My sex life has definitely perked up lately. Now that the stress of moving, money, the IRS, fighting with the old landlord and other stressors (as if that all wasn’t enough) have faded, the Hunter and I have been frisky lately. I have to give the man a lot of credit — he is creative.
He is enamored with the oversized bathtub in our bedroom. I bought him a big bag of Epsom salts and he’s blissful. After a long day of work/errands/chores, he enticed me to join him. I lit some candles, put on some music and we sank into a delicious soak….and then a delicious fuck because of course he wanted to try out EVERYTHING with the bathtub. I love the man’s spontaneity and creativity when it comes to sex. It was a fun evening.
Something on his To-Do list is to fuck on the stairs — we haven’t gotten to that. But we have tried out the daybed (great) and the new master bedroom (awesome). I am so grateful that he puts the time and energy into keeping things fresh.
That’s all for now. I have a journal full of random thoughts, so I’ll try to get some of them into the blog. Life is good. We are both busy and excited about our upcoming vacation. More on that later also. Ciao for now!
Photo by Robb Leahy on Unsplash
Nicole had this cool, hip androgynous vibe that just mesmerized me. She would run her fingers through her hair and swoop back the bangs of her asymmetrical pixie haircut. She was wearing a cool pair of Raybans which hid her beautiful pale green eyes. She had full lips that hid a beautiful smile.
I’m not sexually attracted to women, but something about Nicole struck a vibe in me that wanted to go home and fuck the shit out of the Hunter. She was, to me, incredibly sexy and 100% unattainable.
We met at a networking event. She was the +1 of her partner, a fem attorney. As they sat together on the patio on a sofa, she touched her partner’s arm. When her partner mentioned that the sofa didn’t have enough pillows, she immediately got up and retrieved another pillow to make her comfortable. The same attentive Acts of Service and physical touch that I love about the Hunter.
Nicole dressed in dark skinny jeans, with a nondescript dark long-sleeve shirt that partially hid her sleeve tattoo. She had a purse — no, let’s call it a bag that was like a hip worn leather messenger bag. Her fingers were long, masculine with very short nails. I sat across from her and just stared.
She has a very demanding, stressful job as a high-profile first responder. We talked about the male-domination of her field and mine. Mostly I just nursed my glass of wine and drank in the amazingly cool vibe that Nicole projected. It was one of confidence, acceptance of who she is — may I aspire to be that cool and hip.
Hi Hunter! Yes, he is reading my blog and yes, things erupted after he read my previous post. Sigh. I need to trust him more and realize that honesty is the best policy when it comes to our relationship.
As we snuggled this morning, post wake-up fuck, he murmured that our relationship took a hard hit from this last kerfuffle. I agree. We are sleeping in separate beds, but enjoying the good night’s sleep that comes from not sharing the covers (him) or loud snoring (me) of a loved one. I can stay up and read. He can go to bed super early. But are separate beds healthy for our relationship? Pros and cons. Pros and cons.
Apparently we are part of a bigger trend — people who have the balls to say, “I love you, but I really want a good nights sleep so go somewhere else”. USA Today and Huffington Post cited a study that cited 25% of couples sleep separately. I honestly don’t mind the separate beds these days because I have been sleeping like a baby. The Hunter feels the same — my snoring isn’t bothering him and waking him up. Will this continue? Perhaps off and on. I do enjoy when he jumps in bed with me in the morning for a snuggle and a fuck.
As for our relationship hit, that’s a story for another day.
The Hunter had been out of town for almost a week. He was out in the woods freezing his tuckus off. I stayed behind to work both on Maggie & Co and around the house. I got the tree set up (quite lovely if I do say so myself) and went to a bunch of networking BS. When he first left, I got really anxious. Anxious about work, money — my usual triggers. I had a migraine when he left and it stayed with me for two days. Lovely. I was glad he was gone because I was not fit to be around.
Then the headache lifted and I decided it was time to get my shit done. I got the house cleaned up and then listened to Christmas music for about 10 hours straight. I decorated the tree, wrapped some gifts and found my spirits lifting. It was lovely. I feel much better even though today my accountant’s bookkeeper sent me an estimated tax bill that is 3x what I was expecting. I gulped down two glasses of wine and some chocolate to keep myself under control. I’ve asked for more information — I’m sure there has to be a mistake for a number of reasons.
Anyway, enough BS about day-to-day life. The Hunter returned a day after my Son arrived for his winter break. Son and I had a lovely dinner together to get caught up on his life. He is one semester from graduating and we are discussing his next step. I never had to worry much about Taz’s next steps — it was more school, more training and the choices were more about where rather than what. My Son now has to think about both what and where, so it’s a completely different conversation. He has ideas and is on the right track, so I’m not too worried about him.
The Hunter arrived home and it was so good to feel his arms around me. I needed his hug. He was exhausted and crawled into bed a couple of hours later. I joined him a couple of hours afterwards (7:00 pm bedtime is a bit too early for me). He instantly wrapped me in his arms and held me close. It was divine. I needed it. Then he turned me over to fuck me lovingly and thoroughly. We fell asleep with his worn-out dick still in my pussy. It felt so good.
I am at peace. Even with the work stress, I am OK. Nervous — yes, a little, but I know that I’ll be OK. I’m not happy to be in such a shitty financial predicament, but I have no one to blame but myself, so I better put my head down and work hard. I have had these cycles before, but I had a husband who earned more so the pressure wasn’t so intense. Now that I am responsible for all my living expenses, I have to be an Amazon. I feel confident. I am fierce. Look out 2018 — Maggie’s gonna kick some ass.
We went out to breakfast and passed by a franchise of a massage place. There has been a flurry of lawsuits and accusations of sexual misconduct by various masseuses in various locations of this particular franchise in my neck of the woods. I told the Hunter about it and he laughed because he already knew that franchise was notorious.
“Wait a minute, it was male masseuses that were accused”, I explained. He commented that he had come across females willing to provide a happy ending. “Wait, what — there, not an Asian massage parlor?” Yes there, he tells me.
“I was never offered a happy ending,” I pout. He laughed again — they will never offer he explains. You have to ask. “How the heck do you ask?” You throw down $100 on the table. “Seriously — you are just messing with me,” I squeal. Nope, it’s the truth.
The Hunter explains his slick tactic. He tells the girl that she works hard, she’s pretty and offers to give her a massage. He gets her on the table and gives her a massage. His crotch happens to be right at her head as she is face down….and he ends up with a blow job. That’s one strategy. He has others….
I am speechless. “Seriously — you have done this? It’s that easy?” He laughs and says yes. He says so many of these women and sex workers he has come across are so abused both verbally and physically that as soon as he is nice to them, they are more than accommodating. They will date him if he wants, provide freebies all because he schmoozed them with his sexy voice and gentle words.
I have known from the beginning that the Hunter has quite an extensive sexual history involving strippers, other sex workers, women he worked with, women he met through work, and generally any attractive woman that crossed his path. We have few secrets and absolutely no judgement. I just found it hilarious today to pry that little vignette out of him.
Here is a New York Times article about a woman after my own heart and an Ashley Madison devotee to boot. My BFF always said I needed to write a book about those days…
Dating 6 Men at 68: The Woman Behind the Musical ‘Curvy Widow’ https://nyti.ms/2xHlkjK
The difference of a week in my life. The work rollercoaster for me is approaching the crest. My projects are beginning to align and I see some nice pay days in the next 30-45 days. What a relief!! I just sat down at my computer and had several projects move forward with good, positive results that should result in $$$. Thank goodness. I read another book on time management and this one clicked with me, so I am slowly trying to implement my new lessons.
But let’s talk about something much more fun – sex.
Last weekend the Hunter was feeling feisty. We had some great romps including one oily roll in the bed that left me breathless and slippery as an eel. It is such a wondrous thing to have a relationship and a man that after two years, he can still pull out something new and fun. We spent Easter with old friends of mine who really like the Hunter and we all get along splendidly. It was a lovely weekend, but on Sunday evening I was feeling a little off.
Monday morning, I still felt off. I had to pee, slight burning. Oh dear, God, NO. It continued to build all day. Please, NO, NO, NO! Yep, by Monday early evening I was in agony with a full-blown UTI (probably has to do with all the baby oil unfortunately).
Now I have come to realize many truths about myself (and this may end up being a post all on its own), but one primary truth is that I am a lousy sick person. Bitchy, whiny and generally miserable. A UTI escalates those traits 10-fold. The Hunter, truly the kindest, most emphatic person, is getting ready to take me to the UrgiCare when it dawns on me – Taz is a fucking legit doctor albeit not in my state and she’s studying to be a surgeon, but she’s an MD who can write prescriptions!
I text her and within 10 minutes she has phoned in my prescription. Within half an hour and $10 later, I am on the road to recovery. The other cool thing – I am her first family member prescription. I am so honored and it’s actually quite hilarious that it’s for a friggin’ UTI. A friend told me I should save the Rx bottle as a momento. I’m not sure Taz and I want the the memory of her first Rx being for her mom’s UTI – LOL.