Wednesday, June 10, 2009

I Don't Know

I don't know what to do about M.

I have tried to tell him how much it hurts me to know that he hasn't stopped fucking his FWB, and how he has lied to me about ending their sexual contact. I have tried to tell him that when he says he will call me, as he did on Saturday, then doesn't, and doesn't the next day, or the next day, or the next day, that it drives me to think he doesn't care about how I feel. I have given him months to address the FWB issue, and I was grateful for any bit of attention he gave me. I thought when he invited me to see his band play, and introduced me to his friends and co-workers, that it meant he was taking me out of the closet, finally. But he didn't introduce me as his "girlfriend", just by my name.

Yet, he tells me he loves me. He says I seem to know him better than he knows himself. He says I'm considerate to him, remembering little things he says and then using the information to enrich his time with me. He's said he's thought about what it would be like if we lived together. He's said that I'm the best sex he's ever had. He's said he'll tell FWB about me, and that they need to stop having sex, that he chooses me.

I don't know what to believe. When I try to talk to him about the turmoil I feel, it ends up me talking and him staring into space with his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched, not saying a word. I do all the talking, while he tries to think of things to say that won't make me angrier or more hurt, but I guess he can't think of anything, because he barely says anything at all.

I wanted him to do things in his own time, because he wanted to do them. I want him to want to be with me more than he wants to be with FWB, but it seems like he's completely unwilling to hurt her by cutting her off, and absolutely willing to go on corrupting whatever relationship it is we have.

I have tried to be as honest with him as I am with myself. I have been faithful to him from the night I met him. I loved him months before I actually said the words. I have cooked for him. I have swallowed my feelings, at times, in order to have his time with me be pleasant and fun. I've ignored his lies. I have been supportive of all his endeavors, and sympathetic to all his disappointments. I have tried to love him wholly and completely, without reservation. I kept back some of the ugliest aspects of my life, not out of shame on my part, but to not burden him with the responsibility of that knowledge. I have tried to keep my "neediness" and "craziness" to a minimum.

Nothing I do or say seems to make any difference to him. To my knowledge he hasn't stopped seeing FWB, tho I haven't spoken to him about it since I said it's either her or me two weeks ago. It's day 5 of him not calling or seeing me, tho we did chat via yahoo a bit yesterday. I still can't visit him at his place, for fear that FWB will hear of it, and flip out on him, as if she has any right to be upset and I'm the one who has to keep her mouth shut stuffed away in the closet.

What am I supposed to do? End the relationship with the guy I love? Does it matter that I love him, when he seems to care so little for me? Does he love me? Will he stop seeing FWB, ever? Or will he continue to be with her thru all his subsequent relationships, and then end up spending the rest of his life tied to her? What does he want?

He's said a couple times that maybe he should take some time to be by himself. That he should take some time to get his life in order before he's with me. I know what that means. That means he's going to go back to being single, occasionally fucking FWB, and abandoning me with a broken heart and a trail of lies and betrayals. I don't know what it means that he could say he loves me, yet give me up so easily, just to save the feelings of someone who he says he doesn't want to be with anymore. I don't know what that says about what he thinks I'm worth.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Ah, it's been tough and fabulous with M lately. It has been so difficult dealing with this FWB bullshit, but ironically (?), our sex has been PHENOMENAL. It is always good, very often awesome, but recently, it has been mind-blowingly fantastic. We look at each other afterwards in wonder, astounded that our sex, particularly since we've been together for almost a year now, is only getting better. I don't know why it has happened, but I'm not complaining.

Take, for example, last night. M is not much of a dirty talker. I love dirty talk during sex, and have prodded him with requests and sexy type questions while we fuck, to get him to talk a little. I didn't press it too hard or too often; I didn't want him to be distracted or feel too pressured to do anything that he was uncomfortable doing. But last night, he just went off ! He spoke to me nearly the entire time, keeping up a near constant stream of Dominant speech.

His actions were extremely Dominant as well. Before he even began to talk, he was making me submit physically. It surprised me, because he's usual more subtle, less physically aggressive with me. He has continued to take "baby steps" with our play, yet this seemed like one big leap for him.

I love anal sex. I have stated that on this blog before. However, I don't really enjoy fingers in my ass. I don't know why this is, it simply doesn't feel the same to me, and I just don't like it. Not even really a fan of rimming, either. M knows I don't enjoy it, but he does like it. And last night he wanted to put his fingers in my ass, so he did. And I squirmed, and tried to shift away, and I made little whiny noises. I would try to submit to it, and he slid his fingers over my clit, and into my cunt, but always one finger digging in and out of my asshole.

I kept writhing and trying to slide away, but he would smack my ass, and then I stayed in place...for a little while. And I felt myself sinking into subspace. He spanked me every time I tried to shift away, until I got more insistent with my resistance. I wanted to obey, but I also wanted to struggle, to make it stop. But I also didn't want to struggle too much, because I loved submitting to something I didn't like to please him, and I didn't want his concern with my pleasure to end up trumping the pleasure he was taking in doing what he wanted.

He didn't give up in his treatment of my ass despite my protesting. I wriggled too much for him, so he sat on my back to hold me in place. It was fucking glorious! I still wriggled a bit, but I couldn't shift around enough to extract his fingers. I tried to cross my legs, but he just opened them up again, and I was so subdued by that point I relented to whatever he wanted.

After he had had his fill of fingering my ass, he fucked me, but not before he made me beg for it. He'd never done that before. He laid on my back, stroking the head of his cock at the opening of my cunt, pressing in just enough to urge me on. I wanted to be creative in my begging, to show him how interesting I could be, to display how eager and hungry I was to have him in me. I wanted to give him a response that would turn him on more, and encourage him to talk like this to me again. I am sorry to say that I don't think I accomplished that high minded objective, but I did beg sincerely.

By this time I was so deeply into subspace I am thankful I was even able to speak at all. My hesitation in responding to the questions he posed or the prompts he gave were only due to my inability to articulate, and not because I was reluctant to answer or participate. M made me beg, made me say I was a whore for him. I tried to go beyond that and say I was his whore; that I belonged to him. I don't know that I did well being sexy; I have always found it difficult to remember and accurately portray what happens during subspace.

He fucked me from behind for a while, and then flipped me onto my back, pushed my legs up towards my chest by my thighs, and began to plow into me deeply. Oh. My. God. Fire spreading from my cunt across my body. I looked up at M, and he was staring into my eyes, and I felt like my whole body was flushed red with heat. He held my gaze, and pressed his cock all the way in, held it for a second or two, slid out a bit, then back in all the way. And it felt so good I begged him not to stop doing it. Over and over I said "Please, don't stop. Please don't stop. Please, don't stop," in rhythm with his thrusts. And I thought to myself, "My God, I hope I give him as much pleasure as he gives me," and as i threw my head back, I closed my eyes and let the sensations splash over me.

When he came, he came across my face and in my mouth. We both collapsed against my pillows, panting and amazed. I had his cum across my lips and I looked over at him and teased him by sticking my tongue out to lick at the thread of semen above my lip. He reached over and gathered up the thickest trails of cum and feed them to me, and I sucked at his fingers hungrily.

He loves to see how eager I am to eat his cum, and I think he's so fascinated and astounded by my enthusiasm that he doesn't even have a corresponding facial expression for it, aside from rapt fixation. Heh heh :)

Afterward we chatted. We chat about the sex we just had, about what we were like as teenagers, about the "art" we created while teenagers, about what he likes about me ( I make him "tire iron" hard... Heh heh), about current events...And it was so comfortable, and easy, and warm, and pleasant. He told me he likes when my hair looks like I've been recently fucked. If that's what he likes, then I must look hot to him very often beacuse I am never with my boy more than an hour before we are fucking. Heh heh. :D

So comfortable that I felt I could say to him, "If I tell you something will you promise not to freak out?"

He responded (and I LOVE that he said this because I totally expected it and would have said the same thing myself) "I can't promise I won't freak out, but I'll try." I told him I understood he couldn't promise, just to keep the trying in mind.

And I said, "Sometimes, sooometimes, I think about what it would be like if we lived together."

And my beautiful boy leaned down and rested his head on his cupped hand, so casually, and said "Why would I freak out about that? I've thought about it, too. Why do you think I asked you about how our cats would get along?"

And then we gave it a very tiny bit of discussion. My apartment is too small for us both to live in, especially with 3 kitties. We touched this common thought, then both quickly back peddled from it. I said, "I think about it, but I love my apartment." He said, "I have too much stuff to move in." And, always, the kitties.

And then, right on fucking cue, I ruined it. I fucked up the closeness. I destroyed M's feeling of connectedness with me. He had to leave, and I pouted. I pouted and acted too greedy. I am not sure if it was a bit of residual submissiveness ( I'm loathe to excuse it that simplistically), but I begged him to stay. I didn't want the fun/conversation to end. He said he didn't want the great conversation we were having to end either, but I acted like a spoiled child angling for more. Ugh!

I'm such an asshole. I have a talent for negating all good things. I'm such an asshole...