The things I would do for you

Comments from the wife:

Why would you want to do the work with someone defiant when you can be with —– who worships the ground you walk on?

What are you going to do with that iCamera, have video sex with your girlfriend?

I guess she’s not as fucking advanced as you insisted she was. Quite a change from the puzzlingly polyamourous “she seems sweet, I’d like to meet her” attitude she displayed months ago when she thought she had the power. Strange how that now that its over and you are exploring seperate real estate does she get viciously terriorial over you. What’s the point? She’s the one who said that if you hadn’t instigated the divorce, that she would have within months. She’s the one who brought someone else into your bed first. She’s the one who cut you off physically and attacked your self worth (I know you are not without fault in this debacle).

And what does she know about our dynamic? Does she know that I have a mind of my own, a stable sense of self, direction, accomplishments and a future? Does she understand that I am not a doormat, a person who absorbs the accomplishments and status of the other to feel valuable?That you are the one with abandonment anxiety? That you know that I have the freedom to choose while you are bound by obligations that I have no reason to take on if I don’t want to? If this love is a game and the winner is the one who will leave first, then I’m in the lead.

Become autonomous, woman, and get through this adolescent stage of defiance quickly. You are thirty four years old. While I understand the conflict you must have felt as a 21 year old fresh out of college without direction and feeling unsafe, presented with the opportunity to either be taken care of by successful pop star, or forging a path of your own (I may have made the same decision, but I doubt it), it’s time for you to step out of your coddled life and forge one for yourself. If you are as bright and capable as he says you are, then do it. What is holding you back? You can’t keep using your childhood as an excuse for your behavior now. At some point you have to take responsibility for the direction of your life. You will feel so much better about yourself when you actually accomplish something on your own. It will give you strength, so you won’t have to bite the hand that feeds you.  

Darling, the best way to get me on top is to ply me with room service and a deep cabernet. Then I will be loose enough to climb up on you, with my breasts in your mouth, and rock back and forth, alternately sliding you in and out, then grinding my hips against yours, clit against pubic bone, until you take hold and thrust into me from below.

This place was nice, but the beds are softer elsewhere, and you are spending too much money.

I miss you already. What are we going to do about Fall?

He writes- 119 minutes, that must be a record, and processing our own stuff, and not my marriage.

 I really don’t think so, we’ve talked on the phone longer than that. And yes, its a relief that I don’t have to participate in rehashing all of the evils that transpired in the demise of your relationship with your wife. And I don’t really think its productive to formalize what I wanted to present as an exploration of partially formed ideas, you react so seriously to it all, then set up a comparison between me and your wife’s behavior (who you characterize as dishonest and full of double standards).

I’m trying to be as honest with you as I can. There are some things you don’t have to know. Others I will share when the time is right, and when it concerns you or us. Nothing is really horrible, I don’t think. But still, I don’t want you to leave, I don’t want to drive you away. You say be honest, even with the worst stuff, and if the relationship is strong enough we will prevail and become stronger through the process. Okay. That sounds right. But I’m still guarding some things. You will learn my weaknesses soon enough. No need to scare you yet. We have just gotten started. And even though you hate it when I say this- I’m not ready for this to be over, not yet.

Today my breasts are covered in red welts and what looks like the beginning of bruising. The red is from the slapping and the sucking, and the bruises from the grabbing and the pulling. He said that my breasts looked fuller than usual. In fact, they were bigger, still swollen from my period, which is just tapering off. He couldn’t keep his hands off of them.

After the first round of so-good-to-see-you-again fucking we went to a Thai restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard. Convinced I was done bleeding, and hot from the sex and the sweltering humidity, I zipped on a light sundress without panties or bra. He sat in the chair next to me, slid his hand under my ass and whispered, I won’t ask you to hitch up your dress right now, even though we are in the corner. I slung my leg over his and let him stroke the inside of my thigh and calf as we looked over the menu. It took forever to order, we were so distracted. I’m sure we made a specatacle of ourselves in that corner. The constant kissing and fondling of the almost bare breasts. The Elvis impersonator was not enough of a distraction to draw away the eyes of the pretty brunette who kept looking over at us and laughing to her friends. I don’t care. LA is big enough so that I will never have to see the same people twice if I don’t want to.

Last night he thought he was pushing the boundaries of what I could take with the manipulation of my tits. We has previously tried spring-loaded nipple clamps that caused quite a bit of pain while on, and even more when taken off. They were far too intense for me, and were difficult to open to completely surround my nipple. Instead, last night he bit and pulled and squeezed, and was surprised at what I was able to take. It hurt so badly, but I was soaking wet, and always asked for more. He doesn’t want to hurt me but he wants to please me so he did it. It turned him on too, his cock doesn’t lie.

And today, my breasts are sore, and covered in welts, and aching to be touched again. Tomorrow the memory of his hands and mouth on me will be more pronounced as the bruising blooms. My nipples are tender and red and sensitive to the lace on my bra. Sunday I’ll see him again, hopefully my ass will be ready for him. We still need to work on that.

Sometimes all it takes is one good tug on my nipple to make me come. Even after I have been manipulating the vibrator over my clit for what seems like too long. All it takes is a soft caress, a firm squeeze, and then a hard pull. And it’s done.

Having problems with fulfilling anal sex role with him. His cock is just so much bigger than what I am used to, and while the desire is there, a deep hunger, really, to feel his cock buried to the hilt in my ass, I am resisting. Surrendering myself to him is key, but even with my concerted effort to relax and let him penetrate me, I am still not there yet. Mass amounts of lube, finger penetration, a few sharp blows to the ass, ball gag, and patient coaxing all help to bring me closer to the goal. I think the key may be to open me up first with graduated butt plug, then press on with the cock. We’ll see what happens tomorrow. It doesn’t help that he tells me that the Thai girls in Berlin took it easily, and not just the penetration but the pounding as well.

The double penetration with the butt plug in my ass and his cock in my pussy could possibly be some of the best sex I have had. Complete turn on being filled like that, knowing he has control of both, feeling my face pressed into the pillow, my tits brushing against the bedsheets, and that I am exposed and vulnerable and aching for more of his heavy handed slaps. I know he wants it to be the other way around, with his cock in my ass, the dildo in my pussy, and my fingers on my clit. He tells me that when I look over my shoulder and tell him to fuck me, he comes immediately. I love him.

He is eighteen years older than me. He just got another movie. He will be gone all Fall.