Monday, December 30, 2013

I Had A Point...

I love my husband.

I really, really just fucking adore him.

And, yeah, I love sex, too. And so does he. From day one, we agreed that monogamy wasn't our thing.

We both joined SL for sex. Neither of us ever meant to have relationships, yet here we are. In love and married.

I just want to be with him. At the end of the day, when all is said and done... it's just him. He's THE one.

But when he's not here? God, I suck at resisting temptation. And it's really nice to be desired... to have other men want me.

Some of them turn me on... some of them, quite incredibly.

Sometimes I'm just bored with nothing better to do. And I know that when he's online and I'm not, it's the same for him.

But knowing he's inworld fucking another woman when I'm not there...?

(an hour passes...)

Oh... you know what? Fuck whatever I was about to say... I had a whole long thing in my head about swinging and being in an open relationship and jealousy and stuff...

But fuck all that.

Because my husband just logged on and fucked me like I've never been fucked before.
And now I'm just sitting here, quite literally stewing in my own juices, with a goofy fucking smile on my face.
He can go out and fuck whoever he likes. Just as long as he keeps coming home to me and giving me the best he has... and he always does. There's just something there... something between us that no one can touch. We're just two parts of a whole... It might be good with other people, but when it's the two of us?
Holy shit.

I'm drained. Need food. Need water. Need vitamins. And a nap.

I'm sure I'll get back to my original point some other time... but for now. Fuck.

Swoons.



Saturday, December 28, 2013

So That Happened...

I fucked up tonight.
Already burned the rug... now scrubbing the floors beneath.
Did a stupid, stupid thing.

Ark and I had one rule... one fucking rule... and guess who broke it?

Yeah, that'd be my dumb ass.

It wasn't planned, and it wasn't intentional. And I hurt the person I care most about. The man I love with all my heart.
Our house is off limits. It's ours. We don't bring other people there to fuck... Not without both of us being there.

I was showing the house off today... the new house. I love it and I love what I've done with it... How I modified it and decorated it. So I wanted people to see it.

So I invited someone over. A female. And her partner.

Long story short, I ended up fucking him while she watched. The gory details aren't important. It's the end result that matters.

My amazing husband signed in right at the end with possibly the worst, most awkward timing in the history of mankind.
It wasn't that I was going to keep it a secret from him... I have no secrets from him. I was already composing the email in my head to tell him about it. I won't lie to him and I won't hide things from him. What we have is just too damn important to me. Too special. If there's something that I feel I shouldn't tell him about, then I fucking shouldn't be doing it. And I won't.

I just honestly, stupidly, didn't realize how it would hurt him to find me fucking some other guy in our house.

For two reasons... one, because I can be an oblivious twat sometimes.

Secondly... I'm just not used to being loved the way Ark loves me. It's hard for me to accept it. The last guy... Well, first off, we didn't live together. He wouldn't. But if he had landed in the middle of me fucking another guy? He would have been thrilled and used it as another way to remind me what a filthy whore I am.

That's my issue. Not my husband's. He has done nothing but loved me fiercely, and beautifully. I know he doesn't think I'm a whore. He respects my sexuality, yes. He understands it and never, ever tries to hold me back. Nor does he push me to be something I really don't want to be... which is an indiscriminate whore.

I stumbled tonight and took a step backwards. I found myself in a situation where I was fucking someone to please someone else. The wife wanted it... she wanted to watch me fuck her husband and I went along with it.

Shame the fuck on me. Seriously. I know better.

I'm not going to beat myself up about this forever... but I will remember the lesson I learned.

And this incredible man? My husband? He forgave me. Because that's the man he is. He's angry, yes. Rightfully so. But he's already forgiven me. He sat and listened and let me open up and tell him everything. And he told me things that I will hold in my heart forever. Things he would do for me... things no other man would do. Because he loves me. He really loves me. I'm not sure I really, truly, understood that until tonight. And that is so humbling for me. Do I deserve it? A part of me thinks I don't... but, damn it, I do. We all do. And he certainly deserves all the love I have to give to him. My husband is the bomb-diggity. He just is. He's my best friend. My partner in every sense of the word.
We all make mistakes. The thing is, we have to learn from them and not repeat them. One step back, two steps forward.

I am so very sorry I hurt Ark with my thoughtless and stupid actions.

I have never been happier in Second Life than I am now, with him. He fulfills me in every way.

Over the last 24 hours, I've built this beautiful little corner of Second Life for us to call our own. Our house. Our beach. Our bed. Our pictures. Our dog. Every item I put in the house, I did thinking of the two of us sharing it.

Only the two of us.
And that's not to say we won't entertain... have others come over either just to hang out, or to play. But that will be with us. The two of us. Together.

And not because that's how he wants it. It's because that's how I want it, too. Our partnership is precious to me. Our space is just that... ours.

I love you, Ark. Thank you for loving me... flaws and all. <3

Monday, December 23, 2013

The Toothache Cure

For the past few days, I've been suffering from a pretty rotten toothache.
I'm very aware that I need to suck it up and go to the dentist. 

Not only is it a shitty time to have to go to the dentist... I have a mortal fear of the bastards. Did you see Marathon Man? Well I fucking did. Fuck that shit. Fuck it. There isn't enough nitrous oxide on the planet to entice me into the torture chair.

Okay, that's a lie. I love that shit. Nitrous is the drug of the gods and if I were going to develop a drug habit, that'd be it. That shit is good.

Anyway, I went to bed last night after doing a bit of shopping with Ark. It was about an hour until I couldn't take the pain anymore and got out of bed to down some pain pills (thank you, Canadian relatives!) and logged into SL to pass the time waiting for them to kick in. Ark had already gone to bed, but I sent him a message that I was awake and in pain... a few minutes later, there he was. 

I was lying in bed wearing one of his shirts and a pair of  not-very-sexy tube socks being miserable and he climbed in and pulled me up on his lap to give me some comfort... and comfort he did! Admittedly, the drugs were just starting to kick in a bit and I was feeling a little warm and fuzzy. After a lot of soft kisses and his hand massaging my inner thigh, I was writhing and the shirt ended up tossed in the floor somewhere. His clothes fell away as he pushed me down on my knees and fed me his cock... Better than Vicodin as far as oral medications go!

Being the good little cock-sucker I am, it wasn't long before he was on edge and wanting more. 
The gentle kisses and caresses were done with. My husband is a rough fucker... and I love it. Holding my hands behind my back, fingers tangled in my hair, pulling it hard... so damn hard. 
That's pretty much an instant orgasm for me. Cock buried in my pussy, just fucking pounding away, slapping my ass. He knows I'm a pain slut. 

And here's the thing about this guy... my guy... He never, ever pushes me to be who he wants me to be. Because I already am.  
I sometimes worry that not being able to spend a lot of time together is going to negatively affect what we have. And then... then when we are together, those doubts just vanish. He accepts me exactly as I am. And loves me, without hesitation or reservation. 

This is the guy who thinks I'm beautiful whether I'm in ratty pajamas and reading glasses, or dressed to the nines. Whether I'm being seductive and sexy, or dorky and nerdy as shit. When I was sad over Zach leaving, he didn't tell me to get over it. He let me be sad and depressed. When he knows he can't be online, and knows that I have needs, he doesn't push me to go fuck other men. He tells me to do what I want, with who I want. If I want. He doesn't ask me to tell him all the nasty details when I do go out and fuck other guys. I tell him about it, yes. If he wants to know more, I'll share. I don't have secrets from Ark because I don't need to. 
At this point, my toothache was long forgotten but he still went all out. ALL out. The man knows I'm a complete anal whore. All it took was me reaching back and spreading my cheeks to show him my tight little pucker and he pulled his cock out of my snatch and pushed me down on the bed. And mother fucking went to town on my asshole. I'm honestly not sure which of us enjoyed this part more... 
Oh, just kidding. It was me. He absolutely destroyed me. Combine my need for pain with my love of all things anal, and I'm fucking gone. Just gone. 
He spent way longer than I deserved using his long fingers to stretch my tight little asshole until I was just screaming... pain, pleasure... all the same. Dragging his tongue from my pink slit, along my perineum, over my now-gaping hole, all the way to the top of my ass crack and back down again... God. The man doesn't miss a spot. 
Holding me wide open with his fingers... burying his tongue as deeply as he could, licking me from inside out. 

Shudders. 

I was leaking all over the bed... just writhing and rolling in my own juices when he shoved his fingers in my cunt. I lost it. It was one of those delicious moments when the divide between SL and RL fade away. The orgasm I had in SL was matched by the orgasm I had in RL. Long, intense, wet and fucking fabulous.
Sitting in my desk chair, shuddering and trembling, quite literally stewing in my own juices, I was blissed to the max. Blessed by this filthy bastard that is my husband. It was his turn... the SL sun was up and I knew it was a few short hours until RL Beth had to be at work but damned if I wanted to leave. I wanted to fuck my man. I rode him like an animal, my pussy still quivering from the insane orgasm he'd just given me. Leaning over him, licking his mouth, cheeks and chin, savoring the musky flavor of my own ass on his lips. So fucking raw and hard, so deep his cock slammed my cervix each time I thrust down on him. 

And that fucking hurt so bad it drove me right into another screaming orgasm. Clamped down on that cock, milking him with my constricting muscles... he filled me with his seed, spurt after fucking spurt, filling my womb... my very soul. 
Yeah, I ended up only getting about two hours of sleep last night and used my toothache as an excuse to go into work late so I could lie in bed reliving what this man does to me.

I'm fucking exhausted now... It's catching up with me. And my fucking tooth hurts again. And you know what? I don't care. There'll be time for sleep later and I still have plenty of pain pills. 

Somehow, the man who perfectly compliments me in every way possible found me and made me his wife. His partner, his lover, his best friend. 

I am a very tired, very happy, very complete woman. 



Sunday, December 22, 2013

Playing With Video Again

Some nights at Teqi's are more interesting than others... thanks for the show, Mr. A.

Tatted And Trashy

"Tattoos don't make you look like an individual." ~ Tony Parsons
Really? A unicorn? 
No where is this more true than in Second Life.

Look, I get that it's a matter of personal preference, and I have nothing against tattoos per se (I have one myself), but do you have to cover your entire freaking bodies with them?
You've spent (hopefully) thousands of lindens on your skin. And it's freaking gorgeous. Why cover it all up with ink?
It all just blurs together and looks like smudged dirt.
It doesn't make you unique and it doesn't make you edgy. It's your personality that does, or should, do that.
Don't even get me started on the crushed velvet and bad fake fur.
I took these photos over a span of about 4 minutes at Teqi's. Do these guys look original? No. They look like douche bags.

I'm not going to judge a man solely by the tattoos you're wearing. But its highly unlikely that I'll approach you. Unless you open the dialogue with me, with something witty, I've probably already crossed you off my list.
Some of my most favorite lovers are covered with tattoos head to toe. And that's because they've shown me something more. They don't need the tattoos, and I'd really prefer if they didn't have them.
The male body is gorgeous. Why do you insist on ruining it with blurred ink?!

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Finish Your Christmas Shopping!

 Oh? You are finished? Are you sure? I don't think you are.
 Do me a favor... before you close your wallet for the year, think about your favorite charity, reach back in your wallet and send them a few bucks.
 As a person who works as a fundraiser for a very worthy charity, I can tell you that the month of December is make or break time for us.
 And also as a fundraiser, I can promise you that it doesn't matter if you give $5 or $5,000. For a good charity that manages its money well, every single dollar helps.
 So before you curl your last ribbon, take a few minutes to think about what causes are important to you.
 If you're unsure whether or not they're a good charity, look them up on Charity Navigator and check out their rating.
 Personally, I'm a big fan of donating to local charities. Of course, I can't tell you where I work so you can donate to mine, but look around your city. I promise there are great organizations doing great work that need you.
 For big charities, my favorite is Heifer International. They are the real deal. Give a flock of chicks, or even a cow.
 Just as long as you give.
 It helps. It really, really does.
 Not to mention, there's this thing called a "donor's high". Doing good stuff makes you feel good. And who doesn't want to feel good?
 So consider this a plea from your friendly neighborhood professional beggar.
 Right now, we need you.
 In this economy, there are some really great charities that are going to go under if their December isn't outstanding.
 Kids, animals, the arts, the elderly (often overlooked)... pick a cause and go for it!
Do it. Now!

And, thank you!

Monday, December 16, 2013

Put Out Or Shut Up

I'm getting real sick of your shit, guys.

It seems like almost every man I know in SL talks a big game... the flirt, the tease... but when it comes time to actually show me what they're made of, they have trouble sealing the deal.
What the fuck?
I love long drawn out foreplay as much as the next girl. The dirty IMs, the tease... but eventually that just gets boring.
That's a game girls are supposed to play, fellas. I'm a woman and I expect you to follow through.

I know it's my own fault... I only go after men who I think have some redeeming sexual qualities. Those are exceedingly rare in Second Life and I'm quite aware those men are constantly in demand.
Well bra-fucking-vo to you.
Count this as another double-standard. You guys all say you want a woman who embraces her sexuality. Grabs hold of the slut label and makes it her own. And then you don't have a fucking clue what to do with a woman who actually wants to fuck.
Playing hard to get is cute for about 10 minutes.
You've got me aroused... great. Now do something about it. Stop being little boys and show me what you're made of. I want men who can deliver.
Slap on your Aeros and give it to me. You know what I want and you've been promising to deliver, in some cases, for weeks.
I'm not waiting forever. Some of you have already pushed the tease too far and my interest is waning.
Is it that you know you've made some many promises about your virility and ability that you know you'll never actually be able to deliver what you've built yourself up to be?
Either you don't actually intend to ever follow through... or when you finally do, I'm not going to be there.
So there you have it, gentleman. Put out or shut up.

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