Intimate Fun

He and I just spent.. several hours in bed. 

It started out weird..

I had been asking him to play with me the last couple days, I needed release. But he hasn’t wanted to because of all the fighting. Not that I blame him..

But he helped me anyway.. and we both got off. And then we just kept touching eachother. Talking. About us, and her, and him and her, and me and her, and all three together..

And our spark came back.. and we went again. And he was whispering in my ear all kinds of nasty things involving the three of us.

And it was good.

He started off simple, little things he knew I liked.. then he expanded on things I might like.. naturally, he was right..

Near the end, he used his phone to find and play audio of lesbian women moaning and we were done, together.

We came once again together.. aimple passion, just us.. then I took a shower, and he stroked himself watching me. It was good.

Oh.. apparently tonight I’m sitting in between them on the couch..

Keeping it close

I haven’t posted because.. what do I say?

I’ll back up.

After my last post, he did something [small] that upset me. I cried over the dishes. He came to give me a hug from behind, turned me around, and noticed the tears.

He said he hates hurting me and was seriously looking for a way to push her out of our lives.

A: relief.
B: dread.

A: I want her gone, I want my life back. I want him to myself.
B: if it isnt her, it’ll be someone else. My life is forever changed, regardless. I will never have him to myself. And if he pushes her away, he won’t be happy either.

I calmed down. I stopped fighting. I tried to be more open.

Then we got drunk and she and I ended up in her room. Naked. I hated myself the next day. Regardless, the next day we got drunk again. But this time he tried to join and I couldn’t handle it. I guess on some level I thought if I could please her, she wouldn’t want him. And I could have him to myself again.

Talk about keeping the enemy close..

Now I’m trying to deal, again. I’m trying harder to be grateful for what I do have. Things like a roof, food, oxygen, having a job, the time he does spend with me.

But I also want to bolt. If I’m to be grateful, I need to focus on my happiness. My happiness was with him, the way we were. Not the way we are. And it’ll never change. But I’ve made the determination to stay and make it work.