Wow. So much has changed since my last entry. I doubt anyone still reads this blog. But that is OK with me. This blog is for my benefit anyway.
If anyone one should be reading, I suppose I should get you up-to-date. But describing everything that happened would be a War and Peace size post. So I will keep it short and simple.
I ended both my marriage and my affair. Best decision ever. All that drama behind me. Or so I thought.
I re-married to a nice and normal man. What a relief! He has two teenagers from a previous marriage and I brought in my three kids. Then soon after we got married I had another baby. So he have 6 in the household. Sort of a modern day Brady Bunch minus the wild 60s clothes.
The baby was not exactly planned. We had five kids between us, so it was not like we suddenly had the idea- Hey, let’s add one more!It was an accident. If you call forgetting to buy a condom an accident. I personally call it poor planning. But we were in the heat of the moment and hubby promised he would pull out in time. Yeah. As I felt the semen drip down my leg, I remember thinking to myself that it would be OK. I was in my mid 30s, what are the chances of getting pregnant from a one time thing? Rhetorical question. For me it is 100%.
So I now have four biological children and two step kids. And the four kids have three different father. Or I guess they are now called “baby daddys”. Two from my first marriage, one from my affair and the last from my current husband. That is one thing I am good at - getting pregnant.
I know I sound like a total slut. But I have only had sex with three men. Basically, if a penis gets in me, I am getting pregnant.
But enough about the past. Why did I stop blogging? Because I ended my affair and found a new husband. Life was good with no major issues. No bad marriage. No guilt and secrecy of an affair. Just frequent sex with my husband. A normal life.At least I assume that is how it is.
So I was happy and content. Naturally drama would return. It always does.
40 years old
I turned 40 last year. A 40 year old woman with four kids. Yeah…let’s be honest, game over.
I don’t want to brag. On second thought, why not? This is my blog. I used to be cute. I mean really cute. Men would look at me. I had a small waist and nice breasts. Such a combination works wonders around men. But there was one catch - I was very religious. No sex until marriage. Then I got married and still did not have much sex. My cuteness was wasted. I know, a very sad story. Try to limit your tears.
Now I still look OK, for a 40 year old woman. And there is that damn qualifier - “for a 40 year old woman.” Despite having four kids, I have kept my weight off. Well, sort of. I would still like to lose 10 pounds. And I don’t look horrible, just older. And older sucks. I try to fight it with hair dye, exercise and makeup. But it is eventually a losing battle.
So I was due for a mid life crises. But unlike most people I can tell you the hour it started. My midlife crises started on a Friday night at 8:00 P.M. with a cheesecake in front of me.. It was my birthday cheesecake with one candle. (40 candles would have been a fire hazard). After the waitress placed the plate down she asked my husband if he wants anything He said no.
That is what happened in reality. But here is what my eyes saw:
The 21 year old whore of a waitress plops down my cheesecake in front of me. She gives me a patronizing smile and ignores me. I probably remind her of her mother. She turns to my husband and slightly thrusts her firms tits up. She is presenting her young body to him. As if to say, why be with this old hag when you can have this? Her facial expression changes from cold to coy when she looks at my husband. Before she speaks she actually licks her lips. Fucking slut. She asks him if he wants anything. My husband face brightens. He face is friendly but his eyes are hungry.
A quick disclaimer, I love my husband dearly. He is an attractive man who is loving and a great father. I am lucky to have him.
Another disclaimer - I frequently get hormonal and crazy. Especially when I have been drinking.
Yeah, I know my reaction was irrational. Nothing happened. But in my mind my husband cheated. I could only see images of them in my brain having sex. I was miserable that night.I refused to speak to him and I refused to eat my cheesecake. I was hurt and I wanted to have a tantrum on my birthday. It is my birthday and I will cry if I want to.
In the car my husband asked me what was wrong. I told him that I was hurt that he would leer at that waitress on my birthday. And it was obvious he found her pretty and wanted to fuck her.
Now his response was a classic example of how husband version 2.0 is different than the 1.0 version. My ex husband would have objected and denied any such thoughts. My new husband said, “Yeah I do find her cute. And I would like to fuck her. But I am married to you so I just fuck you.”
His honest was hurtful so I burst out crying. But somewhere down deep inside me I respected his answer.
We had a hotel booked for the evening so we could get away from the kids. But I told him I no longer wanted to go and we should just head home. My husband said he paid for the room and he was going there. And I was free to catch a cab to take me home.
So we get to the hotel room. I was still mad and drunk. I told him that I would stay but he could forget about sex. He could call that waitress if he wanted to fuck someone. But I was not available.
He told me that I was his wife and he would have me, with or without my approval.
I told him to fuck off, My body was mine. And I did not have to give him sex just because we were married. And what was he going to do, rape me?
He said yes. He would rape me. And I was free to call the police later if I wished. Be he would have me.
Damn. He called my bluff. He knew I loved him and would never do that. But I also knew this was an important issue. My body was MINE. That was not up for debate.
I stood looking up at him in defiance. I was angry. We stared at each other for what seem like eternity, but it was probably for for few seconds. Then he reached out and grabbed my dress at the shoulder and ripped it. I could hear it tear. It was a new dress. It cost me $600. Fucking asshole.
I remember throwing punched at him. I had never hit someone in my life. But I was wildly throwing punches at him. I was crazed. He easily avoided my swings and casually threw me on the bed face down like I was a little girl. I had no idea how much stronger he was than me. I was pinned.
He held me for a few minutes as I struggled. Then I gave up. What could I do? He was much stronger than me.
He mounted on top of me. I knew he would have me doggy style. And my stupid body betrayed me. I was ready for him. And I felt him. And then it was…
“Ummm.. sweetie? I think you must have also had too much to drink. Wrong hole.”
Hmmm.. yeah. There have been a few things I never wanted to experience in life. Things like being bit by a rattlesnake, contracting malaria or have anal sex. The idea has always seemed gross to me. Something best left for gay men.
My first husband was never sexually adventurous, so it was not an issue. And, Mark, the man I had an affair with was the size of a horse. I had troubles getting him in my vagina. So again, it was not an issue. But it looked like my luck ran out.
I actually went through the five stages of grief in about 10 minutes:
Denial: He won’t really sick up up there
Anger: I hate him. Why is he doing this to me?
Bargaining: Sweetie, I will give you a blow job every day if we can just skip this.
Depression: Why does my life suck?
Acceptance: Can you at least go to the drugstore and get some lubricant? Please?
To my surprise he agreed. He got dressed and went to the drugstore. This game me time to shower and drink more wine. I figured the more wine the better. I laid naked on the bed face down and I passed out.
I woke up with him on top of me. I relaxed and it slid it. It was the most sexually arousing thing I ever experienced. Umm,,, no. It was very painful. I learned that biting the pillow is not just a figure of speech.
But a strange thing happened. The pain of the anal sex seemed to push out the pain of being 40 and that stupid waitress. I felt a release. As if I no longer owned my body and it was now my husbands. For his pleasure.
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