The View From My Knees

I invited Vincent over for a brief sex-and-dinner date. We both had other things to do that night, but it had been a week since we’d last had sex. I’d had an exhausting day at work and, unfortunately, it took its toll on my sex drive. By the time Vincent arrived I could barely get off the couch. As nice as an orgasm sounded, the though of going through the motions of sex was daunting. Still, I felt bad for inviting him over and then not delivering, so I mustered my strength and took him into the bedroom. We lay on the bed kissing for quite some time – longer than usual. It was nice and relaxing, and I honestly didn’t care to go further. But eventually we progressed and were lying naked together, our hands gently working on each other’s genitals. It felt nice, but I didn’t really feel any of the usual “magic” happening. Finally, I pulled him on top of me and h slipped his cock into me. Again, it felt nice, but as we moved together I began to realize that it just wasn’t going to happen.

“Don’t wait for me to come,” I told him. “I think I’m just too exhausted.”

“Maybe we should try a vibrator,” he suggested.

I grabbed the purple vibrator from the nightstand and held it to my clit as he pumped in an out of me. All of the pieces were in place. Everything was being stimulated in the right way. It all felt very good. It just wasn’t good enough. At least, not for the mood or state of exhaustion I was in. Finally, I gave up and put the vibrator away.

“Are you sure?” Vincent asked. “I want you to feel good.”

“I do feel good,” I assured him. “It’s just not going to happen tonight. Now it’s time for us to focus on you feeling good.”

He reluctantly agreed to keep going. We kissed passionately as our bodies moved together, and it wasn’t long before he gave his final thrust and moaned as he came inside of me.

For a few months I’ve had this nagging pain in my hip. I’ve tried working with my chiropractor and massage therapist, as well as daily yoga and stretching. I’ve scaled back my workouts and take the car or bus a little more often than I walk. The other day I finally broke down and made an appointment with my doctor, but unfortunately the appointment isn’t for another week.

Most of the time my hip pain is just a mild annoyance, others it bothers me enough to pop a pain reliever. And then there are times, like today, when it aches so badly I can barely get off the couch. I’m certain all of the dancing in my friend’s living room at a birthday party with Vincent last night is the cause of today’s extra agitation, but I had such a good time I wouldn’t go back and change a thing about the evening.

Vincent and I were supposed to go shopping together today to pick up some things for his new apartment, but I just couldn’t bear it. I’m sure he was disappointed, but we compromised and he picked me up on his way home from the store so I could keep him company on the couch while he hooked up his new home theater system.

Before long we were spooning on the couch watching reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (perhaps not the best test of a new system, but still fun). His hand crept under the waistline of my pants and I felt an exciting tingle between my legs. As his fingers crept into my underwear, I was surprised to realize that as the desire built inside of me the pain in my hip was quickly subsiding. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back into his chest as he worked his fingers inside of me. I moaned and spread my legs apart wider.

Finally, he whispered in my ear, “should we go into the bedroom?”

“Yes!” I said.

When we reached the bed I quickly stripped off all of my clothing and jumped under the covers. He was soon laying naked beside me, kissing me and working his fingers back into my pussy. I wrapped my hand around his cock and began to stroke. He went back and forth between my clit and my wet hole with his skilled fingers.

“More,” I moaned. “I want more of your hand.”

“Whatever you want, babe. This is all for you.”

“Just be careful not to rub my clit too much or I’ll come.”

“It’s okay if you do. I just want you to feel good,” he said.

“But I want to come with your cock inside of me.”

I moaned louder as he put 3, then 4 fingers inside of me. God, yes, this full feeling was exactly what I’d needed. I’d forgotten about the pain in my hip completely and could now only focus on the delicious pain of his hand filling my pussy until it could barely take any more. Then, without warning, I could feel my pleasure building past the point of no return. I grabbed his hand to make him stop, trying to hold it back, but it was too late.

“Are you going to be able to hold it?” He asked.

“No,” I said with a moan.

I let go of his hand and he pumped it in and out of my pussy as I came loudly. Once my orgasm had subsided he continued to slowly stroke my pussy. “Do you still want my cock in you?” He asked.

“Yes.”

He rolled on a condom and gently climbed between my legs as I lay on my back. Although I didn’t come again (I rarely come twice in one session), the sex was fantastic. It wasn’t long before he came and we were lying naked next to each other in a sweaty heap.

“Does your hip feel better?” He asked.

“Well, it felt awesome all through that.” I told him. “Unfortunately, now that we’re done the pain is coming back.”

“Do you need me to fuck you again?” He asked, half jokingly.

“No,” I giggled. “But that was a nice relief.”

—————-

Now that I’m back home attempting to get some housework done, I find myself considering another orgasm for temporary pain relief. Lucky has to leave soon, so he doesn’t have time (although I’m sure he’d love to help). I guess the question now is whether I should call Vincent to see if he’s free again or just crawl in bed and take care of it myself.

It’s been a long time since Vincent and I have gone an entire date without some kind of fight, argument, or tense moment. But last night we had a nice time. It had hints of the old days.

We started our date with a late lunch at a very fancy tearoom I’d been wanting to try out. I was dressed in a black skirt with my sexiest pink and black corset and completed my look with a sparkly pink top hat pinned atop my pile of dreads. He had donned some of his nicest clothes and my favorite jeweled skull tie. We were quite a pair, and the people working at the restaurant and adjoining shop fawned all over us. Afterward we went shopping at a thrift store to pick up an unusual gift for a friend’s birthday party we’d attend later that evening, then we went back to his place and played video games while sipping beer and wine. We’d been having so much fun all afternoon that I felt closer to him than I had in a long time.

Knowing we might be out late partying, we decided to make some time to be intimate before heading out again. Giggling between kisses, we tumbled onto the bed and stripped off our clothes. Knowing we were already running late, we didn’t take time for foreplay. I rolled a condom onto his cock and jumped on top of him. We had a quick but passionate romp that left us exhilarated.

Before long we were headed out the door to party with friends. We laughed together and looked into each other’s eyes like we did when things were much better. Those times feel like a million years ago, but maybe they’re closer than I realized.

I haven’t been terribly horny lately, thanks to stress, depression, and a lot of tension in my relationships. I was certain, after all of our fighting last night, that Vincent and I wouldn’t have sex. In addition to being on my period, I just find all of our bickering and fighting a huge turnoff. I barely wanted to be in the same room as him, let alone become intimate with him. We both tossed and turned a lot, and eventually he got up and had a beer in the living room. I tried to use the moment of quiet (Vincent has a terrible snoring problem) to get to sleep, but the uncomfortable bed and lack of pillow in the guest room in which Vincent is staying were plotting together to keep me awake. When Vincent returned he put his arms around me and I snuggled up close. We began kissing and my hands wandered down between his legs. I stroked him gently and rubbed my clit through my underwear using the head of his cock.

“Before we get to far into this,” I whispered “I should tell you that I’m on my period and I’ve been having some cramping lately that’s been making sex painful. We can fool around, but I don’t think we should have sex.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“But I do want to feel your cock against my pussy. Take off my underwear.”

He pulled my panties down and tossed them off the bed. I rubbed his cock against my bare clit and let out a moan. “Yes, that does feel good.”

I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter as we ground against each other, until finally I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Do you have something we could put under us if we decided to try having sex?” I asked him.

“Yeah, we could grab a towel.”

“Do you want to do that? I mean, it might be painful but if we’re gentle it would feel so good. And if it hurts too much we can just go back to this.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe we should just stick to this.”

So we continued as we were. Our hands did most of the work, but our bodies gyrated together in perfect harmony. I wanted him inside of me so badly. “Are you sure you don’t want to give it a shot? I want you so bad.”

“I don’t want to start and have to stop.”

“I know, but it might be okay. And if it’s not I can suck your cock and that will feel really good, too.”

Those must have been the magic words, because he finally agreed. I scampered into the bathroom, disposed of my tampon, and grabbed a towel. By the time I crawled back into bed he’d lost his erection so we spent some time rubbing and gyrating again until we were both on the verge of an explosion. I climbed on top of him and guided his cock inside of me. I let out a soft moan as it slid in, trying not to be loud enough to wake our hosts – friends Vincent was staying with – upstairs.

I was amazed at how good it felt. Not because Vincent and I didn’t normally have good sex. It was because for the past several weeks nothing had felt good. Orgasms had been lackluster and disappointing. Even masturbation had lost its appeal. But this…this was wonderful. It was just what I needed. When I finally allowed myself to come it was just as I remembered – just as I needed – it to be.

I certainly hope this is the beginning of the end of my weeks of depression, low libido, and despair.

Original photo by Lucky

I’ve been waffling on whether to write about what’s been going on with me lately. I mean, it’s all very personal and very confusing and not at all sexy. What I really want is to just get past everything that’s going on so that I can start creating (and writing) sexy stories for you again. But part of what you get with this blog, along with the erotic details of my life, is a glimpse into the mind of a real person with real problems. So I guess I’ll just go ahead and lay it all out there.

Where do I start? Well, I’ll just throw the obvious one out there: I’ve moved out. I guess you could say Lucky and I are separated. It’s meant to be temporary. It’s an experiment to force us to work on some problems that have been there for some time, but have been easy to ignore with all of the other things going on in our lives. The problem isn’t that we fight or that we don’t love each other. Lucky and I adore each other and are still very much in love. But for some time now we’ve acted more like roommates than husband and wife. We see each other very rarely, and when we do spend time together it lacks the passion we once had. I think we both just blamed busy lives and a romantic rut, and figured it would get better over time. But it never did. I finally decided that it was time to force a resolution. The scary part is, I don’t know for sure if that resolution will result in me moving back in with my husband. Actually, that isn’t just scary…it’s terrifying.

I didn’t just decide that this problem needed attention out of nowhere. Admittedly, there were some catalysts. Several months ago, I ended a very intense, passionate relationship with Vincent – someone who is very special to me. As is common with those fiery, passionate relationships, we crashed and burned in a big way so that today we are barely even friends. The loss of Vincent and that passion left me feeling empty, and instead of turning to the person that should have been my anchor, I tried to fill that void with more dating (in part because my anchor was never around). It almost worked, but once the buzz of the new flings started to fade it all felt so meaningless. I started to realize that I wasn’t interested in casual dating anymore. I even wondered if I wanted to be non-monogamous anymore. I was slipping into an identity crisis and was afraid to talk about it with anyone because I felt like questioning my personal relationship style was the same as questioning the validity of the lifestyle in general. I firmly believe that polyamory is a valid and natural lifestyle, but I can’t say for sure it’s right for me anymore. However, being poly had been such a huge part of who I was for the past 6 years that I wasn’t sure I knew who I would be without it, and the thought of being only with Lucky with the current state of our relationship was…well…just out of the question.

My crisis was paused temporarily when I fell into an unexpected relationship with Kris. He was someone unlike anyone I’d ever dated before. I was amazed that two people who were so different could get along so well, but we did. We had some amazing times. Every time we were together was a new experience for me, and I felt like I was learning about parts of myself that I never knew existed. I was excited about the adventures we would have in the future and where this relationship might go, but there was another element to this relationship that was new and surprisingly – confusingly – comfortable. He told me fairly early on that he had no interest in dating other people and it was clear that he preferred for me not to date others, as well (Lucky excepted). At first I was afraid that this would be stifling and put too much pressure on me. After all, it’s been over 6 years since I’ve been someone’s “one and only.” I didn’t have the confidence that I, alone, could fulfill someone’s needs and desires. But, at the same time, I found it surprisingly comforting. I’d been struggling with a growing distaste for casual dating and polyamory, and now I’d fallen into a relationship that almost gave me an excuse to step away from those things. Of course, I was still technically polyamorous. I was very much in love with Lucky, and at the same time I was falling hard for this new person. But that was all I needed. No, it wasn’t just all I needed, it was everything I needed. I was completely fulfilled. I was happy. I didn’t want to date anyone else. I believed that this might be the solution to my identity crisis. I believed I could be happy indefinitely with these two wonderful men in my life and no one else. I was still poly, I was just a different kind of poly. This was something easier for me to accept and understand. And then, just as I thought everything was going so well, the rug was pulled out from under me. Kris ended the relationship.

Despite how well we were getting along, I knew that the relationship was a long shot from the very beginning. I believe that a propensity for polyamory is as much a part of a person’s core being as their sexuality. And, while some people are very naturally polyamorous, others are very naturally monogamous (and still others can be happy either way or swing back and forth throughout their lives). I don’t feel that either lifestyle is better than the other, I only feel that societal predjudices often prevent people from exploring alternatives to monogamy that may be more suited to them. It was clear to me from the very beginning that he was naturally monogamous. It was the reason it was so difficult for us to get together in the first place. But I foolishly thought that our attraction to each other – both physical and emotional – would help us find a way to make it work. If I’d realized that being wrong would have been so devastating, I probably wouldn’t have allowed myself to try this experiment. I guess I didn’t realize how much I had to lose.

On a dreary Tuesday afternoon, after several days of heart-wrenching silence, we met at a coffee shop and he told me it was over. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for me, he explained. He just couldn’t live with being second best. He didn’t want to feel like he was constantly competing for my affection with other people. As he explained how he’d been feeling, I sipped my tea and held back my tears. I didn’t tell him that i had no interest in those other people. I didn’t tell him that, despite my deep love for my husband, he wasn’t second best. I didn’t tell him that I was madly in love with him and, if he’d only give it more of a chance, we could find a way to make this work. I just let him go. He’d obviously done a lot of painful soul searching to reach this conclusion, and I felt that it would have been selfish to try to change his mind. And so I just sat there in a daze and tried to be understanding. It wasn’t until we hugged goodbye that I started to break and the tears started to form in my eyes. But I managed to wait until he was out of sight before I truly broke down.

What had just happened? I’d lost something – someone – who made me very happy for reasons that didn’t even feel real anymore. He couldn’t be with me because I was polyamorous and married, but my marriage was – to put it bluntly – a sham and I didn’t even know if I wanted to be polyamorous anymore. And the worst part was that the friendship I’d cherished was also gone. Sure, we said we’d still be friends, but he pulled away so drastically that I knew things would never be the same. I was left with nothing but a huge void and a growing self-loathing that was truly frightening. I went on a self-destructive binge of drinking, drugs, and despair. One night I found myself in such a deep, dark place that I knew I had to make some changes soon or I would hurt myself.

So here I am. I’m taking time away from my home and my marriage to rediscover who I am and what I want. I’m forcing Lucky and I to make an effort to spend time together and truly appreciate it. Soon I will start counseling. Admittedly, I’m still in the midst of my self-destructive binge. I can’t remember the last time I was sober for an entire day. But I hope that this drastic life change, along with some professional guidance, will help me figure out what I need to be happy – and sexy – again.