Just to note, I am not nearly the writer that Missy is, but I will contribute periodically to this blog. We decided to do this blog because we thought it would be a fun way to document our adventures and also to nourish our exhibitionist tendencies.
Missy gave an amazing amount of detail into her history and to what has led her to this point in her life and also to me. I will try to do the same. I am definitely more of a bullet point kind of guy.
I have been married for about 15 years. My wife and I have a beautiful family and by all outward appearances and maybe in my wife's mind, a "perfect marriage".
I had been sexually active before marriage but my wife was a virgin. I had been with many women and had an amazing amount of sexual experiences before I was even 20. My wife had kissed a few guys, that was the extent of her previous sexual experience. While I was having fun with all sorts of diversions through high school and college, she was buckling down and applying herself to her studies. How did two seemingly opposites attract? It started with my spiritual awakening in my late teens that blossomed into a full blown religious fervor. Which included much involvement at my church in activities, meetings and even missionary work. I stopped partying and having sex and dedicated myself to God and clean living. That is how Michelle entered the picture. We attended church together.
We dated for a short while, 3 months, became engaged and were married 3 months later. I was happy and so was she. Prior to getting married I told her of my exploits as a younger man and made sure that she did not have a problem with it. I also indicated that our sex life would not be boring or plain vanilla because that is not how I roll. She was fine with that and demonstrated an openness to try new things once we became sexually active. So we were married. Our honeymoon was great we had great sex, considering the circumstances. We had to take it slow at first but she was a quick study. She had certain things that she was not into but made up for it in other areas. She did not like oral sex, she was okay receiving (doesn't love it) but not into giving. Aside from that actual sex was pretty damned good. We had sex 5 or 6 times a week for the first couple years we were married and that was great. We did some light role playing, a little ass play, light bondage (scarves) and good old fashioned fucking.
After our first child, interest in all things sexual began to drop pretty dramatically, it was always one excuse or the other. We still were having sex 2 or 3 times a week. As time has gone by and our family has grown our sex life has become almost non-existent. We have gone over a month without any sexual contact, even with me trying every way under the sun to woo my wife. Massages, candles, flowers, clean house, trips, dates, spa trips...etc. I have tried everything. She is apologetic but has no desire to have sex anymore. With enough guilt trips and whining she will sometimes relent and have sex with me. When we do, it is good, she always climaxes, and afterwards often says "we should do that more often". But we don't.
It is quite a blow to one's self esteem to be continually rejected. I started to look at myself and wonder, what is wrong with me? Is there something wrong and I don't see it? I am in shape, well groomed, I dress nicely, provide well for my family....what is it? She will say it is not me it is her. But it doesn't feel that way.
Besides our sex life, Michelle and I are a great partnership. Our children are well behaved, intelligent and genuinely happy. As a product of divorce and a seriously screwed up family, I am providing my children with the happy home and family I only wished to have as a youngster. We have a nice home with good friends and an active life. We attend church regularly and are involved there as well. But deep in the recesses of my mind there is a sexual being just wanting to be released. Wanting to be wanted and desired and feel physical passion again.
Prior to my current relationship with Missy I have had one other extra-marital affair. It was with an old HS girlfriend who came back into town a couple years ago. She found me through Classmates.com and started e-mailing me. We corresponded over months and began an online affair. She is married as well. She came into town a couple summers ago on vacation and we decided to meet up. We met at a hotel and had an amazing day of sex. It felt so good to just get lost in the physical acts. We exhausted ourselves that day. We knew it was a one time thing.
I am very cautious, so the idea of having an affair with somebody in my immediate circle of friends or acquaintances is not an option. I have had a few opportunities over the years with co-workers and clients that I have avoided because of my concern for discretion.
One afternoon on a particularly slow day at work I was online and decided to look at Craigslist. I went to the personals section. I have always found them entertaining but never saw an ad compelling enough to respond to. This day I looked in the casual encounters section and saw an ad that intrigued me. It was Missy's. It was just what I had been looking for. Someone to fill the void that has been in my life for such a long time and in turn I could help fill her's. So I responded and............................
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Showing posts with label HISTORY. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HISTORY. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
AND SO IT CONTINUES...
From that point in 2006 until the fall of 2008, I worked my ass off.
In every sense of the word. In December 2006 my husband and I took our dream of being business owners to the next level. We weren't sure what we would do, what it would look like, just that we wanted it. It was a long grueling process, one that he was ready to just quit on several times. That is his nature. I wouldn't. I refused. Every small victory was huge to me...every license, every bank meeting, every franchise that we researched, all of it. He was excited too, yet, pessimistic. The process brought us closer on many levels, but sexually we drifted further apart.
He began having impotency issues. At first I was confused. I thought it was me. I discovered, several times, porn on his computer. And not that I cared that he was looking at porn, but I cared that he was being secretive (even lying about it), and that for someone that had ZERO desire to have sex with me, it made no sense. One night I found that he had been looking at TONS of young, "barely legal" skinny blonds. I LOST IT. Stormed out of the house and left. Drove 40 minutes to a friend's house, where I no longer protected him. I shared with her and another girlfriend (both from church) an abbreviated version of our issues.
I tried hard to be patient. I love giving blow jobs. I would patiently take him in my mouth, have him aroused, only for him to lose it moments after entering me. I was (and still am to a point) convinced that it was me.
I tried new lingerie, started wearing random hot numbers to bed. Bought different lubes, sex toys, and would try to build up sex throughout the day with text messages and whispers in his ear. Once I had the kids go to grandmas, and surprised him...he came home to find me scantily clad, laying on the couch, watching porn. It should be noted that I am not, nor have I ever been, a frumpy mom. Hair, makeup, and toe nail polish are mandatory with me. Matching bras and panties are a must. No matter what weight I have been, looking put together has been important.
Nothing really helped. It seemed that the ONLY time that he could maintain an erection, and last a little longer than a few minutes, was if he was entering me from behind.
Now don't get me wrong, I love all positions. There is nothing like a good ass slapping while being fucked from behind. Yet, I took it personal. Was he pretending it wasn't me? Not wanting to look at me?
Most times, I would just roll over and quietly cry. Sometimes, I would get angry, and we would fight. I begged him to go to the doctor, and began researching medical causes. Nothing made sense...I read somewhere that if a guy wakes up with erections, that impotency is not the issue. That it is psychological. He always woke up hard.
He had never made me feel insecure about myself until this point. I always felt that some of his compliments were fake, yet he tried. He was, and is, overly affectionate in front of my family, and that bothers me. He fronts like an ultra horny man, yet isn't. Kissing had become nonexistent because of his constant use of chewing tobacco. I never knew when he had some in his mouth, and I refused to kiss him.
And I began taking a hard look at myself, and my body.
In every sense of the word. In December 2006 my husband and I took our dream of being business owners to the next level. We weren't sure what we would do, what it would look like, just that we wanted it. It was a long grueling process, one that he was ready to just quit on several times. That is his nature. I wouldn't. I refused. Every small victory was huge to me...every license, every bank meeting, every franchise that we researched, all of it. He was excited too, yet, pessimistic. The process brought us closer on many levels, but sexually we drifted further apart.
He began having impotency issues. At first I was confused. I thought it was me. I discovered, several times, porn on his computer. And not that I cared that he was looking at porn, but I cared that he was being secretive (even lying about it), and that for someone that had ZERO desire to have sex with me, it made no sense. One night I found that he had been looking at TONS of young, "barely legal" skinny blonds. I LOST IT. Stormed out of the house and left. Drove 40 minutes to a friend's house, where I no longer protected him. I shared with her and another girlfriend (both from church) an abbreviated version of our issues.
I tried hard to be patient. I love giving blow jobs. I would patiently take him in my mouth, have him aroused, only for him to lose it moments after entering me. I was (and still am to a point) convinced that it was me.
I tried new lingerie, started wearing random hot numbers to bed. Bought different lubes, sex toys, and would try to build up sex throughout the day with text messages and whispers in his ear. Once I had the kids go to grandmas, and surprised him...he came home to find me scantily clad, laying on the couch, watching porn. It should be noted that I am not, nor have I ever been, a frumpy mom. Hair, makeup, and toe nail polish are mandatory with me. Matching bras and panties are a must. No matter what weight I have been, looking put together has been important.
Nothing really helped. It seemed that the ONLY time that he could maintain an erection, and last a little longer than a few minutes, was if he was entering me from behind.
Now don't get me wrong, I love all positions. There is nothing like a good ass slapping while being fucked from behind. Yet, I took it personal. Was he pretending it wasn't me? Not wanting to look at me?
Most times, I would just roll over and quietly cry. Sometimes, I would get angry, and we would fight. I begged him to go to the doctor, and began researching medical causes. Nothing made sense...I read somewhere that if a guy wakes up with erections, that impotency is not the issue. That it is psychological. He always woke up hard.
He had never made me feel insecure about myself until this point. I always felt that some of his compliments were fake, yet he tried. He was, and is, overly affectionate in front of my family, and that bothers me. He fronts like an ultra horny man, yet isn't. Kissing had become nonexistent because of his constant use of chewing tobacco. I never knew when he had some in his mouth, and I refused to kiss him.
And I began taking a hard look at myself, and my body.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
MARRIED...NOW WHAT?
This blog is my story...my truth...the real truth that is known by one person, and one person alone.
His name is Steve.
In order to get to where I am today, and to get to Steve, it is imperative to lay out some history.
I am 30, married, and have two children. I have been married over 11 years, and was 3 months pregnant with my oldest on my wedding day.
My children are my biggest accomplishment, they bring me joy that words can not describe.
However, I am not leading the life I had fantasized about as a little girl. In my daydreams, I was never sitting on a bathroom floor sobbing over a pregnancy test at the age of 18, almost 19. I was never planning a wedding that was the "right thing to do" because I was pregnant. I was never doing a lot of things that I have done.
Yes, I had been engaged. My husband proposed to me on my 18th birthday, and it was almost a year later that I became pregnant. It wasn't like we hadn't been together for awhile, it wasn't like there wasn't a level of commitment. After mustering up the courage to tell my mother that I was pregnant, she immediately, without really asking how I felt, planned a wedding. At one point I tried objecting, in a passive, last ditch effort to halt the preparations. I was met with a hard glance, and told "You have been engaged. So what if this is sooner than you would like? You shouldn't have gotten pregnant then."
End of discussion.
One could argue that I was an adult, that I could have NOT DONE IT. Yet, I believed that my younger than young acting fiance and I could do this. That he would mature. Grow up. That I would be fine. That a baby is a blessing, and would be the glue that held us together. And for some reason, disappointing my mother didn't seem to be an option. I still feel that way today.
I will NEVER forget the day that my mother's husband, a PASTOR, looked at me and said "I bet this marriage doesn't last more than 5 years...you are both so young." There is nothing like a challenge to make me feisty, and I I didn't respond to his comment, yet thought to myself "WATCH ME." I have stubbornly clung to the satisfaction that I proved him wrong, yet, I didn't. I really didn't. On the outside, yes, I passed that 5 year mark, and then passed it again. On the inside though...that is a different story.
The wedding planning is a blur, I really didn't do much. I answered questions, approved a few things, and meanwhile grasped the fact that this was my life...all while throwing up constantly with morning sickness. The word MORNING is such a lie when it comes to morning sickness.
Wedding dress shopping was the WORST. The absolute worst. My paternal grandma, my mom, and sister and I all trekked around looking at dresses. My mom was being cheap about the whole matter, I didn't have anything to contribute. I had been living on my own for almost a year, had been working full time, but it wasn't like I had much left over after rent and a car payment. My grandma and I had rebuilt our relationship only two years prior after 8 years of her not wanting anything to do with my sisters and myself because our mother who had left her son. It didn't matter that he beat her, didn't matter that he is CRAZY, she was mad at our mother and that was that.
Grandma and I today have a great relationship, but back then we were still essentially getting to know each other. And when I overheard her tell my mom that "A GIRL IN MY CONDITION SHOULD NOT WEAR WHITE ON HER WEDDING DAY", I easily could have smothered her in taffeta, lace, and silk that was plentiful at the bridal store.
The whole thing was so fucking unfair. I looked around this large bridal store at these girls, and their mothers who were TICKLED to be there. Taking pictures, scrutinizing every detail of the dresses. THOSE MOMS weren't asking for the clearance section, or saying loudly "who needs it altered, I can just cut off the bottom layer and hem it myself." THOSE MOMS were relaxed, not rushed, excited. THOSE MOMS were creating a moment, a special memory.
I couldn't stand it. So when I found a dress that was something I could live with, it was in the price range that mom had in mind, and it fit then and would fit in a month if I had started showing a little, I settled. I have NEVER wanted to get out of a store so fast in my life.
The day of my wedding was nothing too special. I remember being annoyed with how often I had to pee, because doing it in a wedding dress REQUIRES HELP. I just went through the motions. My flowers were the wrong color, I spoke up, and was hushed because it was too late to do anything about it.
The music was wonderful, there were more people there than I could have imagined. People that didn't care for members of my family were there because of ME. That felt good. There were parts of the service that to this day raise my blood pressure, and parts that still warm my heart. It is what it is, and it wasn't what I had ever imagined.
The reception was beyond lame, and when it was time to go I was so relieved. We headed out to a hotel room that my husband's parents had paid for, and there we were. That was it. Obligatory just married sex occurred, nothing mind blowing though. We headed out the next day to the coast, where we spent a week at a house in the dead of winter, with not a whole heck of a lot to do. We enjoyed each other's company, talked about our future. Imagined our baby. We did little day trips around where we were staying, played board games, cooked, rested, and just relaxed.
It felt okay then. I could see this being okay. So what that my wedding wasn't what I had wanted. It is just a ceremony, right? Just a formality. It had nothing to do with what our marriage would be, nothing to do with US.
The next two years were a blur. Job changes, moving into a rental house, and then buying our first home when I was 20. Being parents to a beautiful baby boy. My husband is a hard worker, and that was great. I worried about child care, my part time job, bills, housework, basically everything, yet he worked hard for our little family.
Things gradually shifted though. He was ridiculously irresponsible, and that was a huge strain on our marriage. Bank cards were left in cash machines (we are talking about 5 times, not 1), calling cards in pay phones, I could go on and on. It was always SOMETHING. Our sex life sucked. When we were dating it was good, it was even good while I was pregnant...until I was put on bed rest. Now, I am not saying it was MIND BLOWING, but acceptable. And to me at the time, it was great. I knew nothing better.
After our son was born, I worked hard to get to my pre-pregnancy weight, and did so rather fast. Mind you I wasn't thin, I have definitely been curvy since high school, but I was at a good point after the baby.
He didn't care. It didn't matter. I introduced some things back into our bedroom that we had dabbled with in high school...a bit of porn, a few toys. It never seemed to be enough. I worked hard outside of the bedroom thinking that would help. I would make his lunches, make sure that he came home to a sparkly clean house, with a happy adorable baby, and a dolled up wife. Never without makeup, never in sweats. He was never unappreciative, but if felt like living with a friend. The spark was not there.
I remember clearly an afternoon in when we were nearing our 2nd wedding anniversary. I had the baby napping, and put on something crazy sexy. Not lingerie, but not something you would wear in public either. He walked into our room, looked at me, and announced that he wanted to go to work early. And left.
I sat there and cried, in my scandalous outfit. I knew at that very moment that things were not okay. That he was a wonderful dad, a good provider, a good friend, but we were clearly on different pages when it came to sex.
It came as no surprise that a few months later I found myself in a situation I had NEVER, EVER thought I would be in.
An affair.
To be continued...
His name is Steve.
In order to get to where I am today, and to get to Steve, it is imperative to lay out some history.
I am 30, married, and have two children. I have been married over 11 years, and was 3 months pregnant with my oldest on my wedding day.
My children are my biggest accomplishment, they bring me joy that words can not describe.
However, I am not leading the life I had fantasized about as a little girl. In my daydreams, I was never sitting on a bathroom floor sobbing over a pregnancy test at the age of 18, almost 19. I was never planning a wedding that was the "right thing to do" because I was pregnant. I was never doing a lot of things that I have done.
Yes, I had been engaged. My husband proposed to me on my 18th birthday, and it was almost a year later that I became pregnant. It wasn't like we hadn't been together for awhile, it wasn't like there wasn't a level of commitment. After mustering up the courage to tell my mother that I was pregnant, she immediately, without really asking how I felt, planned a wedding. At one point I tried objecting, in a passive, last ditch effort to halt the preparations. I was met with a hard glance, and told "You have been engaged. So what if this is sooner than you would like? You shouldn't have gotten pregnant then."
End of discussion.
One could argue that I was an adult, that I could have NOT DONE IT. Yet, I believed that my younger than young acting fiance and I could do this. That he would mature. Grow up. That I would be fine. That a baby is a blessing, and would be the glue that held us together. And for some reason, disappointing my mother didn't seem to be an option. I still feel that way today.
I will NEVER forget the day that my mother's husband, a PASTOR, looked at me and said "I bet this marriage doesn't last more than 5 years...you are both so young." There is nothing like a challenge to make me feisty, and I I didn't respond to his comment, yet thought to myself "WATCH ME." I have stubbornly clung to the satisfaction that I proved him wrong, yet, I didn't. I really didn't. On the outside, yes, I passed that 5 year mark, and then passed it again. On the inside though...that is a different story.
The wedding planning is a blur, I really didn't do much. I answered questions, approved a few things, and meanwhile grasped the fact that this was my life...all while throwing up constantly with morning sickness. The word MORNING is such a lie when it comes to morning sickness.
Wedding dress shopping was the WORST. The absolute worst. My paternal grandma, my mom, and sister and I all trekked around looking at dresses. My mom was being cheap about the whole matter, I didn't have anything to contribute. I had been living on my own for almost a year, had been working full time, but it wasn't like I had much left over after rent and a car payment. My grandma and I had rebuilt our relationship only two years prior after 8 years of her not wanting anything to do with my sisters and myself because our mother who had left her son. It didn't matter that he beat her, didn't matter that he is CRAZY, she was mad at our mother and that was that.
Grandma and I today have a great relationship, but back then we were still essentially getting to know each other. And when I overheard her tell my mom that "A GIRL IN MY CONDITION SHOULD NOT WEAR WHITE ON HER WEDDING DAY", I easily could have smothered her in taffeta, lace, and silk that was plentiful at the bridal store.
The whole thing was so fucking unfair. I looked around this large bridal store at these girls, and their mothers who were TICKLED to be there. Taking pictures, scrutinizing every detail of the dresses. THOSE MOMS weren't asking for the clearance section, or saying loudly "who needs it altered, I can just cut off the bottom layer and hem it myself." THOSE MOMS were relaxed, not rushed, excited. THOSE MOMS were creating a moment, a special memory.
I couldn't stand it. So when I found a dress that was something I could live with, it was in the price range that mom had in mind, and it fit then and would fit in a month if I had started showing a little, I settled. I have NEVER wanted to get out of a store so fast in my life.
The day of my wedding was nothing too special. I remember being annoyed with how often I had to pee, because doing it in a wedding dress REQUIRES HELP. I just went through the motions. My flowers were the wrong color, I spoke up, and was hushed because it was too late to do anything about it.
The music was wonderful, there were more people there than I could have imagined. People that didn't care for members of my family were there because of ME. That felt good. There were parts of the service that to this day raise my blood pressure, and parts that still warm my heart. It is what it is, and it wasn't what I had ever imagined.
The reception was beyond lame, and when it was time to go I was so relieved. We headed out to a hotel room that my husband's parents had paid for, and there we were. That was it. Obligatory just married sex occurred, nothing mind blowing though. We headed out the next day to the coast, where we spent a week at a house in the dead of winter, with not a whole heck of a lot to do. We enjoyed each other's company, talked about our future. Imagined our baby. We did little day trips around where we were staying, played board games, cooked, rested, and just relaxed.
It felt okay then. I could see this being okay. So what that my wedding wasn't what I had wanted. It is just a ceremony, right? Just a formality. It had nothing to do with what our marriage would be, nothing to do with US.
The next two years were a blur. Job changes, moving into a rental house, and then buying our first home when I was 20. Being parents to a beautiful baby boy. My husband is a hard worker, and that was great. I worried about child care, my part time job, bills, housework, basically everything, yet he worked hard for our little family.
Things gradually shifted though. He was ridiculously irresponsible, and that was a huge strain on our marriage. Bank cards were left in cash machines (we are talking about 5 times, not 1), calling cards in pay phones, I could go on and on. It was always SOMETHING. Our sex life sucked. When we were dating it was good, it was even good while I was pregnant...until I was put on bed rest. Now, I am not saying it was MIND BLOWING, but acceptable. And to me at the time, it was great. I knew nothing better.
After our son was born, I worked hard to get to my pre-pregnancy weight, and did so rather fast. Mind you I wasn't thin, I have definitely been curvy since high school, but I was at a good point after the baby.
He didn't care. It didn't matter. I introduced some things back into our bedroom that we had dabbled with in high school...a bit of porn, a few toys. It never seemed to be enough. I worked hard outside of the bedroom thinking that would help. I would make his lunches, make sure that he came home to a sparkly clean house, with a happy adorable baby, and a dolled up wife. Never without makeup, never in sweats. He was never unappreciative, but if felt like living with a friend. The spark was not there.
I remember clearly an afternoon in when we were nearing our 2nd wedding anniversary. I had the baby napping, and put on something crazy sexy. Not lingerie, but not something you would wear in public either. He walked into our room, looked at me, and announced that he wanted to go to work early. And left.
I sat there and cried, in my scandalous outfit. I knew at that very moment that things were not okay. That he was a wonderful dad, a good provider, a good friend, but we were clearly on different pages when it came to sex.
It came as no surprise that a few months later I found myself in a situation I had NEVER, EVER thought I would be in.
An affair.
To be continued...
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