Come.

Faults; we all have them. Mistakes; we all make them. Sometimes they’re little ones that we manage to display frequently, as if they are a part of who we are as a person. Heaven knows I have my share of character flaws that drive others crazy and taste to me, like humble pie. Then there are the other kind; the big doozies, the hopefully “only one-timers” that can be forgiven if they don’t become a pattern.

Some days, my character flaws, mistakes, and even my meanness… stand out more to me than others. After one of those doozies I begin to wonder if I will still find acceptance from those who it matters most to me. I am not hoping for my actions to find acceptance, just “me.” Will “I” still be accepted?  When I find that I still am, I know that I am loved.

I think my oldest “entering adulthood” son must have made this connection too. There was a time a couple years back, that he made sure that he came home and told me of his actions that he knew I would not approve of. I could tell by the questioning look that I was being tested, or rather that my love for him was being tested. Each time the next situation would be more outrageous than the previous one. After it was made clear that I would never condone his actions and there would be consequences, but that I would always accept him and love him as my son, the testing stopped.

Well, who sees our faults and has to deal with them more than our spouse? After years of marriage we have had plenty of opportunity to mess up. Forgiveness is not always found quickly, even when the love is genuine. It seems no one can hurt us as much as those closest to us. We are more vulnerable to them. Of course that goes both ways. We have more power to hurt those we love or who love us. Everything matters more, because we matter more to each other. Acceptance of our most hidden quirks can be like that. It can take time to come to grips with them or just actually weigh what place in our lives together it has played, or will play in the future.

Recently, my husband and I had a getaway weekend. There was a lot of nakedness in more than the obvious way. I feel like we got to see parts of each other that we have kept hidden over our quarter of a century marriage. It wasn’t so much faults, as it was quirks… but maybe they would be taken as faults… They were those parts of us that we knew without love and devotion to color our glasses, might cause rejection. Quirky, kinky, or just odd, it is amazing after all these years to find there is more freedom to experience and explore ourselves and each other further than before. Secrets and desires were not only told to each other, but also self revealed.  I hadn’t even know things about myself that I learned that weekend.

There we were all alone in a special time we had carved out for ourselves. It was very dreamy, and reality of life beyond that weekend was shut out. Everything was so romantic and our location gave us complete seclusion. We were in our own little world.

The morning came when it was time to pack up and go home to our real world of schedules and responsibilities. It was like waking up, wondering quietly to myself how much of it was perhaps just parts of  dreams in the little sleep we got during the nights. As we were on the road towards home, we began discussing our agendas of the coming work week. We also talked about the kids and the normal topics that revolve around them.

More than a week has went by, and our conversations have only skimmed the surface of that weekend. There is even more twinkle in our eyes… that “we have shared secrets” or mischievousness. There was no guarantee that it was going to turn out this way, and I am not sure where this is leading us.

The sure thing is the continued acceptance. It doesn’t have to be spoken. We know it still exists every time I cup a breast to offer it to him, and he buries his face in my bosom.

Yesterday was a busy day for my man. He made it home for lunch and dinner, but bosoming was crowded off the priority list by the need to return quickly to work. 

My heart and my breasts ached all day. I am trying to find words to describe it. It was worse than disappointment, worse than hunger and greater than need. It wasn’t a feeling of rejection, because I understood the reasons. Yet there was that deep aching pain, that intense longing both emotionally and physically. 

You just can not quiet the aching breast. I kept trying to find solace in the idea that bedtime bosoming was a sure thing. Ten o’clock came and went, then eleven. We finally climbed the stairs like zombies and dropped in bed after 2 am. For the first night since I can remember, there was no bedtime bosoming, but I too, could not stay awake a moment longer. I fretted in my sleep, wondering where our commitment to bring back the flow of milk went. I dreaded the morning with the thought that maybe he had changed his mind; maybe it was rejection after all. 

The alarm went off at 6am, just three and a half hours later. I actually expected him to reach over and re-set it, using our normal bosoming time for more sleep instead. 

My doubts and fears were laid waste by the intense eagerness in the pull on my nipples. I sighed loudly, and whispered in relief, “I was worried that you had changed your mind.” He came up for air just enough to emphatically say, “No way!” Then as if to prove it, he attacked my nipple with passion, almost burying it in his throat.

As always and forever, I am Luvmyhub

How blessed I am to have found “the One”. My husband and I are so in tune that it scares me sometimes. He seems to know me better than I know myself and at other times I am unsure if the time we have left to live will enable us to even scratch the surface. We’ve been married for over 6 years and in many ways we feel that we are just getting started. Catching up for lost time…he was my H.S. sweetheart many, many years ago. When we reunited some 27 yrs. later, that butterfly feeling returned as if we had just met. I am getting the flutters as I type this…tears forming.

This morning we had a very special bosom session. We were catching up for lost time. How exciting it was…I am forever grateful for this time in our lives. Every encounter is precious to me for we never know when our best friend, lover and spouse will cease to exist (or ourselves for that matter). I want to live each and every day as if it is our last, but this summer heat zaps my energy. My heart, mind and soul desire it though, each and every day.

Yes, I suppose it could get even hotter outside…but I much prefer the heat we create inside! It reminds me of that old song, “Fever” or “Steam Heat”! I know that some of you out there know what I am talking about. I keep waiting for the day that my twenty-something year-old daughters come to me and say, “Mom, you will never believe what I just read in Cosmo!…there are women who nurse  their lovers…it’s called ANR…Can you believe that”? Geez, how will I respond…maybe, “Oh Honey, that’s old news” (laughing nervously) or will I say, “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it”! I can see their jaws dropping in disbelief. LOL.

May the love that you share with your soul mate continue to blossom and grow with each new day; try to keep cool out in this summer heat.

Please feel free to write and share your thoughts…as always, I will keep you anonymous if you prefer.

Blessings to all,

Luvmyhub

I raised my garden a few weeks ago and planted cool weather plants; started seeds inside to be trans-planted later. Everything just seems so fresh and new. I feel younger somehow during this time of year. My arthritis doesn’t act up as much and I don’t feel as stiff when I wake up simply because I am more active when the weather is warmer…kind of like a reptile…LOL!

And is there anything better than bosoming and making love with the windows open and a slight breeze blowing through the room. Just me and my hubby…the only two people in the world (or so it seems) loving, pleasuring and nurturing  one another in ways that only we can. My husband is the ONLY man that has ever truly loved me; aside of my own father…but I’m talking about Romantic Love. Dad used to say that true love is a verb, an action word…it has feet. Love is demonstrated through actions. My DH knows me so well, sometimes better than I know myself. He understands my needs and provides a back or foot rub whenever I need it MOST…he demonstrates his love in so many ways I find myself on a mission to love and care for him in every way possible. Truly I think we sometimes try to “outlove” one another…not out of competition, but out of a true desire to love one another to the fullest extent.

We are not promised tomorrow; I want to use each and every day as an opportunity to love my husband better, longer, and deeper…who knows when a simple kiss goodbye may be our last. My father passed away 6 yrs. ago…it still hurts, especially when I see my mother’s loneliness. Dad truly loved my mom.
Cling not to worldly possessions but to those people that you love; they are the only things that truly last.

May you have a blessed spring day as you ponder the ones you love and demonstrate your love for them.

Lovingly,
Luvmyhub