Friday Morning Musings

A lot of things, diverse things, on my mind this dreary, cloudy Friday morning.

George commented the other day that, to paraphrase, anal is the new oral. That is, oral used to be considered "out there," very risque, not something "nice" people did. Now it is pretty mainstream (except to my husband). George suggests that anal sex (which I would expand to assplay generally) is currently where oral used to be. Something that is gaining more acceptance, but is still considered something that "wild" people do, not "nice" people. I need to give this more thought, perhaps generate an essay exploring this proposition.

In the checkout line at the grocery store, I had a lot of time to peruse the covers of the myriad tabloids. Am I the only one who doesn't particularly give a shit who has custody of Britney's kids or about Nicole's baby or how skinny Angelina's gotten? Am I the only one who doesn't have a clue who some of the people featured on these covers are? LC? Vanessa? Not a single clue.

I've been thinking about my upcoming birthday. 40 years. A long damn time to be on this earth. I posted previously about my apparent midlife crisis. It's just not waning. I'm restless and dissatisfied with my life. Pathetic. Birthday is less than 2 weeks away now. Looming. So long as the in-laws can take the kids, Spousehole has agreed to take me to Cedar Point for my birthday. So at least I'll get some roller coaster action, if not some "other" action.

Been thinking a lot of about the nature of relationships - platonic, emotionally intense/romantic, and physical relationships and how they intertwine. Or don't. My relationship with my husband can be any of these, or all of these, from day to day. My relationship with PiC is both platonic and sexual, but not emotional beyond friendship. Another relationship in my life is more complicated. I care for this person a great deal. I have a strong emotional attachment to him, even though I have never met him in person. I can't stop thinking about him. I want desperately to meet him in person, but am terrified of actually doing so. If I do, I will want to kiss him, hold him, touch him, make love to him. I will want to give myself to him completely. But I can't do that, not long-term at least. My heart is not mine to give away. I've given it my husband. It is his, no longer mine. I am not what this other person needs right now. He is in a vulnerable place and I don't want to take advantage of that. I would be bad for him. Very bad. He's a good person and I am most decidedly NOT a good person. He needs and deserves better.

But I can't stop thinking about him.

I really, really need to get laid. That would take my mind off him, at least for a little while. PiC may call me later, if things work out. I hope so. I need a diversion. I need to feel his hands on my body, his mouth on my breasts. I want him to fill my mouth with his gorgeous thick cock, his hand gently brushing the hair away from my face so he can see me licking and sucking him. I want to hear him sigh as I caress his balls, hear him moan as I stroke his sensitive rosebud first with a finger, then, eliciting a deeper, more primal moan, my tongue. I need his fingers inside me, as his tongue dances over my sex, working its magic until I'm lost in the feeling, all other thoughts banished as he coaxes an explosive orgasm from my willing body. I want him to tell me again how weak I leave him after I've sucked every last drop from him and kissed him deeply, sharing with him his own taste. I want him to hold me tight as our breathing returns to normal, as we return to the real world from the fantasy one we create together.

Okay, that's not helping either.

We did finally get more information on Boy's school change. They decided he needed to be in a classroom with higher functioning kids, so that's why he was moved. It is a good thing for him, since all his classmates will be high-functioning like Boy. They are verbal and most will spend at least some time in general ed, like Boy. It's the type of classroom I was advocating for all along. It's a good move; they just should have contacted me about it. Apparently, TPTB made this decision in JUNE, but this is the first I'm hearing of it. That is frustrating. Especially frustrating was when a secretary, who couldn't tell me why the change was made replied to my concern about not having been contacted by saying "Well, we did contact you. You got the letter that prompted you to call, didn't you?" Bitch.

My son was walking around the house yesterday in a firefighter's jacket and no pants/underpants. Now if I can only get his Daddy to wear that outfit. ;)

I guess I'm just restless today. I need a distraction, something to pull me from inside my own head. I'll go read all your blogs. Maybe that will help.