then we go to bed and f#(k each other’s brains out. We have a drawer full of toys and flavored lube. We regularly experiment with new places and positions. We have never brought anyone else into our bed and we are 100% faithful to each other. Besides that, I can’t think of anything we haven’t or wouldn’t try.

I had only one other sexual partner before my husband. He didn’t treat me very well at all. He was selfish and used me like a plaything for his own pleasure without considering or caring for mine. Needless to say, I didn’t particularly enjoy or look forward to sex when I first met Adam. It was just something I did to keep my man interested and happy. Adam showed me a completely new version of sex like I’d never known was possible. He took care to make certain that I was enjoying it. He was cautious about doing anything that might hurt me, unless I specifically asked him for it. Adam had a whole lot more experience than I did with the opposite sex. I almost refused to date him when I found that out because I wasn’t sure I could trust a man to be faithful who had been around the block so many times. I’m so glad I took that risk anyway! Adam has never cheated. I don’t believe he would ever hurt me like that either.

Neither of us had a relationship with God before we got together. Personally, I’d never doubted His existence, but I used to say I just wasn’t ready to be that good yet. Christians are so boring. I’ve learned that’s not the case at all. God is actually pretty kinky! Ever read Song of Solomon?! Of course, the stipulation was marriage and commitment. God wants us to have as much kinky sex as we desire, within the confines of marriage. I happen to be married, so as a Christian, I don’t have to feel guilty about sex. I’m absolutely not judging anyone who isn’t married and enjoys sex. I’ve been there. Adam’s been there, many many times. I’m only trying to explain how my own faith can work with TTWD (This Thing We Do). I believe God intends for a husband to be in authority over his wife. I believe husbands are to love their wife as Christ loves the church, so like, A LOT). I try to live in submission because I believe it’s what we’re told to do, but also because it’s what I deeply desire to do. I feel safe, cherished, protected, loved, wanted, needed, adored when I give Adam the gift of my submission. Is it always easy for me? NO! (Read my blog post immediately ahead of this one lol). I falter, stumble, fail, but that’s where Adam comes in. I want him, need him to love me enough to discipline me. I crave the emotional release I get when the guilt and shame of my destructive behavior are washed clean by my husband’s loving hand.

Is all this biblical or “Christian” of us? I think so. We’re not perfect examples of Christians. Not even close. But, I do not believe for a second that what we do in our relationship with each other is wrong or goes against Christ teachings. I’m sure there are plenty of bible thumping, fire and brimstone believers who’d have lots to say about why I’m wrong. I couldn’t care less what they think, though. I care what God thinks. I care what my husband thinks. Nobody else’s opinions matter much to me.

Good girl

Very few things get me hotter than hearing my husband whisper “good girl” in my ear as I’m taking whatever it is he’s giving me in that moment. Those two little words can make me cooperate with just about anything Adam wants me to do. Wanna spank me? Tell me I’m a good girl. Want a blow job? Tell me what a good girl I am. I don’t exactly know why that gets me so turned on, but ohhhh myyy gawd, it does.

Am I alone, or are there other ladies who love (or would love) to be told what a good girl they are?

Feminine-ism

I call myself a femininitist. That’s not a misspelling of feminist. As I’ve said before, I’m all about equal rights for men and women. I believe we should all have the ability to make choices for ourselves about what we want to do with our lives. I do not, however, believe that women need to become men to achieve equality of the sexes. Too many people seem to equate being equal to mean “the same”. Men and women are not the same, and that’s okay! We have equal value as a person. We have equal rights. We have more similarities than differences, really. Personally, I love men and masculinity. I’m not talking about the guy who can bench press 800 pounds, degrades others, picks fights, and treats women like objects to be used and abused. I mean real, healthy, sexy, masculinity. A man who knows he can take care of business. A man who can and will do whatever it takes to protect others, but also has self control and doesn’t have to be a dick to get control of a situation. I’ve seen Adam deescalate plenty of almost fights. If a man hurt me or threatened me, I have no doubt Adam would knock him to the ground if he had to, but I love the quiet strength he exudes. Violence isn’t the go to option. It’s a last resort. If it’s necessary, he will absolutely put himself in harms way to protect those he cares about. The word masculinity has gotten a bad rep and that seriously bothers me. People are lumping all men together as if they’re all violent, sexist, heartless unless they denounce their manhood in favor of more feminine behaviors and attitudes. You need to be more like women, men and boys are being told.

On the flip side, girls and women are being taught that we need to act like men. Fight the patriarchy! Resist any man who tries to pay for your dinner, open your door for you, offers to help lift something heavy…Any sign of masculinity from a man is shunned. If a woman gets loud, bossy, threatens to punch your lights out, objectifies men, treats them as second class, that’s not only encouraged, it’s celebrated! We seem to be taking these stereotypes of truly toxic behavior generalized as masculinity and trying to emulate those characteristics as women. These are not desirable traits in a man or a woman.

If we could just embrace our own feminine powers and realize that we can do so much more to achieve success in our lives if we accept and use our uniquely feminine attributes and abilities, we could do anything! Men want to make us happy. I read about this type of bird who will work and work to build the most beautiful nest to attract his mate. He finds shiny pieces of foil and string to decorate the nest with. If, after some time has passed, no mate has shown interest in his nest, he will tear it down and start all over. Ladies, men are so much like those birds. They want to please us! Understand and use their desire to make us happy instead of insulting and degrading them for it. Masculine and feminine are ying and yang. We work beautifully together. I call myself a femininitist because I love femininity. I can’t open the pickle jar, lift that heavy box, or pee standing up, but I can grow our beautiful babies in my belly and then feed them with my own body. I beat my husband at scrabble every single time. Adam asks me for help writing a paper because he knows I’m a spelling and grammar queen. He brings home the bacon, I fry it up. Of course, this is not the way all men and women would like to live out their marriage, and that’s okay too. As for me though, I’m a femininitist.