tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75519997213909321472026-03-22T08:19:43.544-04:00Confessions of an AdulteressRefusing to surrender to marriage!Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.comBlogger215125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-34265759827531964032013-08-08T16:47:00.000-04:002013-08-08T16:47:28.316-04:00The Reality: DivorceI don't know how many of you remember me (or even care). I simply wanted to make one final post on this blog although it has been months since I last posted.<br />
<br />
My husband and I are separating. I initiated the separation. We are headed for divorce. There is no turning back now. I am transferring my job to a state in the South and planning on starting a new life. <br />
<br />
Asking for a separation was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. There was no yelling or screaming. Simply two calm adults realizing the end of 23+ years of marriage. It was very painful and emotional.<br />
<br />
No, he has no idea about my secret life and it will remain that way.<br />
<br />
I am still with Drake and we will continue to be good friends after I move..<br />
<br />
I am going to have to deal with the double whammy of my marriage ending as well as losing my lover of three years. <br />
<br />
Maybe you will see me in the divorce blogs..."Starting Over..."<br />
<br />
Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-15026148600007123712012-11-27T05:51:00.000-05:002012-11-27T05:51:03.259-05:00Sex With a Man from X[I originally wrote this for Kat's Sex Blog Chain, but I forgot to post it.]<br />
<br />
There are distinct advantages and disadvantages to living a stone's throw from the nation's capital. One of the disadvantages is that this area is a prime target for terrorists. Nearly everyone I know knew someone (or knew someone who knew someone) who was at the Pentagon on 9/11. One of the advantages is that there are a lot of men who want to fuck outside of their marriage.<br />
<br />
I should add that there are a lot of high-powered men who want to fuck outside of their marriage.<br />
<br />
First, a bit of background. Due to my Dad's career, I grew up living the life of a globetrotter. I've lived and traveled all over the world. I've lived on the East Coast and the West Coast and places in between. I have been exposed to many different cultures and people. My Dad taught me early on not to be overly impressed by powerful or famous people. "They put their pants on one leg at a time." <br />
<br />
Thanks to my Dad's levelheadedness, it takes a LOT to impress me. So much so that at this stage in my life, I honestly can't say that there is anyone or anything that would knock my socks off.<br />
<br />
In other words, I didn't start slobbering when I met Joe.<br />
<br />
I met Joe on Ashley Madison about six years ago. It was July and I was a newbie on the site and he claimed to be as well. Whether that was true, I know not. I was sitting at my computer one afternoon, trying to handle the influx of messages I was receiving, when I received a chat request from Joe (no, I am not giving away his user name!).<br />
<br />
Joe told me that he lived a short distance from me (yes, at the time I was stupid enough to list my actual city). My curiosity piqued, we chatted for quite awhile. I gave him access to my private showcase.<br />
<br />
(Back then, I had barely 128 pounds on my 5'9" frame and when Joe and I ran into each other a few years later and I was about 20 pounds heavier, he confessed that the added pounds suited me!)<br />
<br />
He asked me whether I could see him that evening.<br />
<br />
"This evening?" I was a little incredulous.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I'm going out of town tomorrow." <br />
<br />
"Where should we meet?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"At my condo," he replied. He gave me the address and the name of the community.<br />
<br />
I managed to pull a story together to tell my family my reason for going out that night.<br />
<br />
I arrived at the entrance to his condo wearing a sleeveless white summer dress (no panties, of course!). He came down almost immediately when I buzzed him. We took the elevator, chit-chatting about this and that.<br />
<br />
I confess that I liked what I saw. He was tall (at least 6'4" ), trim, dark hair, and impeccably dressed. <br />
<br />
He ushered me down the hallway to the front door of his condo. The hallway looked more like the hallway of a luxury hotel. Paintings, mirrors, plush carpeting. <br />
<br />
The condo was immaculate and gorgeous and huge. He obviously had wonderful taste and the money to indulge in the best furniture and art that money could buy. Framed glossy photos of him with the mucky mucks of the day dotted his condo. Curiously enough, one of the first things he pointed out to me was a small framed black and white photo of himself as a child with his Mom. I was touched. <br />
<br />
We wandered into the kitchen. He offered me a glass of wine. While he poured the wine, I walked over to a floor to ceiling bookshelf stuffed with movies. All organized by genre and alphabetically. I am a huge movie buff and I called out some titles to him, giving my thumbs up on his vast selection.<br />
<br />
He handed me the wine.<br />
<br />
"May I ask what you do for a living? Where is your wife?"<br />
<br />
He hesitated for a split second.<br />
<br />
"Sorry, I'm a woman. Simply curious."<br />
<br />
"Sure. I understand." He paused. "I work for X. I was elected several years ago and I'm finishing up my term before I retire in a few years. My wife has a successful business in our home state, so she chose not to accompany me here."<br />
<br />
"Do you see her often?"<br />
<br />
"We take turns visiting. I fly home to see her, she flies here...usually on weekends."<br />
<br />
A pause.<br />
<br />
"But that's not why we're here, is it?"<br />
<br />
I smiled.<br />
<br />
He walked over to me, put his arms over my shoulders and drew me into him. He leaned down and we kissed. It was a deep, probing, electrifying kiss.<br />
<br />
He pulled me toward the living room where all the lights were on. He closed the curtains. His condo overlooked another residential building across the street.<br />
<br />
We stood kissing. His hand began to glide down the front of my dress. He gently pulled up the bottom up the dress and slid his hand up to my wet and wanting cunt. <br />
<br />
"No panties," he murmured. "Fucking hot!"<br />
<br />
He started to hand fuck me. Then he got down on his knees and gently spread my legs apart. He licked and sucked my clit and brought me to orgasm.<br />
<br />
I thought that he would want me to suck his cock in the living room, but instead he took my hand and guided me to his bedroom. <br />
<br />
He threw me down on the bed and pulled off his pants. Straddling my face, he began fucking my mouth with a vengeance. With each thrust he went deeper and deeper down my throat until I thought I was going to pass out. Each time he pulled out, I took one short gasping breath.<br />
<br />
"You. Are. A. Fucking. Slut." <br />
<br />
As he got close to climaxing, my eyes began to water and I started to see stars. He came explosively, his cum shooting out and sliding deep down the back of my throat. <br />
<br />
He pulled out of my mouth and collapsed on top of me.<br />
<br />
"How did that feel?"<br />
<br />
"Feel?" I laughed. "You mean before or after I thought I was going to pass out?"<br />
<br />
We both laughed.<br />
<br />
Over the course of the next few months, we had more encounters. I was always amazed, when we went out in public (discreetly, of course!) how he could command attention when he entered a room. A definite glad hander.<br />
<br />
But what do you expect from an elected official?<br />
<br />
Joe and I eventually went our separate ways. He is now retired, still married, living in his home state, and travels a lot. We are still in touch.<br />
<br />
[I have to add that Drake, Joe, and I had a threesome about two years ago, before Joe moved back to his home state!]<br />
<br />Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-14265555734210547052012-11-26T12:55:00.000-05:002012-11-26T12:55:42.304-05:00It's Been Awhile!It has been such a long time since I last posted on my blog. I had to check my blog to see the last post date! Apparently it has been over 2.5 weeks.<br />
<br />
My feeling is that my blog is losing its usefulness. I had a bizarre nightmare early this morning and woke up vowing to eradicate my naughty self (or at least try!) from the Internet. Not that this eradication will affect me sexually in real life. Haha. <br />
<br />
I wrote a piece over a month ago for Kat's Sex Blog Chain this month (sex with a politician) and I forgot to submit it! Dummy me!<br />
<br />
I have been spending time on FetLife for a change of pace. <br />
<br />
My oldest son and his girlfriend are getting married next year. I can't even imagine what life will be like without him around. I accept that I have to let him go (he IS 22, after all!), but it is difficult. He will probably move within an hour's drive of us...but still...<br />
<br />
Drake and I are going stronger than ever. It is difficult to believe that we have been together for nearly 2.5 years. I absolutely adore him and I know he is pretty happy that I am in his life. I don't see anything changing in the near future.<br />
<br />
As for Dave and me. He is away at the moment and I have vowed to try harder once he comes home. I do miss him.<br />
<br />
I will probably keep this blog going. Simply because it pains me to shut it down after all the work I've put into it! I think I have needed a breather that may continue a bit longer.<br />
<br />
Overall, life has been treating me well. No complaints!<br />
<br />
I will try to catch up on my favorite blogs over the next week. Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-11576813876878746962012-11-07T03:59:00.000-05:002012-11-07T03:59:12.113-05:00Ack!My blog roll has been hijacked by two blogs I did NOT add. I can't figure out how to get rid of them. Grrr.<br />
<br />
On a happier note. I'm proud to be living in a state where voters approved gay marriage. Hopefully, the legalization of marijuana will soon be on the ballot.Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-61041757195363367652012-10-27T06:00:00.000-04:002012-10-27T06:00:00.421-04:00Sunday Stealing: Who Are You? (One Week Late and on a Saturday)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PbSjsJVZNPjaYdXrST0LmIeHBUuWhj5y5JGbotV3-Yh3pihty2uOUrYB3n5zTTSH4UcQE1epa_no3_9EAyo-QFYS_pwKQsZNB8gk9tMdD1Rmva7GG_TkfcijrKFFnTAt3sptja84AwI/s1600/Diane+Williamsburg.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PbSjsJVZNPjaYdXrST0LmIeHBUuWhj5y5JGbotV3-Yh3pihty2uOUrYB3n5zTTSH4UcQE1epa_no3_9EAyo-QFYS_pwKQsZNB8gk9tMdD1Rmva7GG_TkfcijrKFFnTAt3sptja84AwI/s320/Diane+Williamsburg.tif" width="126" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, this is me!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong></strong> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong></strong> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong>I liked these questions, so I thought I would post despite being a bit late to the party.</strong></div>
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>15. How would you describe your childhood in general?</strong><br />
I was a happy kid. I had a great group of friends wherever I lived (I moved a lot). Awesome Mom, Dad, and older sister. I was spoiled. I loved horses more than boys (surprise!!) for quite a few years.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>16. What is your earliest memory?</strong><br />
I was on a hobby horse in a playground (3 or 4 years old) and some kid lied to me and told me that my Mom was looking for me. I left and he took my hobby horse.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>17. How much schooling have you had? </strong><br />
Bachelor's degree.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>18. Did you enjoy school? </strong><br />
I didn't truly enjoy or appreciate school until I hit college/university.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>19. Stop and count, Since you were born until today; how many homes have you
lived in?</strong><br />
Egads. A conservative estimate is somewhere between 20 and 25 homes.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>20. While growing up, did you have any role models?</strong><br />
Honestly? I idolized my Mom and Dad when I was younger...until I became a teenager. I had this awesome history teacher in high school. Even though I put little effort into my studies, he knew I was intelligent and encouraged me.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>21. While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your
family?</strong><br />
Due to moving around so frequently, we were a tightly knit family of four. We are still close.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>22. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?</strong><br />
Hands-down...a veterinarian. I loved animals when I was a kid.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>23. What were your favorite activities 3 years ago?</strong><br />
Studying to finish my college degree after a twenty-year hiatus, hiking with my oldest son, and reading.<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>24. As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?</strong><br />
Honestly? I got discouraged and impatient easily. (Things have improved since then). I had a big heart and I was always defending other kids (and I often go myself in trouble as a result!). I was impulsive (still am at times). I never let anyone walk over me (something I learned from my Mom).<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>25. As a child, were you popular?</strong><br />
I was too introverted to be popular. However, I always had wonderful friends. Fortunately, I was never picked on or bullied. <br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>26. When and with whom was your first kiss?</strong><br />
This is terrible, I honestly don't remember my first kiss (pathetic, huh?) However, I remember my first "boyfriend." His name was Matthew. He was in my Kindergarten class and I adored him!<br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<strong>27. Describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do
today. </strong><br />
I am not overly impressed by anything due to seeing so much of the world at such a young age. <br />
<strong>
</strong><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong>28. What’s next?</strong></span> <br />
What's next? Hmmm. I am fairly content with my life at the moment. It has some ups and downs, but overall I would say I am content. No major changes on the horizon.<br />
<br />
See who else is playing at <a href="http://sundaystealing.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sunday Stealing</a>Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-29281317272985648482012-10-26T05:29:00.000-04:002012-10-26T05:29:14.975-04:00Frankenstorm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivQQxql5xEZh6hM5D3lTM8MhJKz5xn3b9Da3Z7BE8YSSpdUYyzoZvSYqGoXlQ90PVY8spF7IKQRllvQDwlf8SNwqcuzqJ7fgfv_c7Vvs-1QgsU9MYJIdpkgebbMCEw1FCSyWQGFIHVx8/s1600/frankenstorm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivQQxql5xEZh6hM5D3lTM8MhJKz5xn3b9Da3Z7BE8YSSpdUYyzoZvSYqGoXlQ90PVY8spF7IKQRllvQDwlf8SNwqcuzqJ7fgfv_c7Vvs-1QgsU9MYJIdpkgebbMCEw1FCSyWQGFIHVx8/s320/frankenstorm.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
Meteorologists are predicting the "Perfect Storm" to hit on Sunday and peak on Tuesday. The brunt of the storm is going to hit north of us, fortunately (sorry, New York and New Jersey). Or so they say! I'm sure the grocery stores will be crowded Sunday afternoon. I am hoping our power doesn't go out. It hasn't in the past. Although during the winter we had three blizzards, we did go without power for a mere few hours while others went without for days!<br />
<br />
If the weather is truly as bad as they say it's going to be--gale-force winds, heavy rain, flooding--I am wondering whether it will cut into my time with Drake on Monday. In addition, my youngest son has several doctor's appointments early in the week. It's not that I am too chicken to drive in bad weather...it is the OTHER drivers I worry about! <br />
<br />
Just thinking out loud. Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-28408435261092549452012-10-24T06:07:00.000-04:002012-10-24T06:07:14.642-04:00I Wish...I sit across from you.You talk endlessly about things that interest you...your new car...work...the gym...music. I find myself wishing--no, longing--for that spark to return. The spark that brought us together over 23 years ago. That electrifying first kiss. The hot, passionate sex early in our relationship. I want to see that look. That look in your eyes that I haven't seen for years. I am listening to you, but I am trying to imagine what it would be like if we could fall in love all over again. I know the chances of it happening are slim to none.<br />
<br />
You can't give me what I need.<br />
<br />
******************<br />
<br />
I idolized my parents when I was growing up. Perhaps I still do. They seemed so perfect. I remember coming home from a New Year's Eve party when I was in high school and discovering the door to my parents' room wide open, all the lights on. My Mom and Dad lying in a naked embrace, asleep.<br />
<br />
It shocked me. It shocked me to know that they are sexual beings. I don't know what their sex life is like now...in their 70's...but I did knock over a bottle of Viagra during my last visit, while looking for some Advil. So the spark must still be there. I am envious of the relationship they have had for over fifty years.<br />
<br />
Something I will never have.Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-28162733459186954852012-10-23T05:19:00.003-04:002012-10-23T05:19:48.597-04:00TMI Tuesday Then & Now<span style="color: #0000cc;"><strong>1. What one part of your sex life today would most surprise the 17 year old you?</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;">What would be most surprising is how much I enjoy rough sex, dirty talk, and those moments of sexual, pleasurable pain!</span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;"><strong>2. What one thing might shock that younger you?</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;">That one day I would cheat on my husband and have no regrets.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;"><strong>3. What part of the younger you’s (not necessarily at age 17) sex life do you look back on with the most nostalgia?</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;">Honestly? My first college boyfriend had an amazing tongue and brought me to orgasm over and over again. He was amazing. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;"><strong>4. Is there anything in the younger you’s sexual ambitions or fantasies you have not yet fulfilled?</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;">I truly can't think of anything. I truly can't! I guess I am fortunate that most of my fantasies have been fulfilled. Although I have fantasized about an orgy...</span><br />
<strong><span style="color: red;"></span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Bonus:</span></strong> Give your 17 year old self a piece of sexual advice.<strong><span style="color: #0000cc;"> </span></strong><br />
<span style="color: #0000cc;">Don't marry young. Don't marry a man who has little sexual experience and is addicted to porn.</span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #0000cc;"></span></strong><br />
<a href="http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">TMI Tuesday</a>Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-41360262820421000572012-10-17T19:58:00.002-04:002012-10-17T19:58:40.100-04:00A Brief Wednesday Rant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDQYuRNy8W3bzWLxwa5gjNBefZLYA6KQbaeIsyTM-tlGtOJdhVOV68LDEYVNcDRbBhnv8Drau1GSf_y_jrjlMckUoALJZYM4iWkHZZ0f9-GTjl3IU-p069dIoEKrmWoOmEMxPfk1LyFE/s1600/binders-full-of-women-hugh-hefner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDQYuRNy8W3bzWLxwa5gjNBefZLYA6KQbaeIsyTM-tlGtOJdhVOV68LDEYVNcDRbBhnv8Drau1GSf_y_jrjlMckUoALJZYM4iWkHZZ0f9-GTjl3IU-p069dIoEKrmWoOmEMxPfk1LyFE/s320/binders-full-of-women-hugh-hefner.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
I'll be SO happy when November 6th has come and gone. <br />
<br />
I hop on Facebook perhaps once a day. My News Feed has been overrun by my friends who are Democrats and my friends who are Republicans. One woman posts political comments daily and she is borderline insulting at times. The problem is that I truly like her. I just don't like her politics!<br />
<br />
Then there's the <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/release-of-names-in-maine-prostitution-case-casts-shadow-over-men-with-similar-names/2012/10/16/32909dda-17f6-11e2-a346-f24efc680b8d_story.html" target="_blank">"Zumba Sex Scandal"</a> in Kennebunk, Maine. What is the point in outing people? Why release names? Don't the police have anything better to do? Doesn't the justice system have more pressing matters?<br />
<br />
Prostitution? Legalize it!<br />
Pot? Legalize it!<br />
The US Voting System? Reform it!<br />
<br />
As for last night's debate? The best part was Romney's "binders full of women" remark. I couldn't stop laughing. I suddenly realized how much I miss Bushisms. A classic? Listen below (it is barely 30 seconds long). My all-time fave. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Q8MzM-GV02Y?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-16340739578752038142012-10-16T11:19:00.000-04:002012-10-16T11:19:45.543-04:00Leaving?Drake was stressed when we met last night. His job keeps him busy, but it was his family that was stressing him out this time.<br />
<br />
We are now in the habit of meeting at his office for some wine and sex on Mondays. No one is around by the time I get there. He doesn't seem concerned that anyone will show up, so I don't worry about it.<br />
<br />
He told me that he is tired of the way his kids and wife treat him. His wife doesn't back him up when it comes to parenting. She usually takes the kids' side (they are all in their late teens). She thinks he is too hard on them.<br />
<br />
He told me if things don't change he is moving out and getting an apartment.<br />
<br />
I was floored.<br />
<br />
I was so floored I didn't even know what to say.<br />
<br />
He was absolutely serious. <br />
<br />
I then found myself gently questioning him. They love him, why would he move out? Etc. He said that he is done with raising children who don't appreciate him, that he's been through it before...being undermined by his children's mother (in another marriage).<br />
<br />
I am hoping this will pass quickly. As ironic as it may be, I don't want him to leave his wife and family. I truly don't!<br />
<br />
I think he would be making a huge mistake.<br />
<br />
I felt as though he had upset my little universe. How selfish is that?Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-64929947351503871902012-10-13T10:10:00.000-04:002012-10-13T10:10:22.767-04:00The Beginnings of a Glorious Weekend<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_kSaE_6rlP0nXKcKhQaqeRr6rdjJWoJgVBcb8AsMJUqhBQ2zm3-s8d89gciEyaSPMoL7a5x9goXvrxKkDPUDLzeZHQZK5QTB5dAVs7-LBWnWU1yrdDGQkYSkGNq7VwF7ogBKnjrIQkG4/s1600/Skyline+Drive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_kSaE_6rlP0nXKcKhQaqeRr6rdjJWoJgVBcb8AsMJUqhBQ2zm3-s8d89gciEyaSPMoL7a5x9goXvrxKkDPUDLzeZHQZK5QTB5dAVs7-LBWnWU1yrdDGQkYSkGNq7VwF7ogBKnjrIQkG4/s320/Skyline+Drive.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skyline Drive, VA</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
I love this time of year! I love sweaters, boots, and watching the leaves turn color. Even my naturally wavy hair needs less taming. The chill in the air energizes me. Although we have fewer hours of daylight, I can deal with it!<br />
<br />
I had a wonderful day with Drake yesterday. We met at noon for lunch at a restaurant close to his office. We ate, drank wine, and enjoyed each other's company. Afterwards, we drove to a garden center to buy my mums. The pink mums were gorgeous and in full bloom, but I decided to buy some purple mums that had fewer blossoms and lots of buds. <br />
<br />
Next stop was a local park. We lay together in the grass. No one was around, so I wasn't surprised when his hand slipped down the front of my shirt. My nipples were especially hard due to surprisingly cool wind that had kicked up. <br />
<br />
We finished off the day at a coffee shop. At one point, we found ourselves simply staring into each other's eyes, smiling. No words were necessary. It was that non-verbal acknowledgement of contentment. Of tranquility. Of peace. Of love. <br />
<br />
Today is going to be a good day! Dave and I are going downtown to the theatre. The show got excellent reviews. I am excited! We will probably go out for dinner afterwards.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is my community meeting in the morning and dinner out with the entire family. The four of us haven't found the time to go out for dinner together in months. I am really looking forward to it.<br />
<br />
Life is good...Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-31298264560520329102012-10-11T12:57:00.000-04:002012-10-11T12:58:29.500-04:00Complacency?I feel very happy today, on this beautiful autumn day.<br />
<br />
Not an over-the-top manic kind of happy that always gets me in trouble.<br />
<br />
A content things-are-alright kind of happy.<br />
<br />
Despite having tennis elbow that hasn't gone away after five weeks.<br />
<br />
Despite needing a wisdom tooth pulled because my dentist says it isn't worth drilling and putting a crown on it.<br />
<br />
Everything seems so right at the moment. I love the relationship I have with Drake. The sex is awesome. Our friendship is strong. We simply get along <em>so</em> well. We take advantage of every moment we have together. We enjoy each other's company.<br />
<br />
Dave and I went to a Thai restaurant for dinner on Monday and then we watched a movie. Things are going well with him. I feel comfortable with him. At this moment, I truly doubt that I will ever leave him. <br />
<br />
Also on the home front: My youngest son has found a therapist whom he likes. He is taking his medication and seems much less moody and discontent. He and my husband don't argue the way they used to. My oldest son, although still in love with a woman whose student visa expires next year, is taking life as it is thrown at him. What next year brings, I don't know. He is an adult, though, and he needs to make his own decisions. <br />
<br />
Work is going well. Although I sometimes wish I had a job with more prestige, a job that made more money...I realize that I am happy telecommuting and setting my own hours. I love the flexibility of my job. I don't plan on giving that up any time soon.<br />
<br />
I love my volunteer work. It is rewarding and makes me realize that my life is pretty darn good.<br />
<br />
My mood disorder hasn't caused me any grief recently. Perhaps because I am faithfully taking my medication.<br />
<br />
Am I acting too complacent? Am I walking through life with blinders on? Am I building a house of cards that could come crashing down?<br />
<br />
I asked my older sister (my only sibling) what she thought. She knows all about my relationship with Drake, etc. She said that if being complacent keeps you from being overly stressed, it's okay.<br />
<br />
<sigh> <br />
<br />
Perhaps she is right!Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-60475908408171780842012-10-09T06:26:00.000-04:002012-10-09T06:43:08.047-04:00TMI Tuesday: Fuck Yeah, It's Random<div align="center">
<a href="http://tmituesdayblog.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/fuckyeahitsrandom2.jpg"><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-1022" src="http://tmituesdayblog.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/fuckyeahitsrandom2.jpg?w=640" title="fuckyeahitsrandom" /></a></div>
<br />
Hey, hey, hey, hey…Time to get random again on <a href="http://www.tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">TMI Tuesday</a>. Why? Because it is fun to know random stuff about you; it can reveal a lot about your personality.<br />
<br />
1. Tell us about your sluttiest act ever.<br />
<strong>Ever? Absolutely sluttiest? This may not seem slutty, but to me it is. When I first met my husband, years ago, I mooned him in a public place (yes, there were people around!) This may not seem slutty to some, but I have a sense of decorum. While I don't like to publicly display my sexuality in my vanilla life, I certainly don't hold anything against those who do! Again, it's that introvert in me. </strong><br />
<br />
2. Have you ever played air-guitar. . .naked?<br />
<strong>Uh...YEAH!</strong><br />
<br />
3. To what song do you most like to play air-guitar either clothed or naked?<br />
<strong>Everlong by the Foo Fighters. Shall I upload the movie of me playing? ;-)</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
4. Are you good in bed? Why?<br />
<strong>"Good?" I am awesome in bed. Why else would I feel a need to write about my exploits in a blog? ;-) Seriously, my prowess in bed is based on the man I am with. Right now, I am good because I know that I totally please Drake and that's what I consider "good"...pleasing the one I'm with.</strong><br />
<br />
5. What FEELS Sexy to you–tactile sensation? (Leave sight and taste out of this)<br />
<strong>Okay, this is going to sound bizarre. I love rubbing my hand on Drake's hairy arm. Dunno why! He has sexy arms!</strong><br />
<br />
Bonus: Write a six word autobiography.<br />
<strong>Hot introvert who is loving life!</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>See who else is playing at <a href="http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/2012/10/08/tmi-tuesday-october-9-2012/" target="_blank">TMI Tuesday!</a></strong>Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-41474374501744936322012-10-08T06:38:00.003-04:002012-10-08T06:38:47.440-04:00Mum's the Word<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcdGYysr_tZyg3RTk3Ca1h8kXp977I-atv_Hpr6_QuPRzNRiy2lx8ZpWzjyblWjtVWws3GUizlAUbhNVPcKaHuzMZcQ6oWl8c7IcwGZG4clEdsKV6JrWXFQrHmYiQ9Nkaw2Vmj8YHC0Y/s1600/thCAPQFGPT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcdGYysr_tZyg3RTk3Ca1h8kXp977I-atv_Hpr6_QuPRzNRiy2lx8ZpWzjyblWjtVWws3GUizlAUbhNVPcKaHuzMZcQ6oWl8c7IcwGZG4clEdsKV6JrWXFQrHmYiQ9Nkaw2Vmj8YHC0Y/s200/thCAPQFGPT.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
My Mom, who is in her mid-seventies, is a breast cancer survivor.<br />
<br />
Not once.<br />
<br />
Twice.<br />
<br />
She was first diagnosed with breast cancer about 17 years ago. She had a lumpectomy and underwent radiation therapy. Over ten years later, she had a recurrence. She ended up having a mastectomy. <br />
<br />
My Mom caught the cancer early. She had just had a mammogram and although they called her back for a second look, the radiologist told her everything was just fine. <br />
<br />
Until she found a tiny lump during a self-exam less than a month later.<br />
<br />
She was devastated to find out about the cancer. My Mom, though, has never had time for self-pity. She asked what her options were and followed her surgeon's and oncologist's advice.<br />
<br />
My Mom takes care of herself. She does 1000 demi-squats every morning (yes, really!) and lifts light weights. She weighs a mere 103 pounds. She eats right, but does enjoy occasional desserts. <br />
<br />
My Mom was living in this area during her first bout with cancer, but she and my Dad moved to the South two years later. She and my Dad have driven up here from the South every October for the past fifteen years so she can continue seeing her surgeon and oncologist.<br />
<br />
Last year, her oncologist said that she is in complete remission. The cancer appears to be gone. Her oncologist said that she needs to continue seeing her family doctor, but there is little need for her to be seen by an oncologist.<br />
<br />
I was happy to hear the news, but a bit saddened that they won't be visiting. Every year when they visit, my Mom, Dad, and I go to a local nursery and buy two big, beautiful Mums. It has become a tradition.<br />
<br />
I normally buy a seasonal color--such as orange.<br />
<br />
This year, however, I think I will buy pink Mums. In celebration of my Mom's life. Mums in honor of my Mum!<br />
<br />
She is a fighter!Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-18196098469389450392012-10-06T16:27:00.001-04:002012-10-08T06:39:06.076-04:00Why?I try not to live in the future...at the very least not TOO far into the future. It isn't the greatest way to live. For example, I was tapped (out of 32 teammates) to be on a five-week project at work. I am thrilled, but at the same time a bit intimidated. In my vanilla life, I usually stay within my comfort zone (*my sexual life is another story*)! <br />
<br />
I have no idea what this project is about--I will find out on Monday. I am trying to remain calm and confident. I wish I could look ahead and see the good things that might come out of this project...my supervisor said there could be "growth opportunities," which I welcome. However, I know that I will simply take each day as it comes.<br />
<br />
This is how I have lived the past 2+ years of my affair. Taking each day as it comes. I have no illusions (delusions?) that Drake and I will ever spend any more time than we already spend together. We enjoy each other's company. Although we do have serious talks about life, we try to keep things light when we're together. We're playful, understanding, and very sexual when we're together, but we recognize the limits. <br />
<br />
I have been following a fellow blogger's ups and downs in her affair. Her latest post disturbed me and made me realize how fortunate I am to have a stable affair partner. I also found myself descending into blogs about the "other side." Women and men who have been cheated on. <br />
<br />
It's ironic, but I feel for them. I wouldn't want to be in their shoes.<br />
<br />
So, why do I cheat?<br />
<br />
I just can't explain why anymore.Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-34133054777718025372012-10-02T05:22:00.000-04:002012-10-02T05:26:30.218-04:00TMI Tuesday: You Wear It Well!<strong>1. What is your most favourite thing to wear that you have in your closet at the moment?</strong><br />
Wow! That is a tough one. <br />
<br />
Something New: I recently bought a pair of bootcut Levi's. I haven't worn Levi's brand jeans in years and this pair is so damn comfortable. They're a bit stretchy and very soft. I absolutely love them! I buy my jeans/pants in junior sizes. The odd sizes fit me much better than women's even sizes. Plus, junior sizes tend to be lower cut in the waist, which I like!<br />
<br />
Something Old: I have a beautiful pair of worn leather boots that hit me nearly mid-calf. They are a dark caramel color and a bit beat up (or should I say "gently worn?"). I absolutely love them. They were quite expensive and I wasn't sure whether to buy them at the time, but now I'm glad I did!<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>2. What is the one item of clothing that you have seen on one of your friends / workmates that you would steal for yourself if you had the chance?</strong><br />
It isn't so much an item of clothing, but a look I actually "stole." I was in a six-week training class with an attractive woman who always dressed so stylishly. I was jealous. She could rock a scarf and often did. She had them in many colors, patterns, and textures. Once the class was over, I didn't see her again. So I co-opted her scarf look. I am glad fall is here. I'm looking forward to wearing scarves again!<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>3. What is the one thing that your partner wears that never fails to turn you on. Why does it turn you on so much?</strong><br />
Drake has this blue short-sleeve shirt that complements his blue, blue eyes. He looks so sexy in it!<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>4. What is the one thing you wear when you want to attract the attention of your partner or others?</strong><br />
Hmmm. Another tough one. I tend to be a fairly modest person (yes, believe it!). You won't find me prancing around in anything that isn't "age appropriate." I am a classic introvert, I don't like to draw too much attention to myself. However, there are times when I like to sneak in sexy. I have a pair of black Yoga pants (although I can't contort my body into downward dog!) that I like to wear with a cap-sleeved low-cut pink t-shirt. It makes me feel sexy and feminine. When I am in awesome shape (unfortuately, the stress of this year has caused me to put on a few pounds!), I love to go out wearing this outfit. Whenever I wear it around Drake, he never fails to squeeze my ass. :-)<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>5. When you want to feel sexy what do you wear and why?</strong><br />
I have this awesome wraparound dress that hits above the knee and shows a bit of cleavage. It is a cream color with black flowers. It looks great on me. With a pair of two-inch heels, I feel sexy!<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>6. If you had unlimited funds but could only shop for one type of clothing (shoes, lingerie, fetish etc) what would it be?</strong><br />
Honestly? It would be a toss up between jeans and shoes (boots, specifically!).<br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Bonus</span>: Tell us about your favourite scenario, real or fantasy, that involves some kind of clothing or fetish wear.</strong><br />
There is nothing sexier than being in a dress, heels, no panties and having my dress pulled up to my waist, doing it doggy style.<br />
<br />
See who else is playing at <a href="http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">TMI Tuesday!</a><br />
<strong></strong><br />Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-38151690196430268932012-10-01T06:11:00.000-04:002012-10-01T06:11:06.549-04:00A Threesome With Nina(I know this post is odd coming on the heels of my prior post, but life marches on!)<br />
<br />
I met Nina on Craigslist about a month ago. I had put an ad in the Strictly Platonic section, seeking women who were having affairs. I was hoping to find someone to hang out with. Someone who would understand. <br />
<br />
Of course I received a bunch of replies from men. Including one cross-dressing man I've become friendly with. But that's another story!<br />
<br />
I emailed with several women, but there was only one woman I felt a connection with. She lives about an hour south of me and we arranged to meet at a restaurant in a large shopping mall. The mall is about a half-hour's drive for both of us.<br />
<br />
We hit it off immediately. She is younger than I am, but has been married several times. Very open about sex, the way I am. We sat and talked for several hours. <br />
<br />
A few weeks later, we arranged to meet for dinner again. I was feeling a bit naughty, so I asked her whether she would be interested in joining Drake and me instead. Her quick reply was "yes."<br />
<br />
I spoke to Drake and he started making arrangements to meet on Saturday afternoon at a hotel close to her.<br />
<br />
Drake texted me the room number. I arrived shortly thereafter. I went up to the room and he gave me a big hug and kiss. He asked me what I had been doing all day.<br />
<br />
"Watching porn and reading Newsweek," I told him. I had been fortunate to have the house to myself most of the day. <br />
<br />
He laughed.<br />
<br />
Shortly after I arrived, Nina sent me a text announcing her arrival. I went down to the lobby and we went up to the room together.<br />
<br />
Drake gave her a big hug. He offered us glasses of wine and the three of us settled, fully clothed, on the bed. She and I sat on either side of Drake.<br />
<br />
He chatted her up. She laughed a lot. A nervous laugh, I suppose. But he finally put her at ease (although after she left he commented that she talked a lot!). After a few minutes of chatting, he leaned over and kissed her. She responded nicely. While they kissed, I rubbed Drake's leg and cock through his shorts. He reached down inside her shirt and massaged her breast. He told her to take off her shirt.<br />
<br />
She pulled off her shirt to reveal two nicely proportioned breasts with huge dark areolas. I have to admit I was rather fascinated by them. <br />
<br />
Drake asked me to take off my blouse. He deftly undid my bra. He squeezed and teased both of our breasts.<br />
<br />
"Take out my cock."<br />
<br />
I unzipped his pants and pulled it out. <br />
<br />
"Suck on it," he told Nina.<br />
<br />
She started sucking on his cock while I watched, totally turned on.<br />
<br />
"Go under my leg and suck on my balls," he told me.<br />
<br />
At some point, due to our proximity, Nina and I started to kiss. Her mouth and tongue were small, so different from a man's. It felt good and she tasted like mint.<br />
<br />
We all got completely naked. Things get a little foggy from here because I was so caught up in the moment. I will try my best to give a recap!<br />
<br />
The first time I went down on her, I was a bit nervous. Drake has always told me that I have an awesome tongue, but could I satisfy another woman? What if I didn't like the smell or taste? I decided to simply dive in.<br />
<br />
While she sat with her back against Drake, I got between her legs and kissed them a bit. She has a nice small pussy, so it was easy to spot her clit. She smelled clean and tasted neutral. I started running my tongue back and forth and around clit. When she started to moan, I knew I was doing it right, so I continued flicking and swirling my tongue until she had several convulsive orgasms. All the while I could see Drake above me, watching intently. <br />
<br />
It was very hot.<br />
<br />
I felt like a pro.<br />
<br />
Then it was my turn. Unfortunately, a medication I am taking makes me a bit slower to orgasm. Drake wrapped his hands around my throat. He twisted my nipples. She tongued my clit until I finally had a large orgasm. <br />
<br />
Drake pulled out the Rabbit and started fucking me with it while I lay on my back, while she watched. I was surprised when I felt a gush and realized that I had squirted.<br />
<br />
Drake left for the bathroom and she climbed on top of me and we started to kiss. He came back and stood over us, stroking himself. Then he took out the monster dildo and started fucking her hard. She cried out over and over while I held her and we kissed. <br />
<br />
We maneuvered into different positions over a course of two hours. There was a lot of sucking and fucking. Drake kept on holding back until he realized that he wasn't sure he was going to cum.<br />
<br />
The three of us sat on the bed and talked for awhile. We talked about the 69 Nina and I had been in. Drake said he was surprised because normally I am "useless" in the 69 position. Which is true. I get so into being pleasured that I lose focus on the other person. We laughed.<br />
<br />
We talked while he fingered my very wet and wanting pussy. He started to get his erection back. Nina started sucking on his cock. She said she never swallows. <br />
<br />
I told Drake that I wanted him to fuck me. He got a gleam in his eye. He climbed on top of me and pounded me hard. I loved seeing the look on his face as he came hard and continued thrusting. He collapsed on top of me. He gave me a big kiss on the lips and then kissed my nose.<br />
<br />
It was a very hot afternoon. I had been concerned about pleasuring another woman as well as wondering whether I would be jealous. Everything worked out fine. I did please her and I was terribly turned on knowing that Drake had been pleasured. I realize that I am sexually confident enough not to feel jealous.Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-75150587259418178712012-09-29T11:52:00.000-04:002012-09-29T12:21:06.507-04:00The Monkey Wrench<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBuZl2qVAIjf33zpuM-nfsmA3uJxePi2b2961PIKMS1xoFXB4Eu_L027iz_CJjfWKPvWio4kL_Zpan1qHAj-nIYbefRmnbAoNbmBzcuZNa-y3J1aXFtvB_uiRFqGTi-rpnzO0YGxb7R80/s1600/thumbnail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBuZl2qVAIjf33zpuM-nfsmA3uJxePi2b2961PIKMS1xoFXB4Eu_L027iz_CJjfWKPvWio4kL_Zpan1qHAj-nIYbefRmnbAoNbmBzcuZNa-y3J1aXFtvB_uiRFqGTi-rpnzO0YGxb7R80/s200/thumbnail.jpg" width="166" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
The monkey wrench.<br />
<br />
My husband always manages to throw a monkey wrench into my plans.<br />
<br />
I've been grousing the past few days...weeks...years...about how awful my marriage is and how it isn't working. I start contemplating my escape, pricing apartments, figuring how much money I would need to live on in this expensive area I live in (and I have no plans on leaving!). <br />
<br />
Then the monkey wrench.<br />
<br />
My husband and oldest son recently joined an R&B band. They are the only non-African-Americans in the eight-member band. But my husband and son have got soul. Where did it come from? My husband once sang in a gospel choir. My son listened to a lot of rap and R&B in high school. He even went through a phase of letting his pants hang low.<br />
<br />
Last night was the first night they played out together and I was there.<br />
<br />
I have to admit, they sounded truly awesome. I was impressed. The food at the restaurant was pricey, but awesome! I had a few glasses of wine, sat back, and enjoyed the music. About a dozen of my son's friends were there, which was pretty cool. When my son stepped up to the microphone to sing, most of his friends jumped up and took pictures and recorded him singing.<br />
<br />
<em>And I'm so sick of love songs, </em><br />
<em>So tired of tears,</em><br />
<em>So done with wishing you were still here</em><br />
(Ne-Yo)<br />
<br />
My husband told me at least a half-dozen times how thrilled he was that I was there. He introduced me to several of the band members and they said, "Oh, you're beautiful wife." Yes, I blushed.<br />
<br />
And the band thanked my for letting them "borrow" my husband and son for two nights a week.<br />
<br />
When we woke up this morning, my husband and I talked about the music, the band, the sound.They were truly awesome. He was thrilled it went so well.<br />
<br />
In the kitchen, he took me in his arms and told me he loved me and, again, how happy he was that I went. He told me that things are looking up. He wants to save money for a trip to Europe (where we met) for our 25th wedding anniversary (about 2.5 years away). <br />
<br />
He told me he loved me.<br />
<em></em><br />
<em>(oops)<br />There goes the dreams we used to say<br />(oops)<br />There goes the time we spent away<br />(oops)<br />There goes the love I had but you cheated on me<br />And thats for that now</em><br />
<em>(oops)<br />There goes the house we made a home<br />(oops)<br />There goes you'll never leave me alone<br />For all the lies you told<br />This is what you owe</em><br />
(Blu Cantrell)Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-44963800471062568812012-09-27T20:26:00.000-04:002012-09-27T20:26:21.066-04:00Somebody<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1PZblbr9aS0yaj94aFqjoxE_jewJVbsolLvDUdrfxcV3pjirwQ2GNdycJNVz2CPf17npgkHZUB8km3i3d1HDLkhkbHtPeJbmwMmIWyEeB2kMq9SVbTOZfP0bPU7OvPrW6lKs0f42IgHg/s1600/somebody.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1PZblbr9aS0yaj94aFqjoxE_jewJVbsolLvDUdrfxcV3pjirwQ2GNdycJNVz2CPf17npgkHZUB8km3i3d1HDLkhkbHtPeJbmwMmIWyEeB2kMq9SVbTOZfP0bPU7OvPrW6lKs0f42IgHg/s200/somebody.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
I was restless, lonely, and a bit cranky today.<br />
<br />
My smart phone...my window to the world...was horrifically quiet most of the day. Only a few emails and texts. No calls. Even my Words With Friends regulars picked today to be terribly silent. I lunged for the phone with every chirp and chime. <br />
<br />
Pathetic, huh?<br />
<br />
This is the life of a telecommuter. I don't miss the commute, but at times I certainly miss the hustle and bustle of the office. I justify my play time with my cell phone by reasoning that it is time I probably would have spent chit-chatting with co-workers. <br />
<br />
I get my work done.<br />
<br />
But I'm not here to talk about smart phone usage.<br />
<br />
When my brain wasn't focused on work, it wandered to my life...my marriage, to be precise.<br />
<br />
Why do I stay in an unhappy marriage? If I had ALL the money I needed... Would I leave? Will I ever be able to launch my adult children into the world? When the kids are gone, what will he and I talk about? My husband quit one activity on the pretense of spending more time with me and then he started doing something new. Something even <em>more</em> time consuming. He can't sit still.<br />
<br />
I'm not certain I want him to sit still. He makes me anxious when he is around. He exhausts me.<br />
<br />
I long for a partner. Somebody to spend time with. Somebody I can share a life with. Somebody who understands me. Somebody who will listen to me. Somebody I can be myself with. Somebody I can pour 99% of my energy into.<br />
<br />
Somebody.Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-24267134031898294262012-09-26T06:28:00.000-04:002012-09-26T06:28:32.952-04:00My Punishment<div align="center">
</div>
<div align="center">
(continuing from this <a href="http://lunamoon534.blogspot.com/2012/09/when-she-was-bad.html" target="_blank">Post)</a></div>
<br />
Drake sent me a text mid-afternoon Monday:<br />
<br />
<em>Bring a towel, a blanket. Take an enema. </em><br />
<em>No talking on your part until I am done with you.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
I gulped when I read the text. What did he have in store for me?<br />
<br />
I felt a bit anxious as I drove to his office. At a stoplight, my phone chimed indicating I had a text message.<br />
<br />
<em>You anxious?</em><br />
<em>You wet?</em><br />
<em>Or both?</em><br />
<em></em><br />
When I reached Drake's office, I called as I usually do to let him know I was outside. He unlocked the side door and stepped aside to let me in. He looked stern, but he leaned over and planted a wet kiss on my lips.<br />
<br />
I slipped away to the restroom for a few moments.<br />
<br />
When I reached his office, he was sitting in his comfy visitor's chair, fully clothed. I knelt down next to him and rested my head on his chest. I could hear his heart beating.<br />
<br />
"Put the blanket on the floor and get undressed."<br />
<br />
I placed the blanket neatly on the floor and went to sit down on it.<br />
<br />
"No. Stand up and get undressed."<br />
<br />
I slowly took off my clothes. Not in a sexy striptease, but like a bundle of nerves.<br />
<br />
He watched every move I made. Not once cracking the smile I love so much. <br />
<br />
When I was fully undressed, he just sat there, staring at me. I felt terribly vulnerable.<br />
<br />
Finally, he got up and pulled some rope out of a bag. He walked behind me and pressed himself against my back and backside. He reached around, pushed my legs apart, and starting rubbing and fingering my cunt. <br />
<br />
"You're nice and wet."<br />
<br />
He tied my hands together behind my back. He then reached into his bag and pulled out a ball gag. Ah. A new toy. He fiddled with the gag, but he was kind enough to realize that it was too big for my mouth. I have issues with my jaw. Yes, I once locked my jaw giving head! He put it aside.<br />
<br />
He undressed.<br />
<br />
He pulled out the nipple clamps. He tightened them, gauging my expression to see when to stop. When I cried out and lay my head on his chest, he knew they were tight enough.<br />
<br />
"Get on your back on the blanket."<br />
<br />
I knelt down and somehow managed to get onto my back with my hands behind me. My ass and pussy were pointing up in the air.<br />
<br />
"Spread your legs."<br />
<br />
He saw my hesitation.<br />
<br />
"SPREAD YOUR LEGS!"<br />
<br />
He had something in his hand. A small ruler.<br />
<br />
Drake towered over me.<br />
<br />
He bent over and started swatting my cunt with the ruler. I winced in pain and cried out. When I tried reflexively to close my legs, he yelled for me to open them.<br />
<br />
"Don't EVER fuck around on me. Got it? I know you didn't. But DON'T even THINK about it again!!"<br />
<br />
When he was done swatting me, he pulled out a dildo with anal beads on one end. He threaded the anal beads inside me and started to fuck me hard with the other end.<br />
<br />
"Stop. Please. Stop!" I gasped.<br />
<br />
He told me not to talk and continued fucking me with the dildo. When he saw I had had enough, he told me to get on my knees. He unfastened the rope, which had left two ugly welts on my wrists. <br />
<br />
"Your ass is so open right now!"<br />
<br />
He pushed me forward and plunged his cock into my ass and started pounding me. Fortunately, I can take a good ass pounding, although I was starting to lose my breath. He reached around and yanked off the clamps.<br />
<br />
Yow.<br />
<br />
He pulled out, reached for the towel, and wiped himself.<br />
<br />
He flipped me onto my back and took me missionary, my legs straight, pounding so hard and deep that sweat began to form on both of us and our breaths were deep and shallow.<br />
<br />
He came hard, telling me what a fucking awesome cunt I have...how much he loves to use me...how I am his forever. He lay on top of me for a few moments and he kissed me.<br />
<br />
He kissed me.Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-32364319979580891812012-09-25T11:00:00.000-04:002012-09-25T11:00:03.841-04:00When She Was Bad...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhiH5cXyqaz3UD-n_cWzWrxdpnt1wvj5AqFjsAnTWYnwHI1gq-mGKMMOyLG9r6WeX67iN22_LfJfngibwy-IfghnHrj-z0sAuAKU_-gVrwCLAeyfZZVVJB4LrO_AqtfCYv_BkKq6yGak/s1600/thumbnailCA7QLDY7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhiH5cXyqaz3UD-n_cWzWrxdpnt1wvj5AqFjsAnTWYnwHI1gq-mGKMMOyLG9r6WeX67iN22_LfJfngibwy-IfghnHrj-z0sAuAKU_-gVrwCLAeyfZZVVJB4LrO_AqtfCYv_BkKq6yGak/s1600/thumbnailCA7QLDY7.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay. So the little girl doesn't have a curl, but I love her stance and expression!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
Does anyone remember this little poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?<br />
<br />
<em>There was a little girl,</em><br />
<em>Who had a little curl,</em><br />
<em>Right in the middle of her forehead,</em><br />
<em>When she was good,</em><br />
<em>She was very good indeed,</em><br />
<em>But when she was bad,</em><br />
<em>She was horrid!</em><br />
<em></em><br />
I was bad this weekend. Every member of my family was out Friday night and gone all day Saturday. My husband totalled his car and was borrowing mine, so I didn't have a set of wheels to take me anywhere.<br />
<br />
I was bored.<br />
<br />
Friday night I popped onto Adult FriendFinder (AFF) with good intentions to simply chat. Make conversation. I met several interesting men. I hit it off with one of them and our chatting turned into a long text conversation Friday night and into Saturday.<br />
<br />
By mid-day Saturday, he wanted to meet me for lunch.<br />
<br />
WTF? How the HELL did I get to that point? I wasn't leading him on. I was simply being my normal, sexually open self. I sent all the right signals for all the wrong reasons.<br />
<br />
I actually felt tempted.<br />
<br />
Then I thought of Drake and how upset he would be with me. I belong to <em>Drake</em> in the bedroom. My days of whoring around are behind me. Drake <em>owns</em> me in the bedroom. I am completely <em>his</em>.<br />
<br />
I saw Drake at a gathering on Sunday. I left before he and I could talk. He sent me a text asking me why I had "bolted."<br />
<br />
I wrote up an email, telling him about my chatting and possible lunch rendezvous.<br />
<br />
I sent back a text and told him to read the email.<br />
<br />
He was quietly pissed.<br />
<br />
He texted me back and told me that I was "walking a fine line" and that "you made a commitment to me." (I know, to many of you that must sound odd, hmmm? I am a married woman committed to a married man who is not her husband. Hmmm. Hey, at least I can commit to <em>someone</em>!)<br />
<br />
So we ended up chatting online because he was unable to get away to talk on the phone.<br />
<br />
I apologized profusely. I told him I hadn't meant to upset him and make him angry. <br />
<br />
A few days ago, I sent him an email, telling him that I want to test my pain threshold with him. <br />
<br />
He told me that he thought it was time to test that threshold. <br />
<br />
As a reminder to me. <br />
<br />
So I will know <em>who, </em>exactly, owns me in the bedroom.<br />
<br />
I agreed with excitement and a touch of fear.<br />
<br />
I am putty in his hands. Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-90400205346332429132012-09-20T06:55:00.000-04:002012-09-20T06:55:47.030-04:00Breast/Nipple Torture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfF7hF9cmbFqK5Q4F_N1JQSMZOrkDG7cs1Rg0yLPaxQnBA9whlAvTMTXM85ECCVgcr7fpXvQAgp7VpvbERHbyJH3YB2tFnq84Wk7EKLGIJfTRlHEWcZbVCajGHw5qqDc9J0_WKwrWWZ8/s1600/thumbnail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfF7hF9cmbFqK5Q4F_N1JQSMZOrkDG7cs1Rg0yLPaxQnBA9whlAvTMTXM85ECCVgcr7fpXvQAgp7VpvbERHbyJH3YB2tFnq84Wk7EKLGIJfTRlHEWcZbVCajGHw5qqDc9J0_WKwrWWZ8/s200/thumbnail.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
Maybe I'm not a very observant person. <br />
<br />
I have found multiple blogs that disucss spanking (I totally understand the link between discipline and having one's ass whacked!), but I haven't found one that extols the virtues of torturing breasts.<br />
<br />
I'm sure they're out there. I just haven't seen them...yet?<br />
<br />
Before Drake and I physically met for the first time (we were trying to work out the logistics of where and when to meet), I was still working at the office (I currently work from home). A few days after we met, he instructed me (while I was at work) to take two paper clips, go to the ladies room, and loop them around my nipples. <br />
<br />
I have always had sensitive breasts. However, this was something new to me. I wasn't sure what it was going to feel like or whether the paper clips would be visible through my bra under my stretchy t-shirt.<br />
<br />
I carefully looped the clips around my nipples. I enjoyed the sensation so much that I squeezed the clips tighter (no, not TOO tight!). I wasn't on the verge of having an orgasm, but I felt incredibly turned on.<br />
<br />
Upon meeting Drake for the first time, he pulled out nipple clamps. Something I had seen but never experienced. They were on a chain and could be tightened and loosened, so there was control over how tight (or loose!) they could be.<br />
<br />
He put the chain around my neck and put one clamp on my nipple. I sucked in my breath as he slowly tightened it. He watched me carefully to gauge my reaction.<br />
<br />
I absolutely loved the pain.<br />
<br />
Now, I'm no masochist. I don't see myself in someone's dungeon hanging from meat hooks stuck through my skin. However, I admit that I do get very turned on by having my breasts/nipples torutured--clamped, squeezed, pulled, slapped, sucked, nibbled, pinched, tied up...you name it.<br />
<br />
Once or twice, Drake has had the time and energy to engage me in breast bondage and nipple torture...which was totally hot.<br />
<br />
I know that nipple torture has an erotic as well as brutal past. Apparently breast/nipple torture was used to try to extract confessions from alleged witches.<br />
<br />
Although my breasts sometimes become a bit marked up after a more energetic session, Drake seems to know exactly how far to push me before stopping. He would never and HAS never harmed me.<br />
<br />
One thing I haven't tried? Hot wax. That is definitely on my list.Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-42164911818861989622012-09-18T10:43:00.000-04:002012-09-18T10:43:18.174-04:00My One-Year Blogiversary!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0XgvVzGHV4ohnszWYuUF83VNfHkjPV3KHq4u1kLgUhHDZijsLtl0AcbTeLWsN58Yk9TQrEaulu2pRl5X0vX2s43u1nwEbGPpPAskpxc72AhWuZjU6JGyIQhL3dN2mb3Z4Almef2Smaw/s1600/thumbnailCALM1OMP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0XgvVzGHV4ohnszWYuUF83VNfHkjPV3KHq4u1kLgUhHDZijsLtl0AcbTeLWsN58Yk9TQrEaulu2pRl5X0vX2s43u1nwEbGPpPAskpxc72AhWuZjU6JGyIQhL3dN2mb3Z4Almef2Smaw/s200/thumbnailCALM1OMP.jpg" width="156" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Break out the party hats and champagne!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
My blog is one year old today! Ironically, if I had published every post I wrote (there is a small handful I never got around to posting), this would be my 200th post!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It has been fun and cathartic. I have met some really nice people through my blog this past year. Some whose lives appear to be as messed up as mine! Hehe.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A lot has happened this past year. It has definitely been an eventful year. I am still alive and kicking.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Thanks to all my readers. I appreciate your honest comments. You are my motivation to continue writing.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Prost!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-24305388709350419082012-09-14T06:07:00.000-04:002012-09-14T06:07:17.632-04:00Princess Part I<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is a serious departure from what I normally write about. I have hesitated talking about having bipolar disorder because...well...just because (for lack of a better explanation). I went through the wringer back in my 30's, struggling with an illness that has taken me to the brink and back. </div>
<br />
I did a lot of writing whenever I was hospitalized. I usually found a kind nurse who would allow me a pen or pencil and not worry about me harming myself.<br />
<br />
Suffice to say this is not a story, but based on true events.<br />
<br />
**********************************************************************************<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">During intake on the psych ward, she had answered a series
of questions that irritated her. A man—probably in his forties—had sat across
<span style="font-family: inherit;">from</span> her with a clipboard and asked the usual inane questions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Are you suicidal?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Do you have a plan?” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whenever she was asked that question,
she always thought back to the time when her husband had accompanied her to the
ER during a mixed episode she was having. Yes, he had told the nurse, we do
have a plan—we do have health insurance. The nurse had given him a long stare
and asked him to leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Did she have a plan? As though having a goddamn plan to kill
herself would ensure her a room on the psych ward with some psycho roommate and
all the decaf coffee she could drink. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Look,” she said. “I already went through this in the ER.
I’m suicidal and I do know how I would off myself. Does that satisfy you?” She
looked at him defiantly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He continued scribbling on his clipboard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Please place the contents of your purse on the table.” </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">She reluctantly dumped the contents of her purse onto the
table: A wallet, miscellaneous coins, breath mints, a bottle of Ativan, pens, a
small notebook, a tampon, hand moisturizer, a black eyeliner, and a small
pocket knife. He confiscated most of the contents of her purse, diligently
recording everything—including the few dollars she had. He left her with her
coins (“for the soda machine”), the tampon, and moisturizer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Please,” she implored. “Let me keep my eyeliner.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He looked at her in amusement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I promise I won’t use it as a deadly weapon. It won’t even
sharpen to a point. “<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even in the condition she was in, she wasn’t willing to give
up a small item that made her feel feminine…human.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He hesitated for a moment, but left the eyeliner with the
other offending articles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Please remove your shoelaces.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">She bent over, unlaced her shoes, and handed the shoelaces
to him. He turned away for a moment and she seized the opportunity to palm the
eyeliner, slide it across the table, and shove it into her pants pocket. She
was relieved that a female attendant had patted her down before she had entered
the intake room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7551999721390932147.post-53019631544588375202012-09-13T21:33:00.000-04:002012-09-13T21:33:36.933-04:00It is NOT all about YOU!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiziOcMNzbNWrnZU1n2_MD-ejeKu13RtJOUdkI8A2yFD_GfRTItivchVEaS0M4-VWWDSi-wSFFzBZaTd2qVFdVUmbbYeCVBHLZ_y5qL2MGBUFcCK9d5BdPsV83rdTWW-zqaBEoj7628iPU/s1600/thumbnailCAJCQUYQ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiziOcMNzbNWrnZU1n2_MD-ejeKu13RtJOUdkI8A2yFD_GfRTItivchVEaS0M4-VWWDSi-wSFFzBZaTd2qVFdVUmbbYeCVBHLZ_y5qL2MGBUFcCK9d5BdPsV83rdTWW-zqaBEoj7628iPU/s200/thumbnailCAJCQUYQ.jpg" width="152" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
Today we had a family meeting with my son at the hospital. <br />
<br />
The social worker who met with us was a likeable man who appeared to have a lot of experience dealing with young adults. My son told me, during my last visit, that he liked the social worker. He wasn't fond of the psychiatrist assigned to him, but fortunately the psychiatrist's main concern was how he was handling his meds. <br />
<br />
My son has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Like mother, like son. The apple didn't fall far from the tree. <br />
<br />
The social worker sat with us in a small room that reminded me of a holding cell. We spoke for about half an hour without my son present. My husband, oldest son, and I expressed our concerns. The social worker gave us an overview of my son's visit thus far and his hopes for my son once he is discharged from the hospital tomorrow. <br />
<br />
I felt a bit on edge when my son joined us in the room. I knew it was only a matter of time before my husband, Dave, would jump in and start talking about himself.<br />
<br />
It's always about him.<br />
<br />
Things went well for about ten to fifteen minutes. The conversation was rightfully focused on my son.<br />
<br />
Then it happened.<br />
<br />
Dave started talking about himself. His late nights at our local bar, his insomnia. He spoke of riding his skateboard at breakneck speed down the steep hill of a two-way road (yes, I'm still talking about my husband!). His resolve to stop behaving like a 25yo.<br />
<br />
I glanced over at my son during my husband's monologue. He rolled his eyes and gave his head a small shake.<br />
<br />
The social worker listened politely. Once my husband stopped talking, the social worker redirected the conversation back to my son. <br />
<br />
This happened multiple times. My husband would go off on some tangent about himself. Something totally unrelated to the topic of my son. My son always had the same reaction.<br />
<br />
This was the behavior I witnessed when Dave and I were in couples counseling. He tried to dominate the conversation and struggled to listen. <br />
<br />
I try to be understanding, but I honestly find it infuriating.<br />
<br />
I am starting to think Dave needs therapy more than my son does.Luna Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797288665442188799noreply@blogger.com6