Filed under: Give your Heart, Valentine Dave, love, poetry | Tags: affairs, cheating, cheating wife, domination, e.e. cummings, horny house wife, horny housewife, house wife, Housewife, love, marriage, relationships, sex, submission
I’m laying in Dave’s arms, and we’re all twisted around each other. Have you ever noticed a vine that’s grown around a tree? Like that. Really comfortable and really warm and yet really new. Strange, because Dave sent me this e.e. cummings a couple of weeks ago, and it came true:
i like my body when it is with your
body. it is so quite new a thing.
muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss. i like kissing this and that of you,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new.
We’re laying together after having sex and he says to me “I knew your skin would feel like this.” He caresses my back and it makes me remember that the skin is the body’s largest organ. I went without physical closeness for so long before Curt. I knew I felt horny. I had a deep yearning to feel a penis inside me. But even after Curt my skin was craving something else. It was craving what I got with Dave. Dave gave me a skin orgasm. He made the skin on my back come.
So I’m laying in his arms and it’s dark and warm and we’ve just eaten the chocolate & strawberries and cheese & crackers picnic he packed for us, and we’re listening to great music from our ipods and I get this strange image in my head.
It’s the jungle in a 1950s technicolor movie. There are four scientists in a tropical lab constructed from palm fronds and bamboo. Very MGM. The scientists are wearing white lab coats and standing over a table that has microscopes and slides and bunsen burners and those kinds of props. They’re all studying something intently. The thing they’re examining is mysterious. They’ve never seen quite this thing before. It has some familiar characteristics. It might be related to a sample that Norwegian doctors catalogued in the Amazon in 1937. But this particular variety is unique.
The head scientist, a tall handsome actor with short dark hair and piercing eyes (he’ll get eaten by a lion in the second half hour of the movie), opens his mouth to say something. Everyone looks at him. “Its…It’s some kind of Love,” he says. Cue dramatic music.
I swear that was the actual mini-movie that played in my head as Dave was holding me. What does it mean? What will happen? Can one married mommy juggle hot sex with a detective, loving caresses with a valentine, and a distant husband who had no idea? Is there another police officer on the horizon? (GASP!…look for an upcoming post called “Cop Karma.”) Find out next time on…
The Secret Confessions of a Horny Housewife.
HH
Filed under: Give your Heart, Valentine Dave, domination, love, marriage, submission | Tags: affairs, cheating, cheating wife, domination, Give your Heart, horny houswife, house wife, Housewife, kevin gilbert, love, when you give your love to me
Just a quickie tonight because I have a lot of stuff flying around in my head and I need to sort it out:
Tomorrow Funny Valentine Dave and I are meeting at a hotel. (That’s right, an actual hotel, not a motel.) My thinking about him has changed so much. Looking back now I see how at first I was so judgemental of him. This is a total cliche, but I think I really liked him and I was protecting myself a little.
My seven-year relationship with my husband has left my faith in Love and mutually-fulfilling romantic relationships very shaky. Like earthquake-shaky. I think I met Dave and was bracing myself for an aftershock. Every e-mail to him was slightly marred by my distracted looks to see if hanging light fixtures were swaying above me. I was kissing him and simultaneously looking over his shoulder, searching the room for the nearest safe door jamb to stand beneath.
And now I see that it was in this way that Curt was so safe. He never wanted more than great sex and fun, hot chemistry from me. Curt was like a…steel…reinforced…retrofitted…I’m going to give up on the earthquake analogy here. I’m too tired.
One of the many songs Dave has sent me is called “When You Give Your Love to Me,” by Kevin Gilbert. (This is a fan performing the song, not Kevin Gilbert.)
When I listen to the song I think about the notion of giving my heart to Dave. And I don’t mean necessarily being in love with him or wanting to run away with him, or saying “I love you,” or getting a notch from him. (See previous post.) I don’t want to prove tomorrow that I’m brilliant or funny or great in bed. I just want to go and connect with him. And be myself. It feels kind of scary. It makes me feel out of control.
It makes me see that Dave, who I orignially thought of as a little too unsure of himself and sexually shy, was actually very brave to open his heart to me. And I like feeling like I can give up some control to my brave valentine Dave. For some reason it makes me think of Constance’s writing about submission I like the idea of a man who knows what he’s doing when I don’t a little bit. I like the thought of being taken care of. I’ve been taking care of others for so long.
HH
Filed under: Cheating Website, Detective Curt, Give your Heart, Notch, Valentine Dave, falling, love, marriage | Tags: affairs, cheating, house wife, Housewife, love, marriage, neon sign, Notch, romance, squirrel
You’ve heard of jock itch. Guys get it. Well I think women get notch itch. I know I do. I’ve got it right now.
Just a few minutes ago, as I was getting ready for my afternoon “date” with Curt, I was finally really honest with myself about something. I realized that I’m waiting for Curt to tell me he loves me. And I’m doing the same with Valentine Dave. I’m not even sure how I feel anymore about Curt. Don’t get me wrong. I know how I feel about the sex. It’s cosmic. But things between us seem to have fizzled a little. We don’t e-mail much. I don’t think about him as much. We hardly talk on the phone.
While on the other hand, things with Dave have become intensely intimate. We continue to e-mail each other yearning, moody, love-steeped music every night. We send each other lovely, tense, sexy e.e. cummings poetry. And I think about him all day. I even fantasize about having sex with him. Yes! I’m fantasizing about fucking Dave, the man who told me he wanted to “make love to me.” [retch!...see previous post]
So why do I want to hear “I love you” from Curt? OK, Horny Housewife, knock down the walls in your brain…get to the kernal inside…stop defending and protecting…just be truthful.
Because it’s a notch. An I-Love-You-Notch. I am wired to want to get as many people as possible to love me and then declare love to me.
I’ve had a lot of love in my life. I have a loving family. I love my son more than the world, and the love I receive from him is my greatest treasure. I’ve had romantic love more than a few times. And I mean true, passionate, earth-moving romantic love. Yet I still want more. I’m like a squirrel gathering nuts for the winter. And I can’t get enough nuts.
But that doesn’t totally make sense. I’ve often thought my pattern with men was to find emotionally unavailable men, get them to love me, and then agonize as their love blinked on and off, like a neon sign with four letters made up of weak bulbs. L-O-V-E. Dim…bright…dim….bright…dim… And I’m standing under the sign saying things like, “I know if I could just change that one bulb, I could at least get that L working. Wouldn’t that be beautiful? Maybe if I call a neon sign repairman. Maybe I could just climb up there myself. Where did I put that ladder…” And it’s all for another notch. All so my little squirrel heart won’t starve over the winter…
But I’ve never been starving. I’ve hardly ever been hungry. So then why am I like a holocaust survivor, hoarding food I’ll probably never eat? I don’t know. Dear readers, do you know? I’d love to know your thoughts about it.
And as a token of my appreciation for your participation, I’ll report back on my afternoon with Curt. And I promise not to leave out a single hot, sexy, hard, wet detail.
HH
Filed under: Give your Heart, Rose, Valentine Dave, falling, love | Tags: affairs, cheating, love, marriage, sex
His name is Dave, and there’s something about his face. He gave me a pink rose yesterday. It’s just a corny Valentines Day supermarket rose, but it smells so sweet. And I love it.
We met about a month ago on that Married-People-Hook-Up-website. His profile was so funny. I’d never seen one like it, so when he e-mailed me I had to respond in kind with a joke. We began corresponding. I loved us on e-mail. We were smart, flirty, and very funny. We met and had a really great day together. I kept thinking he was going to lean over and kiss me, but he never did. Then when we said goodbye I was really sure he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. But I could tell he really liked me.
We went out the other night and we did kiss, but I got a brother vibe. (Ouch!) I was very disappointed. After the brotherly kiss he told me he wanted to “make love to me.” [finger down throat...retch!!!] It was like a sappy scene by the railing on the Love Boat. I need to be told a guy wants to fuck me. Anything less leaves me throwing up in my mouth.
My body…OK let’s be honest…my Vagina….was like “NO WAY, man!”
But my Heart and my Brain were like “Hey, hold on, Vagina. We like him, so it’s two to one. You’re outvoted.”
So my Vagina was like, “OK, dudes, I’ll go along, but I’m not going to like it.”
So Brain and Heart sent Dave an e-mail that basically said “No more clever jokes. No more funny pop culture references. No more brotherly kisses. You and I are alone together in a dark room. What are you going to do to me?”
Dave sent me back a fairly decent dirty e-mail. I told him I wanted more. So he sent an even better one. Even Vagina was moderately impressed with Dave’s second e-mail. So I sent Dave a really hot, really dirty one back. (My dirty e-mail writing skills were sharp from all the delicious smut I’ve been sending Curt.) There was begging. There was teasing. There was pushing. There was sucking. There was coming and kissing.
I decided we should meet at a movie theater and buy two tickets to a really bad movie. So yesterday we went together to see 27 Dresses. At first I was worried we would sit through like 20 dresses just holding hands. But at about dress 2, he leaned in and kissed me. It was a little awkward, but it was not at all brotherly. We kissed for a while. I lost track of what was happening to the bridesmaid chick.
When I finally looked up, to our right I saw another couple really making out. She might have been giving him head. I pointed them out to Dave and then, because Vagina was on board and because I’m inappropriately competitive, I got out of my seat and climbed on top of him.
I straddled him and kissed him more. He noticed that I was wearing a corset with garters and stockings under my short skirt. I could feel his hard penis pushing through his jeans trying to get to me. And I was turned on. I got really wet. After a while I climbed off him and gave him a hand job. I was so wet that I stopped spitting into my hand to rub his penis and I started to just rub my vagina to get my hand all wet, and then I used that as lube on his cock. And he put his fingers in me with some authority. Not bad. Really.
I couldn’t help, of course, comparing Dave to Curt. Let’s face it. You may be a good golfer, but after I’ve played 18 holes with Tiger Woods, your stroke is going to look a little weak. And Curt is amazing. And Curt and I together are amazing.
So I’m jacking Dave off, and Vagina is like “Yup. I’m in.”
And Heart is like “I really like him too. He’s so sweet.”
But Head started to say things like “Do you really need to start sleeping with another person? If you’re not totally in to him, shouldn’t you just step away? Maybe this should be your last encounter with this sweet, smart, funny, wonderful man, because you might really hurt him.”
Then Dave came. After he came he laid down on the movie seats (we had raised all the arm rests) and I sort of curled up against him, with my arms around his chest and my head on his shoulder. That’s when it happened. I started to feel something really strongly for him. This is so not me. Usually, I’m all about the sex. This is going to sound like some crap line from some shitty eighties Movie of the Week (or maybe even The Love Boat…) but after he came, while he was holding me, I fell in love with him a little.
I felt so good. I felt so warm. I felt so loved. It was like I was in a glowing, safe, place, and I just wanted to stay there forever. I even fell asleep a couple of times. (Maybe I shouldn’t give Dave credit for that. It was a pretty bad movie.) After that, even Head was in. She agreed that anyone who made me (us?) feel like that was a keeper. Since then, all I can think of is how I want to meet Dave at a hotel. I want to have sex with him, but most of all I want to lay under the covers in his arms afterwords.
Is there any problem with this? I get hot sex and butterflies in my stomach from Curt. I’ll get laughs, love, good sex, and cuddling from Dave. Why practice monogamy just for monogamy’s sake? I would never say I love talking on the phone with my friend Amanda, so I can’t go to lunch with my friend Sonya.
All day today I kept going over to look at my pink rose, which I put in a vase in my kitchen. When I smell it I remember yesterday and what it felt like in his arms. And remembering it makes me feel so good. So I had a good Valentines Day with my sweet comic valentine. He makes me smile with my heart.
Filed under: hedonism, love, marriage | Tags: affairs, cheating, compulsion, hedonism, impulse, love, marriage, pleasure, sex
In a recent comment Joe insightfully wrote: “Fascinating . . . you seem to be very impulsive at the moment. Do you know why??”
Joe, you really gave me some food for thought. And I think what you’ve said is true. For the past few months I’ve been exploring what it’s like to give in to my impulses. It’s been a season of hedonism. I’ve spent so many years taking care of other people and constantly obsessing about what to do to help other people or fix them or please them. Suddenly, I’m into pleasing myself. (Or sometimes causing other people to please me 
)
I’m experimenting with non-monogamy and I’m writing and I’m actually spending some time on the couch watching TV and I’m going to the gym a lot. Basically, I’m taking care of myself. I’m putting some of my needs and desires before a blind devotion to my husband. I’m trading in my compulsion to be perfect and good and a model wife and citizen for a whirl at creativity, impetuosity, pleasure, laughter, and sex. And I like it. I’m hoping I get used to it. I don’t ever want to go back.
Filed under: Cheating Website, Detective Curt, James, Valentine Dave, kissing a cop, marriage | Tags: affairs, cheating, domination, love, marriage, sex
It’s two days before Valentines Day and nine months before our country’s presidential election, and at this point I think I have more candidates for Valentines than there are candidates for president. I feel like I need to get this sorted out in my head:
-
There’s husband.
-
There’s Curt. Been having amazing sex with him since November. I totally want him. From somewhere deep inside my heart. I want to kiss him, I want to fuck him. I want to suck on every part of his body. (I’ve been called a lamprey…) Not from my head, but in a totally instinctual way. I mean sometimes it hurts. I always forget this part of love: how it aches. I think a lot about whether he’s thinking about me. And I have a strong concern he’s fascinated with someone new. He almost never e-mails me anymore. Or maybe it’s just that we’ve established a pattern and things are not quite so new and strange, so things are fine between us, but he’s just not e-mailing me. But here’s the thing, and I don’t mean to sound egotistical. It’s just the truth. I’ve always gotten every man I’ve ever wanted. So there is some muscle inside my brain telling me that if I really want Curt, I can get him. Then there’s also this little voice saying, “you are about to get your heart bashed in for the first time in your life…”
-
There’s Dave. Been having a clever, funny, chemistry-filled e-mail correspondence with him for about a month. Been on two dates. Kissed once (bad, kissing-your-brother vibe), but we’ve since sent each other some x-rated e-mails that might spice up our physical chemistry. The thing is I like him so much. Something in my gut is telling me to stop things with Dave. I’m not dying to fuck him. I didn’t like kissing him. But I haven’t liked anyone so much for a long time. It’s weird. I hardly know him, but I would miss him so much. And I really love his face. I don’t know what it is about his face…
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Finally, there’s new guy James. Been e-mailing him the past couple of days. Kind of freaky, tattooed, seems to be a compulsive poet. But he really gets me wet. He’s into spanking, and he seems to know just the right thing to say to me. Is it possible I’ll add a third man to my line-up? Technically, two are still on the bench. But it only seems like a matter of time before they get called up to play.
How is it possible that a woman who has been in long-term relationships since she was nineteen (let me get my calculator…ummm…that’s sixteen years!…) and who never before cheated or was tempted to cheat in any way (not even a single kiss!…) and who, until three months ago, had only slept with six men in her life could be having sexual relationships with three men, plus a husband?
I’m not regretting anything. I don’t feel guilty. It feels good, but confusing. And I feel horny right at this moment. Who will I manage to have sex with on Valentines Day?
Gotta go. Want to make sure I have time to masturbate before I pick my son up from preschool…
Filed under: Cops, Detective Curt, Orgasm, domination, hedonism, kissing a cop, sex with cops, submission | Tags: affairs, cheating, domination, love, porn, relationships, sex
Today was my date with police detective Curt. It was great. So much fun. Lots of chemistry. Just a little drunkenness. Great talk. Some wonderfully inappropriate touching in a lumpy booth in a bar. (He ordered me not to wear panties today, then told me to touch myself while were were sitting in the bar together. I was so wet, my legs and dress were dripping…) Picked up some lunch. Drove to a motel. Watched some porn.
Then he put me on my tummy and fucked me really hard. (He had e-mailed me he was going to do this and it was as great as I was expecting.) And, best of all, he made me come. I felt like I was on Cloud 9. I still do.
There’s more. I have to tell you about David. (Really wonderful day together, but he didn’t even kiss me…) I have to tell you about my cheating heart, my marriage, my ongoing sexual relationship with Fernando, and, for Joe, my history of sexual submission. And I have to wrap it up in clever, thoughtful, profound package. But not tonight. I came with Curt. Now it’s officially the best sex I’ve ever had. Dessert is so sweet.
