The first thing today to make me smile: love face slapping sex stories. That’s what someone looked for and ended up here. I hope you’re happy about the things you found!
There’s been so much turmoil over the last couple of months. Wonderboy put it like this in the car: We live in the middle of nowhere, we have no child, I’m depressed, you’re depressed and it’s the fucking worse weather! He said this trying to make out the motorway in sleet and rain in pitch black and with a broken thingy (I honestly don’t know the word) so we couldn’t wash the window without stopping and throwing some water on it. Makes for a hell of a homecoming, I’m telling you, and with a medicated man might I add. Not easy.
SSRI meds work differently for different people. So far my Wonderboy has been irritated – He actually yelled at me for speeding, which made me really upset. He never yells. – tired, cranky, more anxious and somewhat lost. He didn’t know, if he was still hungry or not when we ate dinner. The thing that worries me – and I think him too – most is that serotonin meds tend to fuck up the libido. He told his doctor that we’re trying for a baby and the doctor prescribed them anyway. We talked about it, but there’s nothing we can do but wait and see what happens.
I’m already tired of this post. It’s been a hard day and even though I want to share it, I’m really not in the mood to live through it again.
Why can’t I write about something nice? Well… Actually, I can.
Yesterday we both spent with our mothers and late at nigh when we got home I was tipsy and he was feeling odd from the meds. We started cuddling after watching something stupid but entertaining and like so often nowadays his kisses were sort of quick and evasive, if kisses can be like that. I lost my temper after a while. How am I supposed to get into it, if he’s just pecking me quickies, but won’t let me go either? Who wants to just keep on pecking for half an hour? I asked a bit irritated, Are you in a hurry? He laughed a bit, but I think after a while he got it. I was ready to just leave the thing alone and go do something else, but he started kissing me again. His kisses changed, when he started just scooping with his tongue down my throat like he was forcing my tongue aside. It’s such a turn on even if it would be bad kissing without the essence of d/s. But there is the d/s.
Oh my. We just got really carried away just by those kisses. He fucked me senseless without any other foreplay for either of us, called me his whore and then – then! – told me how he likes to hurt me and hurt me a bit, just a little bit. But it wasn’t the hurting, it was the fact that he told me he wants to hurt me. I just go crazy, when he talks to me, when he tells me what he likes and what’s my place. I came three or four times and we cuddled and kissed passionately even after sex. I was still quivering and breathing raggedly. Where had that sex drive been? Where had sex like that been?
I dunno. But I think him starting his medication and getting on the track for therapy has really helped, even though he’s hard to handle with the first side effects. And I was tipsy – so not at all worried about the neighbours hearing or being really hurt or not getting enough air, when he suffocated me. I just took it all in.
Oooh. I wish I was still there. But that was yesterday. Today we had to talk about our relationship, hardships and just plain cope with the routines. He went to bed at 7.30 pm tired but probably a little less anxious. It helps to let the bad thoughts out. It’s better to talk about them, even angrily, than to just harbour them. They won’t go away on their own. I’m happy he’s starting therapy. But I expect not to be yelled at ever again, and I told him as much. A half an hour of evasive manouvers later – you were as bad when you started, you were speeding, I was just reacting – he apologised finally. If you hurt me, I get hurt, I said to him. No excuse will change that. That, my friends, is what I learned in therapy.
Until next time.