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Just A Word

It happened when I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t paying attention. Suddenly I realized I used words that I never had before. And I meant them. I said them again, to test if they would keep their meaning.

You’re the love of my life, I said to Wonderboy. Something had changed, I think, irrevocably. Our relationship feels different to me. It feels solid. I have no doubts. I will be with him. He’s the one for me. 

Can you guess how he replied? 

Oh come ooon! he said, bashfully. Such huge words that he hid his face.

I wonder what he thinks? I wonder if he wonders how it would be with someone else. Can he believe that this is it, I’m the one? I don’t know. But I don’t have to know that. I only need to know what I feel. And I know now! Funny how this kind of a thing can surprise you after being together over 5 years. The love of my life. It started as so small, so… normal. Everything was so difficult for the longest time, because of our pasts, because of the draw to play with power and sex. It’s not so hard anymore.

Would you like to take charge of what I eat again? I asked when he commented on what I ate the other day.

Yes, he answered solemnly. 

And now he does again, for most of the time. He says what he expects of me but I’m in charge of deciding on the smaller scale what will be good for me.

We’ve been to the gym twice this week, together. I can’t even begin to describe how happy that makes me. Silly me. Silly love. 

When we were walking back home the other day I commented on my sweaty clothes  – sneakers and tights – making me uncomfortable and he said: I love you all sporty like that. You’re a dream come trough. 

Imagine all the hard labour of putting on makeup and grooming myself when all the while he actually likes me all sweaty and red faced after a workout. And I do understand him now. I like him like that too. I like to know that he’s doing his best to stay healthy and beautiful and strong, and I love that he’s doing it with me. It makes me feel connected to him that we share meaningful goals like that – and the hobby itself. I want to be strong and beautiful and healthy for him when we’re 60, too. That’s what this is. This is no short span thing. This is true love. 

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Sex stories, Wonderboy

Woohoo!

For the people who play The Sims the title is enough info, but for mere mortals… We just had sex! Real, hot, quick, pounding sex! I got to feel Wonderboy inside me for the first time in a month. Even though it hurt a bit, I’m guessing because of the hormonal changes inside me, it felt wonderful. And we came at the same time. Happy sigh.

I also had a fight with my mom that started with tears at 3 am and ended in laughter at 3 pm. I think that’s pretty good. And the world seems better now.

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Hurting, Self-Questioning, Undecided

Past Self-Denial

So, last night I was dumping my fantasies on Thumper’s Blog. It occured to me that it might be somewhat healing to talk about these things that I’m going through. Or write. If there was someone like me out there.

I don’t have much of a voice anymore. I used to be loud and know excactly what I want. Now I’m just undecided and ever questioning, myself and others. I’m almost thirty but feel like a girl, Alice in Wonderland, looking for myself in the looking glass. Finding nothing solid anymore. I get carded all the time, dress like a fiftie’s house wife and feel like I’m passing as a woman even if I’m supposed to be one.

I was sexually assaulted a few years back. After the fact I found my True Love, Wonderboy, who has had the pleasure of being my therapist, lover and teacher in all the aspects of my life. But especially in bed. That’s what I’m here to talk about. My craving for pain.

I want to be bound. I’m too Dangerous to be let out. I want him to show me I have a place.

I don’t know what to call it. I hate the most used terms. I can’t relate to BDSM – most of it is just too far out! I don’t want to be submissive. I’m assertive, even pushy. I like to make the decisions and plans. I am the one always ready for action, trying not to press too hard for sex every night. I am in no way a masochist. I’m level-headed, I indulge myself in culinary excitement as well as sensual.

I am just a Girl. That will do for now. A Rogue Bambi lost in the wilderness. So hiya!

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