The Muse

Some time passed and I started going out with a friend of mine to this interfaith gathering.  One night she brought her boyfriend and another guy and we all were going to go dancing after the gathering.  

Originally I was supposed to have brought a friend of mine with me to hook up with the guy.  She couldn’t make it or something.  I don’t recall all the details.  

He walked through the door of the gathering and my eyes were instantly drawn to him.  Long dark red hair past his shoulders, a long braided beard, green eyes, glasses, a black leather Stetson.  He almost looked like a taller version of Rob Zombie.. but more handsome in the face.

I probably had drool coming out of the corners of my mouth.  He was very friendly.  Extremely extroverted.  He could strike up conversations with everyone.  I did not feel particularly special when he talked to me too.  I just chalked it up to him being the way he is.

Later that night at the club, he spent the entire time talking to me. He asked if I’d like to hang out at this diner afterwards. Normally I would have hesitated but since he was a friend of a friend, I felt safe.  We ended the night exchanging contact information and a hug followed by an awkward kiss.  I wasn’t sure if I kissed him or he kissed me but it seemed to surprise both of us.

The next day, I decided to message him and he promptly invited me over to meet his cats.  The next thing I know, we started discussing piercings and nipples... and that is the first time I had ever been introduced to all the terms such as “sub” and “Dom”.  He told me he was a switch.  He started asking me about things I’d like to do and we wound up having a really good time in his bedroom.

tbc

Years went by and I had dropped all contact with the lover.  I was trying.  I was doing everything I could do.  I was finding myself.  Husband never changed.   

The husband and I had purchased a very nice luxury townhouse.  The neighbors were great.  It was close to work.  The master bath had a soaking tub... or garden tub, as they call them.  The bathroom was a hideous salmon pink.  

Shortly before everything went completely south,  my husband and I painted the bathroom chartreuse.  Just one of my many favorite colors.  It’s great for colored pencils.... A bathroom... not so much.  I thought it looked fabulous with the olive green towels I bought. *shrugs*. Goblin fashion.

Anyway... I was taking a Reiki class. All three degrees.  I decided then I needed to get myself out of that house.  I needed to get my kids out too ... I didn’t know how but I needed to.  

I had a dream that I went on a date with Jesus and we were comparing our Birkenstocks.  He rode me around on his bike.  I told my husband about this dream and he got jealous. Of Jesus.

Time to go.

I allowed the kids to stay with him, while I moved out to stay with my sister.   I had come in contact with my lover once again.

I already wrote an entire blog about that painful ordeal.  My first heartbreak.  So I’m not going to rehash that mess.  I’m FOCusing on this husband thing.

Because he had my lover down as one of his key witnesses to a divorce with cause... He had me believing all kinds of things. He governed how and when I could see the kids.  

Everytime Id show up to the house for my visit, he would want to talk.  By talk, I mean he would want to berate me, cuss at me, manipulate me, try to get me to incriminate myself, try to get me to agree to have sex... and when I would try to get away, he would do things like bend my car key.  

One time I tried to call the police.  I ushered the kids to go out the basement door to the neighbors and my husband wrestled me to the floor, snatched the phone out of my hand, hit his own arm on the stair railing, and called the cops on me.  They threatened to arrest ME... when they showed up.

Finally... one day... the husband needed me to come watch the kids because he had to work an odd shift.  But he went off on me because I had been on a date with an old friend of mine and somehow he got word of it.  He spent a good 4 or 5 hours ... laying into me with words. In front of the kids.  I tried to take it outside so they wouldn’t hear and he wouldn’t stop.  Then he wouldn’t let me back in to care for them.  Then he struck me hard on my head and I hit the railing of the front stoop.  He walked off toward his car and said, “Don’t do anything stupid like run off to a shelter.”

That’s exactly what I did.  I grabbed the kids and ran.  Drained the money out of the joint account.... Got a protective order... He didn’t fight it.  I had peace. 

I am
The Desert Walking Girl
I wear a tiara of visions
Sometimes it digs heavy into my skin

I am
The silly dancing queen
I wear the eyes of a cat
Sometimes the music takes my soul

I am
A mother to the dying
I wear love on the outside
Sometimes I have many hands to hold

I am
A food giver
A people pleaser
A love dispenser (without end)
A biscuit maker
A pillow taker
A world builder
And destroyer
A kisser
A hugger
A clown

I am who
I am me.

I didn’t stop communicating with the guy once marriage counseling failed.  I had fallen in love with him.  

Any time I had attempted to express those feelings to my husband he belittled them and told me that I was nothing but a wet dream to the guy.  He was too young to really love me.  

I met with him once in my home while my husband was working night shift. I had secured him a job at the help desk at the company I worked for.  

He came to me after the kids were in bed and made love to me. It rained. For some reason it always rained when I saw him.  He left before dawn.  

Eventually everything caught up with me and I explained to my husband that I just could not let him go.  I received a hard slap across the face and I left for a few days.  

I bet you may be wondering why I just didn’t leave or divorce him.  If my brain thought it were that simple... I would have.  At that time, he had me convinced that he could put me in jail for adultery... take my babies from me... I’d lose my security clearance ... my job... my cats ... everything.

So I let my love go.  I became a shell.  Husband stayed angry.  He continued to punish me and had even more ammunition to do it... thanks to my choices.  

Eventually he started to take his anger out on my son... he was only 2. 

He didn’t hit him. He just would hold him by the shoulders and speak ragefully in that precious little face... simply because the boy was being hyper... or hit his older sister.  

I could take him being awful to me... but not my boy. A 2 year old.

tbc

”You are so sensual.” He murmured against my lips.  I could not stop kissing him... but it was time to say goodbye.  He stared fiercely at me and held the back of my neck firmly and breathed, “I have to see you again. Tell me me we can see each other again.”

I couldn’t say no.

We met again a few weeks later.  He rode around in my car with me while I took care of a few errands, all the while tormenting my ear with nips and kissing my neck.  His hands sinking between my legs.  I could barely drive.  

Finally he insisted we go somewhere. Anywhere. He’d pay for a room.  He became my lover.  We met a couple of times thereafter. 

Then the fateful day arrived that everything went to hell.  I couldn’t hide it  and my husband was on a plane to Virginia to “talk” things out with me the night after I had last seen the guy.

I could still smell him all over me.  That smell I had grown to love turned now to guilt and shame.  I had no time to wash.

I met my husband at the airport and immediately he approached me and ripped my wedding ring off my finger, with the diamond engagement ring, and threw it in the garbage can (I really felt I deserved that).  We went home. He also made me remove my nipple piercings I had because I had allowed another man to touch them.

I don’t remember everything that was said... other than how he made it clear he wasn’t exactly faithful to me while he was in Texas. I wasn’t entirely surprised.  He decided to “do me a favor” and work things out for the sake of the children.

We tried therapy.  That only seemed to make him more angry and he would twist what the therapist would say to benefit his plight.  He told me that the therapist told him in confidence that I was having psychotic episodes.  

I discontinued therapy with with my husband because I felt like I could not trust the therapist.  I started individual therapy for myself.  My husband had to know everything I talked about in therapy... he wanted to guide what I would say.  He wanted to make sure I got cured of my cheating behavior.

I honestly thought that was a character defect that I had.  He had me convinced I was a cheating whore. He had no part in this.

tbc

He was 8 years younger than me.  Insanely brilliant. Barely legal.  Did I take advantage of him or did he take advantage of me?  Who really knows? We were both pretty vulnerable. 

He had such a way with words.  He spun poems and erotica around my aching heart.  

————————————————-

After the the birth of my son, I received an honorable discharge from the Army and took my leave of Ft Hood... and my husband.  I had told him I was going to find employment back home so we could set up to live there.  My husband reluctantly allowed.  

In my mind, I thought I could break off from the marriage.  This could be my chance.  The husband had other ideas.

I was staying with my parents and had found a great job working as a repair technician with a government contractor.  During my spare time, I played Dungeons and Dragons online in a chat room with a bunch of other people. 

That’s where I met him. (That’s where I’ve met a lot of great guys, actually...it’s a bit of a pattern).

Our little characters became romantically involved... one thing led to another and we began sending stories to each other.  We started talking out of character and getting to know each other.  

His interest in me made me feel something I had not felt in a long time.  I felt desirable. Sexy. Worth while.  I felt valued and wanted.

We spoke on the phone. This was before cell phones... so I had to be careful.  His voice resonated through my body.  He used my full name instead of my shortened name.  I used his as well. There was just something so sensual about that.

We agreed to meet for the first time at a Renaissance Festival.  I forced my best friend to go with me.  Absolutely nothing happened and it was the most uncomfortable experience of my entire existence.  I rode an elephant and thought I had made a fool of myself until...

We talked a lot on AOL instant messenger... back when AOL was all the rage.  He shot me a message that night when I got home and said “When can I see you again?”

So we made plans.  I brought the kids to daycare and took the day off work.  I met him in the grocery store parking lot near my house.  He was dressed all in black. In a trench coat.  He stepped up to me and smiled. I was so nervous.  I had him drive us to the battlefield park so we could walk along one of the trails.

We talked... there were a few times it seemed like he almost would have kissed me.  One time it was like in a silly movie.. I had slipped on some ice and he caught me... we spent a few moments staring at each other.

After all that we sat in his parked car and he gave me a penny and said, “For your thoughts.”

I must have turned extremely red... but I turned and stared directly at his lips and said, “I was wondering what it would be like to kiss you.”

And that was it... that kiss did me in. I think I’ve talked about this kiss before but I’ve never been kissed like that ... ever... not before... not since. He whispered all kinds of things to me throughout that kiss... 

tbc

This part of my journey brings me to a rather tumultuous time in my life.  I had left behind the Land of the Morning Calm (Korea) and had confessed my affair to my first husband.  

We were on leave in Virginia.  At first he was willing to work things out with me.  I was wanting that.  Even though he had broken my trust emotionally with his EMT instructor and felt justified.  I laid everything out for him to walk all over.  

I had also discovered I was pregnant.  I had used protection with the other guy so the likelihood of it being his was slim.  That did not make a difference to my husband.  Even though he proclaimed it didn’t matter... it was always brought up in every argument.  

We moved on to Ft. Hood, Texas.  My pregnancy was clouded with sickness, emotional abuse, and a lot of alienation.  He would go out all the time.  I thought he’d be going to the arcade... but as it turned out he was having his own affair.  I never knew until after we divorced but all that time he spent punishing me and making me feel like a worthless piece of shit while I stayed at home carrying his daughter, he was out fucking another woman.  

When we would argue... my words meant nothing.  I had no say.  I was Hester Prynne from The Scarlet Letter.  No penance was enough.  The entire ten years we were married. 

Now... I did not make things any easier on myself, by any stretch of the imagination.  Which I’ll explain in a moment.

This man I was married to... would get drunk and start berating me... without provocation.  He’d wildly wave a loaded gun around while yelling how much of a whore I was and he would work himself up into such a frenzy... he’d punch holes in the walls.

He never hit me at this point. Not physically... but I was so scared of him. I was unwanted. Cursed. Unloved. Unforgiven. Unsexy. I was nothing. I had no voice and no rights.  I was beneath everyone.  He carried a picture of his ex girlfriend in his wallet that he’d show to people and say, “This is what I gave up ... for her.”

He thought he was paying me a compliment.

Eventually... I dealt with my depression in the worst possible way.  I had another affair.

tbc

I posted this a while ago... as some of you are aware of what Martin Gore does to me when he sings... This is my favorite off their newer album.

Eternal by Depeche Mode

Oh little one
I will protect you
And surround you with my love
As well as any man can
As well as any man could
I will be there for you
Always
And when the black cloud rises
And the radiation falls
I will look you in the eye
And kiss you
And give you all my love
As well as any man can
As well as any man could
You are my eternal
Eternal love

Some may call the beast fragile

I say anything, but

In my dreams

It lay

Resting its velvet muzzle

Upon my knees

Intangible

Weightless

Not even there

Revealing myself

My heart

Unable to hide

Unable to breathe

Unable to reach

Fuckusing:

definition- verb. Focusing on fucking.

Fuckusing is important while writing erotica.

The Dom paddled the sub relentlessly for not fuckusing enough.