There are so many things to do with a hard dick, and so many things to do without a hard dick. There were a few weeks when my spouse’s dick wasn’t always hard when expected. That was no problem. But first we were surprised; I think it was related to a medication. We realized that
“I was thinking I might masturbate,” I told my spouse. We were in bed. I’ve been stressed, anxious, and angry beyond what I can endure. Flooding myself with pleasure is a way to care for myself, to push the suffering out. “Hmm, I like it when you masturbate,” he said. “Yeah!” I said. “It’s a
“I need to write,” I told my spouse. “I have some smut inside me, and I need to share it. Not corn smut–not immoral smut. Good clean smut.” I want to write about what I fantasize about lately. love sex crushes Lately I don’t have a crush on anyone. I’m in love with my spouse.
I was telling my spouse about someone I know–a friend I’m not close to, more of an acquaintance–who has a daddy. My friend’s daddy is a nonbinary person, I think. It blew me away to learn more about the daddy dynamic. I thought I couldn’t be a daddy–I thought since I’m mostly a cis lady,
I wrote this poem “sapphire” about choosing to live by making a promise about what to prioritize, saying no to love that would destroy me. I choose to survive. sapphire I got your message that you’re sober and back in Ohio with your family. I wanted to be your family. You lied to me. You
My spouse washed some fruit for me and put it in a bowl. Raspberries, blackberries, and strawberries, fresh from the farmers market. Yum! But it was too much. I ate them in order of how much I like them, saving the best for last. First I ate all the blackberries, dark and plump. Then the
“Will you go down on me?” I asked my spouse. We were cuddly in bed, and I wanted his tongue on my clit, that special feeling. It was an unusual ask. For a long time, I didn’t want him (or anyone) to go down on me at all. “Yes,” he said. “Not for a whole