Pain

Adam didn’t get home from work until after 7:00pm, last night. We had, what I call, a “fend” night. I got out leftover chili, beef and noodles, and lasagne. The kids had already eaten and gone off to their rooms to do their own things, by the time Adam got home. I was loading the dishwasher, when he walked into the kitchen. He smiled at me, then gestured toward our bedroom, and told me to come with him. I asked him, “Don’t you want to eat first?” He said nope, he’d eat later. He wanted to “do this” now. I walked to our bedroom. He followed, close behind.

As soon as he shut the door, I held up my hands, as if to say “stop for a second”, and I told him I needed to say something. I explained, “Do you remember Shannon’s friend, Sheyenne?” He nodded. I went on, “I was talking to Shannon, and Sheyenne asked me if I was going to see my mom. I told her absolutely not. She gave me the most condescending look and told me ‘that’s your MOM’. It really upset me, because she has no idea what she’s talking about, but made that kind of judgement and it made me feel like I had done something horrible. Then, Jelly Roll’s new song dropped, and you know that’s hard for me. I was just so sad, pissed off, frustrated, and overwhelmed. I know I took that out on you, and I’m sorry for that.”

Adam just said, “You’re right. You shouldn’t have handled it that way.” Then, he walked over to me, and bent me over the edge of our bed. He placed his left hand on my back, pulled my pants down, and began to spank me with his hand. I wiggled and squirmed, and shouted, “OWW ADAM, THAT HURTS!” I’ve never said that, during a spanking, before. He lifted his left hand, off my back, and I slid down on my hands and knees, onto the floor. I pushed my face into the side of our bed. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t speak or move. Adam picked me up, sat on our bed, and put me on his lap. I straddled him, with my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. I continued to cry into his shoulder. His whole demeanor had softened. He held me and we spent a long time like that. He told me how much he loves me, and that he is always here for me. He said that he wishes I would just come and talk to him, when I’m having a bad day, because he’s on my side. He said that I don’t even have to talk about things I’m not ready to. I can just tell him I’m having a bad day, and then talk more when I’m ready. The only thing I cannot do, is speak to him like I had, the night before. I don’t remember what it was he said, but he made me giggle, a couple of times, during this conversation, too. He got serious again, and asked me, “Are you going to work on doing a better job of communicating with me?” I nodded. He tilted his head, and gave me a “look”. I said, “yes, sir”. Then he told me, “Good. Now we have to finish your spanking. We’re only halfway through.” I was still straddling his lap. He wrapped his arm around me, giving me no way to escape or even move. I clung to his neck and buried my face into his shoulder, again. The last half of my spanking wasn’t as painful, but it wasn’t pleasant either.

When it was over, Adam held me for awhile. Finally, he stood us both up, and kissed the top of my head. I walked into our bathroom. He went out to the kitchen, to get his supper. I stood in front of the mirror, willing myself not to let anymore tears come. Despite my best efforts, more tears escaped. I kept using my hands to dry my eyes, before they could fall down my cheeks. I think I needed that “release”. To let myself cry for a minute. There’s never a good time to do that. You can’t just carve out time to go fall apart. It builds and builds, until I can’t hold it in any longer.

The rest of our evening was peaceful. We spent nearly an hour talking in the shower. When we climbed in bed, I laid my head on Adam’s chest for a few minutes. Then, I sat up, and looked him in the eyes. I asked him, “Please love me. I need you to love me.” Then, I pulled him so he was laying on top of me. He was very tender and spent a lot of time kissing me, and running his hands over my body. I woke up, this morning, wearing only his t-shirt. My behind is a little sore. I feel a lot better, though. Emotionally, I’m in a much better place. I had asked Adam, last night, “When does it stop? How long is my mother going to be able to hurt me like this? Why can’t I make it stop?!” He told me that, it probably won’t ever stop, but he’s always going to be here for me, and that he wished he could take it away. I really did marry my Prince Charming. ❤️

I Need More Time

I was standing here, in front of my kitchen sink, listening to the sound of my kids playing and laughing outside. My daughter’s best friend is here, for the weekend. The three of them are having so much fun. I see them jump on the trampoline. I see them running around on the swing set, playing hide and seek. Oliver (our dog) chases them. It’s the most precious sights and sounds. I thought, I need more time. It isn’t long enough that I have left, hearing their laughter, while I’m watching my kids play out in our backyard. They keep on growing up. One day, not long enough from now, I won’t be able to look out my window, and see my babies playing happily. They’ll be off, doing grown up things, with their own lives to live. They won’t be here, everyday. This is very hard for me to think about. I know the goal is to raise independent, intelligent, productive people. Grow them into people who can go out into the world and make something for themselves. I only wish I could slow it down, just a little. I’m trying to “soak in” these last years, with them here. I’m trying to live “in the moment”, with them, while they’re here. How many more Christmas seasons will my children be here to help me decorate? I do a thing, every year, we call “25 days of Christmas”. It starts on Nov 30. Every single day is an activity. I plan a calendar. Some days we are making a paper chain to count down the days til Christmas. Some days, we’re drinking hot cocoa and watching a Christmas themed movie. Some days, we make cards to send to soldiers who are deployed, and won’t be home for Christmas. We make “wish lists”. We donate to those less fortunate. We make gift bags to hand out to the homeless, full of all kinds of essentials and yummy snacks. We make cookies and candy. How much longer? I look forward to making our “25 days of Christmas” calendar, every year!

Everyone has their gifts. Everyone has something they are just real good at. My thing? Being a mama. That’s all I ever wanted. Since I was a small child, I dreamt of becoming a mom. I’m not perfect. I’ve made my share of mistakes. Being their mama is my pride and joy, though. Being a good mama is everything to me. Of course, I aim to be the best wife, sister, daughter, and friend that I can be. I’m doing the thing I was meant to, right now. But, I need more time! There’s still so much I want to do with my babies. I’m not ready for them to grow.

I wrote the first half of this, yesterday evening. It is now Saturday morning. Adam did go into work, early. I felt him climb out of bed at around 5:00am. I stayed in bed. I was watching a movie, Christmas themed (of course), with the dogs curled up in bed with me. I heard our system announce “person detected at front door”. I grabbed my phone and checked. It was my son, running out to meet an adult friend of ours who hires him to help with his Lawncare business, sometimes. They had made tentative plans to do some work, but I never dreamed they’d actually be working in this cold weather. I got up and went to go check outside. I wanted to see if there was any snow. We did not get snow here. We did get some ICE, though. The rain has frozen into a nice sheet of ice over everything. I panicked and sent Adam a text. I told him I don’t like our son being out in it! Adam insisted the roads are fine. I sent this picture I took of the deck, covered in ice.

Hard to see, but that IS ice frozen on the table, chairs, and deck there.

I text our son. I didn’t think it looked like he had a heavy coat on, when he left. He insisted that he did have it, and he would stay safe. I had to laugh, because our son is just like Adam, when he texts me. It’s both adorable and frustrating!

The arrow there points to the screenshot of my texts with our son. I sent it to Adam.

One more thing I wanted to add to my post, for today. The truth is, I’m still embarrassed. I realized, last night, that I had done something Adam absolutely hates, a few days ago. He’s had a long week. I never wanted to add to it. So, I had sort of, totally “sidestepped” the truth about something really stupid. I knew I was going to have to tell him. I wasn’t sure I’d find the courage to do it last night, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it in for long.

When we got in the shower, I asked him, “So, what if I told you something that made you real mad, this week. This week, that I’ve tried SO hard to be supportive and a great wife. This week, that you’ve not quite been yourself.” He asked me what I was trying to tell him? I immediately started to sob. I mean, I was shook up. I explained that I have felt so proud and so good. I told him, I know it was stupid. I wanted to tell him the truth in a way that caused the least upset or aggravation, because he was not very happy, all week. He softened, a lot. He reminded me that he has not come home angry or been mean. I said I knew that, but I can feel his tension in every text message. I can feel it, the moment he walks in the door. All I want to do is make it better. If I can’t do that, at least, not make it worse! The last time that I did this, was the worst spanking I’d received. I was afraid of that, but I was devastated to lose the progress I’d made. I was bawling because I felt like a failure, and it hurt me, probably as much as Adam! I know that my, very obvious, recognition of how serious this was to him, softened Adam’s own frustration with the situation. He didn’t insult me or raise his voice. He didn’t even look angry. His eyes were kind. He cupped my face in his hands, wiped my tears, and put his face close to mine. He told me he is still very proud of how hard I’ve worked to do the things he’s asked. He promised me that, this setback doesn’t erase all of the good I’ve done. He said, “I love you so much, baby. I’m never going to expect you to be perfect.” Then, he told me he forgot to wear his seatbelt, the other day, but he hadn’t told me about it. Finally, he kissed me, and said that I was still getting a spanking. I must’ve looked pitiful, because he gave me a grin and told me it would be cruel if he didn’t punish me. He wasn’t mad at me, but he couldn’t let it go without a spanking, because that would be inconsistent. I tend to have many more failures when he isn’t consistent. He knows this. I understood. I wasn’t excited, but I completely understand what he was saying. I expected it to be much worse, if I’m honest. I was afraid he would be angrier than I’ve ever seen. I was so ashamed to add more shit to his, already shitty, week. I hadn’t even felt any guilt, before last night, because I truly feel like I’m protecting him, when I skate around the truth about something that doesn’t hurt anyone. I feel like I’m helping, in the moment. It’s hard to explain, but Adam understands me well. He knows what I mean.

When we got out of the shower, he ushered me toward our bed. I had my towel wrapped around me. I asked, “Can’t I, at least, put my shirt on?!” I almost always wear one of Adam’s t-shirts to bed. He shook his head, picked me up in his arms, and carried me to our bed. I didn’t want to fight him. I knew I had done wrong. It’s not easy to hold still, when you’re so fearful, though. I’d reached my hand around to cover my bottom. Adam reminded me, “Don’t try to block. It’ll just earn you more of these.” I moved my hand. He was smiling. He does that when he’s sympathetic of my situation. He’s very patient, but won’t let me escape punishment. He lifted my towel, and swatted my butt several times, with his hand. It was not pleasant, but not nearly as painful or serious as the last time. Then, he sat down beside me. He told me he could see how truly sorry I was. He said that, he could see how hard I’m trying, and he felt guilty that I didn’t feel comfortable coming to him about something so stupid, this week. He told me he was going to work on that. He never wants me to hold back from telling him the complete truth, because I’m afraid he will be mean or cruel. He assured me, he will never be any harder on me, if I screw up when he’s had a bad day.

I wanted my husband, when we went to bed. I started to run my hands through his chest hair and slowly down, further south on his body. He asked me, “Are you sure you’re ready?” My lady parts were feeling pretty good. I wanted to try. We both got laid last night, and we both enjoyed it!

Dominated

It’s such a cruel irony how often the very thing I need is what I’ve been pushing away in a naive attempt to protect myself from any additional distress. On some level, I think Adam and I knew what we both needed, both deeply craved but outwardly denied ourselves and each other. There was never any malicious intent. In fact, we were each doing what most anyone would logically conclude was the “right thing”. We had been through hell. We’d stuck by one another, never wavering in our commitment to our marriage and family, but our relationship wasn’t the problem, so it wasn’t getting any attention. We were exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I was hurting, Adam couldn’t fix it, and he felt guilty, inadequate even. I knew Adam was struggling so I tried not to lean on him or put any additional pressure on him. We were both trying to protect each other but began to slowly wither away as more and more time passed without giving each other the things we couldn’t give ourselves. We would fall into bed and think only of sleep. Adam still kissed my forehead before he went to work each morning. We never hung up the phone before saying I love you. We went through all the motions, continuing in our repetitive and boring daily lives until finally, one night, Adam took me. We climbed into bed like all the nights before, only this time he immediately rolled over on top of me. He leaned down and kissed me long and hard. He undressed me and then slowly, deliberately parted my legs with his. [SIDE NOTE: that is one of the sexiest things my man can do to me! There’s something about the way he uses his legs to spread mine without my even really noticing until he’s already done it…purrr]

That night Adam had his way with me. He wasn’t exactly gentle, but he made love to me. It was so much more than sex. He showed me he wanted me, reminded me that I’m his, took back his place as leader and a man, my man. He held me down, pulled my hair, and took his time making sure to give every inch of my body his full attention.

The thing is, I didn’t realize the significance of that night right away. I struggled so much to push away all of the negativity bouncing around in my mind. I didn’t even have an orgasm. Over the next couple of days, though, I kept finding myself daydreaming about Adam. I was noticing him and his body. I wanted to feel his touch again. I felt so much “lighter” as I began to trust and allow Adam to help me take on the chaos and stress. The Bible says not to deny each other our bodies (sex) in marriage. I truly believe there’s a good reason that was put in there and I think I understand it better now. Each night since, we’ve had sex. Everyday, I’m feeling better and we’re growing closer again. Sex in the midst of life’s tragedies can seem inappropriate. We were fooled into believing that during a time when we needed each other most. Adam would’ve let me get away with murder a week ago. Looking back, I was acting out in small ways to test him. I was hoping to push the right button just hard enough that he’d discipline me. I needed him to reaffirm his role and mine. HE was needing to reaffirm his role and mine. Isn’t that ironic?

“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.

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.

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?