I leaned over the edge of my bed and put his significantly left curving dick in my mouth. I played around with it for a bit, but I still was not feeling it. He was abrasive, nervy. I sucked it up, and down and around for a short while before retiring and laying down on the bed, curious to see if there was any pleasure he could offer.
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The video was of his hairy chest, dick, and upper thighs, zoomed in on this girl’s ass/asshole that was reverse cowgirl on him. I continued watching as she leaned forward, I could see her ass and lips tightly bouncing up and down in his dick.
Read More...This is a raw journal entry from my time with the Blue Sky…
October 26
I feel more confidant and comfortable about where we are. I think back to two weeks ago and feel like I was such a nutcase fueled by all my own insecurities. But he came to homecoming with me this past weekend, and then came over Monday and stayed over. When I look in his eyes, he melts my heart. I have become much more confident in being myself around him. I have become more comfortable telling him things about how I feel – oh this feels, you feel good – to complimenting him – I have never felt more sexually connected to someone before, and you sell yourself short, you are amazing. He says absolutely nothing when I say these things to him – complete and utter silence. It used to feel empty, but I don’t feel that way anymore. And I think that is because I am feeling more confident in myself and do not seek validating from him. He doesn’t need to say anything back to me right now, not until he is ready. I can feel our energy continuing to shift. Before, I would feel uncomfortable and giddy looking in his eye…and now, in the morning, after our overnight, I catch him looking at me and when I look back, he turns away like a little kid with a crush.
…a continuation after the morning…
Today is the perfect rainy day. It’s crazy to think that a year ago, I was in the darkest place in my life, where today I’m on cloud 9. I was up till 2AM having the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had in my life. The connection I have with my new beau is indescribable. It’s like Carrie and Big, or Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele. I never really knew that a sexual connection like this could exist; it’s like you can’t believe something like this ever existed until you experience it. He’s my own personal version of heroin…I would go without eating, sleeping, drinking…just to feel him inside of me.
We were up until 2am last night having sex…from the bedroom, to the shower, to the bedroom, back to the shower, back to the bedroom. Then we took a brief rest, only to go again before agreeing to fall asleep. Around 5AM, he woke me up by rubbing his hands up and down my body, stopping and gently waking up my vagina. We started on our right side when he slowly pushed inside of me, and we continued to me on top, to him on top, to me face down. As he increased his breath and his speed, I knew he was about to climax. He pulled out and finished on my butt. The second he pulled out, it felt like something was missing from me; I wanted him back inside of me.
We cleaned up and tried to go back to sleep. As incredibly exhausted as I was, I fought between sleep and awake. I needed sleep, but I yearned for him more. Around 8AM, I could feel the wind pick up from the window in my bedroom, the rain began to come down, and we were ready for another round. He climbed on top, looked me deep in my eyes – I could feel our souls touching (is that even possible?) – and entered me again. Every which way, every position…our bodies danced together.
I made some breakfast and we spent the morning in bed. The rain began to stop and it looked like the weather may turn around. He had planned to leave to catch a train home at 11:30 and put his pants on. But I had to have him again, one more time. As he lay in my bed on his stomach, I began to kiss his back kissing lower onto his butt. I sunk my teeth in slightly and smiled on the inside as I felt his body clench up. I kissed him more and more, using my tongue to trace the area I had just bitten. I began to pull his pants down lower, and he turned over on his back. He was semi-erect. I pulled his boxers down enough so that his penis was exposed and I put it in my mouth. I began to bounce up and down and could feel him getting more and more aroused. I knew he wouldn’t let me have this much control for much longer, he grabbed my hair and pulled me back so I was now laying on top of him…
I soon learned that he was single and definitely ready to mingle. He loved to fuck, just like me, and my friend would be happy to set things up between us; he actually thought we would make a good match.
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He shared with my that him and his wife were not having sex and hadn’t been in a while. He told me over and over how beautiful I was (after sharing photos with him), and he was eager to meet me. We scheduled a night when we would meet at a restaurant about an hour from where I live. In that moment of scheduling it all, it seemed exciting and anticipatory. I mean after all, I recall what it was like to be in a sexless marriage.
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I continued to look for young guys that I knew I would never have to worry about developing feelings for. I kept chasing that high, that rush. But it was slowly beginning to fade with each conquest. I needed more, like a junkie. I swiped right on this younger guy that played baseball at a college nearby. I couldn’t tell much from his pictures other than he seemed cute. We matched online, exchanged snapchats, and began chatting.
I would invite him over once in a while, but he never came over and didn’t really seem about it. In the moment, that was fine by me because I was getting my next fix from whoever else was coming along. Then he started to invite me to hang out, and I would blow him off. Eventually, I decided to give in and just go with it. What’s the worst it could be?
He showed up shortly after I had gotten home from being out and about. It was dark, and he had just come from his off-campus apartment. I was cleaning up in the kitchen when he knocked on the door. I yelled for him to come in. As the door opened, I looked up to see what he looked like. He was short…much shorter than he pretended to be in those photographs on Bumble. I would guess he was probably 5’5/5’6 (and the baseball roster lists him at 5’10). So that was strike one. Read More
Blowjobs-some of us love to give them, most men love to receive them. Traditionally, blowjobs were not my cup of tea. That thinking dated back to high school where I would hear young men talk about “getting head” and degrading the women that performed the act for them by calling them a “chicken head”. I still will never understand why those guys would practically beg girls for a blowjob, and once they got it, they would talk massive shit about her (bragging to friends, calling her a hoe, telling everyone and anyone that will listen what she did). And then other women would label her as a slut. It just sounded awful. Read More
We got into bed and continued kissing. At some point, he stopped and looked at me and asked me the best question I have ever been asked, “Can I go down on you?”
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But, why do two of the three phases have the word “honeymoon” in them? This whole idea of a honeymoon and post honeymoon phases is absolutely absurd to me. To understand, let’s take a deeper look at what happens in the honeymoon phase and why it creates a post-honeymoon phase…because honestly, it would be easier if we could just start with commitment and pass through all of this honeymoon bullshit.
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He began to cuddle me from behind. I didn’t want to like the feeling, because it felt so safe and good, like we had done it a hundred times before. I allowed myself to feel it for a few seconds, knowing this wasn’t anything real, but for some reason it reminded me of what love is supposed to feel like. It sure was a nice reminder.
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I’ve heard stories about condoms falling off during sex and getting thrusted deeper into your vagina, but it had never happened to me. I was with a man that had a pretty small penis, one of the smaller ones I’ve ever seen.
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It is an incredibly empowering time for women. We can be open and honest about sex, relationships, and what we want out of life. Acceptance has become the foundation of this new era. And women don’t really need men at all anymore…unless it’s worth their while.
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After sleeping with the Captain, I couldn’t get him out of my head. I had a legit high from sleeping with him for five days – yes, five whole days before it eventually tapered off. I felt more relaxed, happier, and somewhat euphoric. My mind would flashback to moments from that night: him going down on me, to the way his tongue ring felt against my clitoris, to how he fucked me from behind, to how he dominated my body. At night before bed, I would masturbate to those visuals and relive the experiences, getting high all over again. It was my favorite way to fall asleep.
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I had two very different experiences post my sex deprived marriage, both on completely opposite sides of the spectrum. My body now began to feel more alive and I felt things that I forgot I could ever feel, both physically and mentally. My libido increased significantly, and I found myself masturbating daily (and usually multiple times in one sitting). As I continued to redefine and rediscover my need for sex, I wanted to understand more about how an orgasm effects the human body and decided to document my own personal experience of having an orgasm for 30 days consecutively.
Before I jump into my experience, it is important to understand what happens scientifically when you climax. An orgasm creates both physical and mental sensations and reactions in our body. Our heart rate and blood pressure increases, our breathing patterns change, and (for women) our vagina contracts. During orgasm, our brains are flooded with dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin. In laments terms, orgasms pretty much get you high. They relieve stress, take away pain, make you happier, and according to some can even make your skin glow. They help you feel more sexually aware and connected.
So I set off on my challenge, 30 days of orgasms. Here was what I experienced:
After Goldilocks, I began to crave the attention and the high I got from men. My libido was kickstarted and I needed my next fix. As next few weeks went on, I jumped on Bumble (the dating app) and began drunk swiping. I remember sitting at the bar with my friend, and we were on our fourth drink when I matched with The Captain. He appeared to be a younger (but older than Goldilocks) rugby player with a man bun that caught my attention. I wasn’t sure if I was particularly attracted to his face, but I was definitely attracted to his body, and the fact that his profile photos were of him dominating on the field in uniform. He looked like he knew how to take control and that’s exactly what I was looking for.
We began messaging back and forth while I sat at the bar that night. He quickly mentioned he was strictly looking for a hookup, and I eagerly confirmed. He took charge in the conversation and told me he wanted to meet later that week. As the days went on we continued chatting on bumble, texting, and snapchatting (snapchatting is always good because it allows you to know if the person is real and what they really look like aside from the photos they post online.) He invited me over to the rugby house (a house where multiple 18-24-year-old rugby players live) that Friday night and aside from the fact that I didn’t want to walk in on a college party (as someone who graduated college 10 years ago), I was completely exhausted and decided not to go. I was a little embarrassed that I couldn’t hold up my end of the bargain, after all this was what I wanted…right?! I suggested we could meet the following night. He was disappointed but polite about it and assured me he would be ready for Saturday.
That night I went out and had a few drinks with my girlfriends. He picked me up from the bar once we decided to call it a night. I walked up to his old red pickup truck and opened the door. It smelled like mix between an old sandwich that had been sitting in his car for the past two days and a dirty gym bag. I looked in and said hello. He turned and smiled at me. He was wearing jeans and a grey fitted zip up that was just tight enough for his muscular arms to show through. His man bun looked extra messy. He said what’s up…and back to my house we went. Once we got there, things were slightly awkward. We talked in the kitchen for a little bit to feel each other out. For some reason, we were trying to find things we may have in common with each other when the fact of the matter was, there was nothing that we had in common other than a physical attraction. We would soon realize that, and to let him know I wanted to move things forward with him, I said “Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping tonight”.
I walked him into my bedroom and we both got in bed. I turned on the TV because I wanted to find an easy way to avoid having to make the first move, I wanted him to take control, just like I saw in the photos. I turned on something from the DVR, and then again there was that awkward silence. I would glance over and him, he would glance back, and then I would turn away. I was unsure, uneasy, and anxious. I wasn’t sure how this was all going to go down.
This continued for ten long minutes until he finally made his move. As we were both laying down in my bed, he sat up and leaned over on top of me to begin kissing me. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach begin to fly in circles over and over as fast as they could, as if they were on speed. His lips tasted rough but smooth, and very sensual. I could smell the odor from his truck on his body and clothes. As we continued kissing more intensely, our tongues danced deeper and I was reminded that he had a tongue ring (it had been a while since I’ve seen or felt one of those). He pulled away from my lips and grabbed me at my waist to pull me on top of him. He pulled my shirt up over my head, unhooked my bra and threw it on the floor. He immediately sat up and grabbed my breasts and began to caress them, kissing them with his mouth. He moved his tongue in a circular motion which made my nipples hard. He was taking full control and I was getting more and more aroused. This was exactly what I wanted, what I needed, what I yearned for…and what had been missing for so long from my life. As I got more aroused, my crazed coked out butterflies stopped flying around in my stomach and I started to feel more relaxed. This all felt normal to me; I felt more in my comfort zone.
I decided to take the next step and grabbed his fitted zip-up and lifted it up over his head. He knew I wanted him…he flipped me back over onto my back, so he could be on top. His energy was a cocky-confident and he clearly wanted to be back in control. He began kissing me from my neck, and then down to my breasts ensuring my nipples were hard. He moved his lips lower down my stomach until he reached the top of my pants. He hastily unbuttoned my them, unzipped them, took them off simultaneously with my underwear, and threw them on the floor. He grabbed my ankles to pull me down closer to him. I knew what was about to happen, I was so excited. It was as if things started to move in slow motion. I watched as he began to bend his face down lower towards my pelvis. He was looked straight down at my vagina and didn’t look back up. He got closer and closer…and then he stuck his tongue deep inside of me. I could feel his tongue ring go back and forth, in and out…. over and over. I could feel the metal, it felt cool, the friction was intense. He went slower, then faster. I couldn’t control myself and began to moan. I couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop, this couldn’t stop. It was so good, it was too good, it was amazing. He continued to go to town on my vagina, sticking his tongue back and forth inside of me and with each tongue thrust I felt higher and higher.
I remember thinking, if he’s this good at this, I wonder how great he is at sex? I needed to experience all that he had to offer. I told him I wanted him inside of me, and he did one last deep tongue thrust that ended with when he pulled his tongue back out and slowly upward against my clitoris. My legs jolted, and my heart was racing. I couldn’t control it and it made me laugh. I hadn’t felt pleasure like this in so long (over a year) and forgot how great it could feel.
He sat up at the edge of the bed, in between my legs. Before I let him enter me, I wanted to return the favor. It seemed only appropriate after the head he’d just given me. I sat up and began to undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and then he immediately took them off. As he went to throw them on the floor, I grabbed his penis with my right hand and put it in my mouth. His penis was beautiful, a perfect pink circumcised rod of flesh. It was such a great size, slightly bigger than normal, and the girth was ideal. His dick was perfect and it felt perfect in my mouth. I immediately tasted his precum which was a surprise and excited me to know that I had already turned him on so much. As I held his penis in my hand I bobbed up and down, sucking hard, moving my tongue around in circles. I began to twist my hand in a circular motion along with the bobbing and could feel him getting harder and harder. His dick began to throb as I went deeper and deeper. He then said, “Ugh I want to be inside you so bad right now” and that was my cue to stop.
The silence and awkwardness from before was gone. We weren’t speaking…but we were speaking the same language. Our bodies were moving in sync.
I asked him for a condom – of which he didn’t have. This part was super confusing because he knew he was coming over to have sex. Why wouldn’t he have a condom? Luckily, I was able to find one in the nightstand (It was from my bachelorette party from before I got married and surprisingly hadn’t expired.). Before I could even hand it to him, he grabbed it out of my hand and put it on. He came up beside me and put his arms under my armpits and pushed/threw me back on the bed. As my body hit the sheets I smiled. He grinned back at me. He climbed on top of me and I opened my legs, ready for what was about to come next. His face brushed next to mine and I grabbed his hair in my hands. I breathed all of him in at that moment as he slowly entered me. I felt so full, so aroused, so physically connected to this person. He thrust back and forth over and over bringing me higher and higher-both physically and mentally. Our rhythms were in sync, our bodies pushed and pulled together. He began to move faster. I grabbed his back and squeezed it, I rubbed my hands up and down his body. He felt like warm steel – his body was solid. He went back and forth like a perfect machine made for my pleasure. Everything about this was hot, and I continued to get high.
Eventually, he leaned in and kissed me, and I felt the spark again. It felt like electricity running through my body, down my legs and out of my feet, and out of my arms and fingers. I had that butterflies in your stomach feeling, and I knew I was about to have sex for the first time in over a year, the first time since my divorce.
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Sex helped me get my confidence back and helped me to heal.
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“I had to go through the darkness to find a new appreciation for the light.”
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I awake to the sound of my alarm. It’s 8AM and the sun shining through my bedroom windows on this beautiful summer day. I slowly open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, feeling surprisingly calm. Somehow, I got a decent nights’ sleep, all the while knowing that today I will go court at 9:30AM to finalize my divorce from my (ex) husband.
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After everything that I had gone through up until this point, the shock of it all began to subside and denial crept in. I was in denial about what was happening, and somehow thought we still had a shot even though he moved out and we officially filed divorce paperwork. Although a divorce day was set, after a few months of distance and couples counseling, we decided to try to give it a final try. He continued to struggle with being the man he wanted to be, the man he told me he was, versus who he really was and his expectations of me. We began to “date” again. Unfortunately, it was all half-assed on his part and it felt like we were both were just going through the motions. We were both unhappy and it was palpable.
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As I rewrote many of these posts about the emotional abuse I was subject to, I judged myself pretty harshly. I felt like I sound pathetic, like a loser. I wondered that if I thought it, that you may have thought it, too. As a result, I felt it was important to shine some further light on my situation and the topic of emotional abuse.
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At this point in time, we were about three years into our marriage and a little over a year from when we would actually divorce. We would travel often, using vacations and traveling as a way to avoid dealing with our issues. When we were away from everyone, I was isolated and he had more control over me. In the same way, I felt more at ease because when he was in control, he was calmer. And when he was calmer, I had less anxiety. Each part fed off of each other; it was a vicious cycle we were spinning in.
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“All of the clarity I thought I gained yesterday became clouded. In that moment, I again became submissive and he regained all of the control.”
Picking up where the last post left off, I woke up that morning in my friend’s guest bedroom. The rays of the sun shined through the windows lighting up the entire room. I could still smell the bonfire on my hair and clothes from the night before.
“What the fuck is wrong with you! She’s a fucking dike!” he said about my good friend, the friend whose phone I was using, the friend who is married to one of his very good friends who have three kids together. He then suggested that I must want to fool around with her if I was going to sleep over…
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“Then, I hear my tiny 104-pound younger sister say “Don’t you fucking put your hands on me.” I stopped in the middle of peeing, stood up with my underwear around my ankles, and as I walked out the bathroom door, he passed me shouting at me “I’m not dealing with this shit, fuck you for choosing her over me, you bitch” and slammed the hotel room door in my face.”
My sister is one of my best friends. During the time my (ex) husband and I were dating, the two of them became close. She was in our wedding, helped us tremendously through the planning process, and was very supportive of us as a couple. For her birthday, the three of us went on a trip to Mallorca, Spain.
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My ex-husband was and is ruled by anger. And in time, and through therapy, I learned that anger is a reaction to a feeling. That means that he could have been feeling frustrated, hurt, scared, disappointed, etc. and instead of acknowledging that feeling, he would react in a fit of anger. It is also very important to him that he always be right (stemming from his low self-esteem). And when I challenged his thinking, he would get angry and we would usually get into a fight. Now let me be clear, it’s not like we were debating philosophical ideals, politics, or religion where we could seemingly get into a heated debate. Our arguments would be over what actor starred in a certain movie, or what time a doctor’s appointment was the next morning, or something just as stupid. Trivial nonsense.
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I have received feedback from some of my subscribers that are curious to learn more about my divorce. I figure that before I get to sex after divorce, I would use some of the next posts to give you all a deeper understanding of how and why I got divorced. For me, it is an extremely scary and hard place to go back to and write about. But, it seems that many of you feel connected to my experiences that I have shared so far, and keeping that connection going is most important to me. So here goes…
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After being in what I deem to be a sex deprived marriage, I lost so much of myself. I forgot what it was like to be me. And I didn’t allow myself to be who I actually was for so long because if I did, I knew our marriage would fall apart. I put my ex-husband above all of my physical needs; so much of who I was became suppressed and lost.
After not having sex in over a year, I had become numb to everything and anything sexual. The high or rush that I used to get from male attention no longer existed. It was as if I had been trained or trained myself to no longer gravitate towards those feelings or that attention. So, here is the story of how one kiss awoke Pandora’s box:
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When my (ex) husband and I got married, it happened very quickly. There were extenuating circumstances and once I accepted his proposal, we had to get married within a two-month time frame. Presumably, we didn’t have a traditional honeymoon, so seven months after our marriage, we actually went on what I considered to be our real honeymoon and ventured to the magical island of Santorini in Greece.
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“I had to learn how to suppress my sexuality in order to stay in my marriage.”
My marriage was great initially…but I should have left after six months into it. I stayed another three years because I believed that people generally are good and want to better themselves. I believed that we both could be better, better for each other. I believed that we both took our vows seriously and that we both would put in the effort to make things work. Of course, I now know and have learned the hard way that this is not true. Just because I wanted to work at things, doesn’t mean that my (ex) husband wanted to.
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sexafterdivorce.com 