Sturm Und Drang

Steff said, "It's amazing how much life can go off the rails when you spend a couple years just hanging on for all its worth, while everything else starts going off-kilter a little as a result of the lack of focus on basic maintenance."

The other day, I said, "I've run out of energy for anything beyond the most basic survival efforts." And my friend replied, "I think sex is a vital part of one's existence. "

* * *

I got to spend the last two weekends in a row with Mr. S. It was great, for what it was. But what was it? He has gone out of his way several times since the beginning of this sexual thing to point out that I am not his girlfriend. That this is not emotional for him. That I have no hold on him.

Each night, after fucking our brains out, he'd pull me close and wrap his big, strong arms around me. He held me until I slept . . . and he was still holding me when I awoke in the morning.

I am not satisfied to sleep in the arms of a man who loves another woman.

When, Lord, will I be the woman who is loved? I am impatient.

A married friend, on marriage: "The only thing separating us is a random coincidence."

Is that what relationships are? Winning the emotional lottery?

Rough Sex

After an altogether too long hiatus, Mr. S has returned. We still have not discussed his December abandonment, and at this point I am reluctant to bring it up at all... I am falling into the stereotypically female "forgive but not forget" position. While it doesn't make me happy, fighting with him about it would make me less happy. I think.

Besides, the sex is worth it. I got to see him Thursday night after an OMG-long-and-miserable day at work. Despite my being an unshowered and unshaven stresspot, he fucked my brains out in the most amazing way.

I've had passionate sex. And assertive sex. But this was Rough Sex in the most delighfully satisfying way. A clothes ripped off, cock shoved in mouth, fistful of hair kind of way. I am still sore from the things he did to my tender bits. *swoon*

The delicious thing about Mr. S's brand of rough sex is that it isn't about degradation. It's not a punishment and it's not about status. It's a full-on expression of masculine desire, aided and abetted by his size and strength. I am not a Rag Doll woman, but he pushed me around with no no visible effort. It was absolutely intoxicating.

Sometimes, it's like he reads my mind.

Ode To The Single Woman

The single woman is an unappreciated creature.

The single woman does everything you do.

She also does everything your spouse does for you.

She does everything your friends do for you.