Re-Routed

I left off about four months ago.  We were on the cusp of change.  Moving.  Changing jobs.  Relocating our family.  And suddenly our plans changed.

About one week after I wrote my last post, my father died.  I knew it was coming, but didn’t expect him to go as quickly as he did.  I had the time to say what I needed to say to him.  Most of his family visited and he was at peace.  He knew he was loved.

My first day at the new job was delayed by a week, because of his passing.  I work for hospice, so if anyone understands everything that’s involved in dealing with death, hospice does.  They were understanding and even sent flowers to his service.  And then everything changed in a matter of a week, that week I was supposed to have started.

I walked into the office on my first day, and the three people who’d interviewed me were no longer with the company.  My direct manager, the administrator and the regional director.  All gone.  The replacements were of a completely different mindset and had little to no concern for me or anyone else, nor for anything other than our numbers.  It was like walking into a lion’s den.  To make matters worse, I fell walking into a hospital to visit a patient and broke my foot.  I’ve been sequestered to a desk since June, when I typically work in the field.

M’s job was not what it seemed either.  The director of human resources that recruited and hired him, left after his second week on the job.  No one else was designated to train him, so they tucked him away in a corner, watching training videos for three weeks.  There was a complete restructure of his department, and his position changed significantly.  Needless to say, he’s not happy.

The good news in all of this…we never relocated.  It was almost as if God was looking out for us.  We were outbid on the first house we liked and the second one had some major underlying issues, so we retracted our offer.  It seemed there were all these obstacles around us finding a place to live.  I am so thankful.  We hate the commute, but we find ways to make it work while we look for jobs closer to home.

All of this turmoil has left me in a strange place.  I am still grieving over my father.  He and my mother died within 18 months of each other and that’s a lot to process.  I really dislike my job and feel that I am being spiritually led to other ventures.  I need to cultivate a different career path…one that allows me more time with my children and M.  I am happiest when I serve others, and I’ve lost that part of job satisfaction where I am.

So our life has been re-routed.  But we are still strong.  Our family continues to thrive.  And I am ever-grateful to be on this path to ‘whatever comes next’ with my M…even if he won’t stop to ask for directions.  I know he will lead us to where we need to be.  I know he will help me find who I’ve yet to become.  the hunt

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

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Making Up for Lost Time

There is nothing like marathon make-up sex to make it all better.  Since M’s been back, we’ve been back at it…each and every and any opportunity we can.

In the morning before work…

Those” run home for a quick lunch” Nooners…

The “we have 30 minutes before the kids get home from school” afternoon delights

Those “time for bed” at 8:30 evenings where we don’t actually go to sleep until 1:00 am

The wee hour “wake up call” where there’s no need for an alarm, beacause we never go to sleep.

And as much as I love how he takes me.  How he controls me.  The immense pleasure we share…what I really love, is how close we are becoming.  It feels like the brief hiatus ignited our devotion to one another.  I find myself more submissive.  I am more acutely aware of my service to him.  I want to give more of myself to him.

And on a side note, all of this action is great for my fitness routine.

Now if I can just get some sleep.

all the time

 

 

Here to Stay

car

Our time apart was brief. It was simply a time to breathe and account for where we are in our lives.  Who we are.

Where we are as a couple. And where we want to go.

The windshield is clean, our path is clear and laid out in front of us. He remains in the driver’s seat and I am his loyal passenger as we drive off into the sunset…into this next phase of us. No big life events planned. It’s just that we have now experienced what life would be like apart, and neither of us wants that.

When he arrived home, things were a little awkward. We were friendly and affectionate, but there was a formality. A hesitancy in the mood. I think we were both shell-shocked from the time apart and we felt weary and worn. Also, he didn’t arrive until 2:00 am, after an 8-hour drive. We were both exhausted. We talked for a bit and retired to bed.

I was drifting off to sleep when he leaned over and kissed me. I opened my eyes and found him watching me as I dosed. He kissed me again. His mouth tasted divine and my lips felt like a magnet, drawing towards his. We didn’t talk. We just kissed each other for a long time. Soft sweet kisses. Open passionate kisses. Slowly kissing. Taking it all in.

I found myself aroused by his mouth. I couldn’t get enough of his lips on mine. Feeling his tongue explore mine. The sweet taste. My mouth watered for more. My body salivated for his touch.

He pulled me to him and we began to make love. His touch felt so good on my skin and even better on my soul. His love penetrated me so deeply that I could feel my heart bleeding for him. For us. Each movement was affirmation that there is not another human being in this universe made for me, as he is. This connection. This depth is something that I was destined to have with my One.

My orgasms were swift and powerful and profoundly meaningful. I found myself, once again, shedding my layers for him. Revealing myself…more of myself. Giving all to him as it should be. I was so overwhelmed with pleasure and joy that I began to weep. Releasing everything as I laid my head on his chest. He breathed me in with each breath and exhaled himself, filling me with the air I need to thrive.

Afterwards, I reflected on our beautiful session, thinking about how amazing he is. How good we are together. And I realized the reason why we are so attuned to each other. I figured out how it is that every time, over a year into this, the sex is mind-blowing, existential and powerful. It our connection and it is our selfless love of each other. Each of us puts the other first…their needs and desires. There is no hidden agenda of me “getting mine” or him “getting his.” It is absolute selfless love and focus on the other person. We demonstrate this in how we make love. And we demonstrate this selflessness in our relationship. Always putting the other first.

This is what a real relationship looks like. A first for me. This is a healthy, happy place that I share with my M who makes it a reality. His love and adoration of me, gives me permission and acceptance to finally love myself. And this love allows me to give him all that I am. It’s a beautiful exchange.

Welcome home, M. Our love is here to stay.

Rolling in the Deep…

This won’t be a sexy, metaphorically-laden clever post.  Folks, this is where the sh*t gets real.

We are approaching 4 months since M’s arrival.  For the number people (I happen to be one) That’s 120 days.  That’s 2880 hours.  That’s one third of a year.

And the veneer has worn off.

Yes, we have farted in front of each other.  He has seen me at my best and my worst.  He sees the in between.  He sees through my bullshit.  And occasionally, I feel a tinge of panic…because there’s nowhere for me to hide.  He will reveal me

. He has seen me swell with pride as my oldest graduated from high school, with honors.  He was there when my 7 year old had his art show.  And my 2 year old runs to him first when we both arrive at daycare to pick her up.  I am His.  He is mine.  And the kids are morphing into ours.  We are a family.  A happy family.

He is here when I fall apart…I lost my job of 6 years due to a major shift in budget.  He was here to help pick me up, reassuring me that all would work out.  Reminding me that we will be fine.

He is by my side as I watch my father’s health deteriorate.  We put him on hospice this week.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to face.   And I am not alone in the journey…he is here.  Leading me as my protector.

And in the midst of this chaos, he is my strength.  He helps me unpack the years of baggage I carry with me.  My burden is lighter because he works me through my issues.  (I sometimes feel like he needs to bill me for a copay)

beautiful

This is the beauty of a strong relationship.  This is the epitome of D/s.  It’s not the kink.  It’s not the scenes.  (Those are wonderful and have their purpose.) But this where we go deeper.  This is where I give all to my M and he gives me sanctuary.  This is where we grow. We have a long way to go, but I will say that we walk the road together.  And when I want to run and hide…when I want to forge ahead, or lag behind….he reminds me of who I am.

I am HIS… I belong to Him, and He’s got this.

walls

(Quotes from Pinterest) 

The “OG”

So a couple of posts back I wrote about the connection with the surname, “Gray/Grey” and the connotation behind the characters.  Seems I overlooked one very important character.

Dorian Gray, the OG (Original Gray).

How could I forget the infamous hedonist who sold his soul to keep his beauty and youth?

It was the only novel written by Oscar Wilde and it was not well -received in Victorian London.  With its themes of hedonism and homoeroticism, the criticisms of the novel were harsh and dismissive.  It caused quite a scandal in those times.  (I wonder how it would fare today.  I wonder if it would be displayed near the impulse items at Target, just like the new Grey book.  Hmmmm….)

Here’s an interesting fact.  The book, The Picture of Dorian Gray, was actually based on a real character, a “friend” of Oscar Wilde’s named, John Gray.  And Wilde only changed the first name…not protecting the identity of the not-so-innocent, Gray.  Being an avid researcher, I found the truth behind this tale is actually stranger than fiction.  I never saw this coming.

the og

Here’s a synopsis/comparison of the two Grays:

Dorian was described as beautiful and breathtaking. John was described as an “Adonis” of a man.

Dorian was wealthy and traveled in high social circles.  John was of the middle-class, in south-east London.

Both characters led a decadent lifestyle, seeking pleasure with full abandon.

Dorian Gray ultimately kills himself by stabbing his decaying portrait, which in turn becomes him in the flesh and he dies.

For a brief time, John Gray enjoys the infamy of his doppleganger, Dorian, and it is reported that he actually began signing his name, Dorian.  He then repents, leaving his Decadent Movement affiliations behind in London, goes to Rome and eventually is ordained as a priest.

WHAT????

Yes, this is how the story…the true story…goes.  In summary….one of Oscar Wilde’s lovers is so handsome that he writes about him and his hedonistic lifestyle in a novel, not changing the last name.  Said lover enjoys the infamy and then has a complete about-face, and repents.  But he is not satisfied to merely repent from his days of debauchery…Instead he packs up, moves to Rome and spends years becoming a priest.

To tie things up (no bondage reference intended) it seems that the real John Gray, was aptly named.  He embraced his darkness for part of his life and then turned towards the light. Making him, his life…its own shade of gray.

And ladies and gentlemen, that’s why he’s the real OG.