I have received a parcel this week.
A few of you may remember that back in December I entered the 'Christmas Dickoration' competition here on the forum.
I was impressed by the entries and it made me so wish I had a 'dick' of my own to decorate! So for a bit of fun and to make the point that I was missing out here with the absence of a willing 'dick', I decorated the only one I have access to these days, my super-shiny-purple dildo
Much to my amazement I won! And this week my parcel has winged its way to me and I am now in possession of a wonderful chastity belt!!
Oh how it has made me wish for my playmate. All the games we played with chastity, the home-made devices, the mackled-together strappings and now I have this wonderful piece with soft black straps, shiny strong buckles and tight tiny padlocks to keep it all in place and no db to 'enjoy' it.
Which leads me to other thoughts that I have resisted writing about and been reluctant to put down in words, not wanting to 'air dirty laundry' or hurt or offend people who may read but these thoughts fill my head and I need to empty it and exorcise some of them.
I still think of db every day, many times a day, first thing in my day and last thing in my night. I miss him, I miss us, I miss our friendship, our chatter, laughter, fun, gossip, humor. I miss his hugs and his kisses. I miss sitting, walking, standing beside him. I miss making love with him and I miss our play. Oh how I miss our wonderful play
Though the sex side is really the least of it all. I had always believed we were so much more than sex even though all our play and much of our contact was very sexual. My libido has returned although it is not quite sure where and how to direct itself since I am not being 'intimate' with my husband. So I have ignored many of the thoughts and sensations and resorted to physical release without the emotions of thought
We have now (more or less) severed all contact with each other, we have to, he was once again often lying to his wife about the contact we were making and I know that as much as my head knew it was just contact that my heart ached for it to mean more than it can do. I wanted it to mean he misses me, I wanted it to mean that he still thinks of me, I wanted it to mean he still wanted me on some level or other. I can't allow myself want or feel that anymore. I have to let go.
I could talk and discuss us and dissect us and analyse us with him till the cows come home and it would change nothing, it is pointless and futile. He made his choice, he chose to end us, nothing will alter that and yet still I play scenarios in my head, over and over and over like a groundhog day movie.
Our first kiss, believed by his wife to be all down to me, remembered by me as being so tentative and nervous by us both, had he held back or resisted physical contact I would not have made a move, anyone who knows me, I mean really knows me, knows that I am not confident enough to do that, knows that I just dont have enough belief in myself to be that upfront and forceful until I am made to feel that confidence. I remember sitting with him that first meeting, coffee growing cold on the table in front of us while he kissed my face, every area of my face, my cheeks and jawline, my nose, my brow, my eyelids, softly peppered with kisses. My wrists, my palms, each finger tip touched with gentle kisses. I did not force that upon him, did not make him do that.
I remember the first time we had sex, he seemed so confident to me, I remember him teasing me for 'hiding' under the duvet and peeling it back as he kissed down my body, admiring my lingerie but telling me breathlessly it was 'coming off', kissing every inch of me and whispering I was gorgeous, I did not make him do that, if anything I had felt seduced.
And yet it is me now that plays these scenes through my head trying to remember how the really were, not how I think either he has portrayed them to his wife (or how she has interpreted in the telling) but how they really felt. I still feel I am trying to justify my love for him to myself, to prove to myself I wasnt just a gullible fool that was carried along by it all, but a women deeply in love with a man who had given her every reason to truly believe he felt the same.
I want him, me, my friends, all of you to truly believe that I never for one moment imagined, meant or felt that I was forcing the affair upon him. The thought is abhorrent to me
And so once again I feel lost and hurt and lonely, yes, alone. Still in much the same place as I was in before i met him except this time having known a love that felt so passionate, so intense, so consuming that I am not sure i will ever feel the same again.
But I have my wonderful chastity belt my prize, my parcel, I just still miss my darling playmate....
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