I truly appreciate the many things that my husband does for me, but more importantly why he does them.  It has to do with his heart, the kind of man that he is inside.  No doubt, I have been physically attracted to him ever since we met in high school…everything about him turns me on but I also love what’s on the inside. He is loving, kind, gentle, faithful and forgiving. He has this incredible mind…I love to watch him work through problems that most of us would give up on (or never even begin to attempt). And he makes me laugh! We have so much fun together that it ought to be illegal! We love to do things together…some times they are cerebral in nature. Just a few minutes ago, he shared some cool thing that he found on-line. A gal that has truly been blessed with mathematical/musical genius. Google Vi Hart and you will see what I mean. We enjoy sharing music with one another…music videos or songs from the past when our love was young. We love all kinds of music but somehow those songs that are a “blast from the past” arouse feelings as if we were 16 and 17 yrs. of age again.

My life couldn’t be more wonderful and I am so thankful for my husband…he is my very best friend, my lover, my helpmate, my partner in everything in life. We have never been happier than we are right now. We feel a contentment that most people never feel…a connection that is out of reach for most. Tonight when we go to bed, we will snuggle up tight, two becoming one. Maybe we will bosom; if we do it is the icing on the cake that I enjoy every day of my life. To my husband, I would be lost without you, but with you, I have everything I need.

Happy Valentine’s Day to my DH,

Luvmyhub

I was so fortunate to attend a Lactation Fetish and ANR support group meeting last night. Some of us got together and spent a few hours talking about our experiences and answering each other’s questions. There were five women present and two men, including my husband. Three of us women are currently lactating for adults or our ourselves, and two of the ladies were there to learn and consider their own journey. Other had RSVP-ed and could not make it. We hope to do it again.

I am not about to give the location out, simply because my blog here is so personal, and I have decided to keep my location as vague as possible. I met the others on a website for fetishes, FetLife.com. The site has some informative groups on lactation that I will be including in my links on the side of the page soon. I was pleasantly surprised to see the hundreds if not thousands of FetLife readers who are interested in lactation.

One of the ladies I have met through the site has become my closest friend, (outside of my husband.) She did not know that re-inducing was possible until after I had met her, but her interest in it lead us to more conversations, and we quickly became close friends. Our husbands are also friends. Needless to say, this is beyond anything I ever imagined for myself. After almost three years of not speaking openly about lactation, face to face, with anyone but my husband, I now have close friends and many acquaintances with who I can be open to, and accepted.

I like to think that my blog and many of the other blogs that have been around for the last few years are making a difference in the willingness of others to consider adding this extremely intimate relationship to their lives. In any case, I feel rewarded for my past efforts, and I am glad I can share this good news with you.

(As a journal entry, this is three and a quarter years into my journey.)

His Milkmaid

In the book, Norman writes about how we as children use our imagination to add fun to our lives. I agree with him, that it is a shame that as adults we often lose that capability.

There are some adults who role play through the form of video games. That is deemed “normal” for adults. Yet, erotic role play in the bedroom has become something we don’t talk about, as if it is taboo.

Of course many of us don’t talk to our friends about the details of our bedroom life, but even talking about erotic role play as a general topic is something people find embarrassing. It is often the butt of jokes and scripts on comedian shoes. It is great to be able to laugh, but we shouldn’t regulate imaginative sex to a place of ridicule.

In his book, Norman gives script ideas for couples who lack imagination or simply like to start with an idea and take it on their own from there. I am not going to go so far as to recommend buying the book. If you have any imagination at all, you don’t need to purchase it. If you have ten bucks to blow and a kindle to read when you get bored, and most importantly, you can stand grammar that is on par or worse than mine, then maybe.

Mostly I just wanted to bring up the idea. I recommend that you talk to your spouse about it. You can use my post as a spring board for your conversation. Then take an at home date night and lock yourselves in the bedroom. Make some preparations before hand if necessary. If you both have an idea of what role you are going to play, you can think about your part and what you might do or say. You might even dress for it.

Hey, how about starting off with a farmer and a milkmaid.
Guys love it when their ladies become a wildcat.
Guys can be a knight in shining armor.
How about taking him or her prisoner?
A little part time sex slave or bondage?
Butler or maid etc.

Really get into it and have a good time.

As you play and have fun together, you might find you want to quietly extend the roles of a week or more at a time. You will have this little insider information to carry around between you.

You might find you have a dominant or submissive personality as each one of you takes a certain type of role. Who is going to be the policeman or policewoman for example? If you see a pattern develop, I suggest you can read up on “sensual power exchange.” I have found it very self enlightening for us as a couple. Our ANR fits in nicely. If you live in a traditional “HOH,” (husband is head of the home,) like us, then you already have a form of power exchange that isn’t readily acceptable to modern society.  “Don’t knock it until you try it.” LOL.

The previous post is an erotic story that describes a sensual power exchange and has some imaginative wonder to it. Some of you were wondering where it came from. Now you know. Read the post before that, and you will see it coming. All this self honesty and discovery, all the safe vulnerability to play, letting out secret fantasies, and our acceptance of our kinky fetishes; a close relationship is what makes it all possible. I credit the closeness to our ANR.

Lap Bitch

My master sits and pats his lap. I know it means, “Come.”

Like an obedient bitch, I pause only long enough to smile with my whole body and take in the thought of what we are about to do. Then I climb on his lap, straddling, with a knee on each side of his hips, and my breast level with his face.

Immediately my breasts perk up, and my nipples come alive. He will admire them for a while before tenderly teasing them. I am not sure who is getting the most enjoyment. We both groan.

When neither of us can stand the teasing any longer, he grabs a breast. All the tenderness of his approach has given way to his lust. He takes my nipple into his mouth and draws it tight with the first few sucks to the back of his tongue. The vacuum is tight ,and it pleasantly hurts a little. Then from behind my nipple I feel the “pins and needles” feeling
of my milk letting down. The vacuum disappears. He responds with a moan at the
taste of my milk. At this point I usually lose my composure.

I melt. My hands go to his head. Without losing the conscious feeling of his mashing grip of my breast and the rhythm of his lips on my nipple, my fingers become tentacles. The tips of them take in the cut ends of his short hair, and that contrasts with the overall silky and velvety coating it gives his scalp.  I bend my head over and pull a short snip of hair through my teeth. I take in the smell of his hair as I taste it.

From there my fingers travel down his neck and over his bare shoulders. I feel every crease in his neck, every bump and fine hair across his shoulders and down his arms.

There is a positive charge of energy coming from him through my fingers. Energy is flowing out of my breasts back into him. Then like a light bulb turning on, I become aware of the pulsating between my thighs. Is it originating from him or me? There is heat, hardness, wetness, and all these other sensations drawing my attention.

My thoughts are interrupted for only a minute second as he lets go of one breast and eagerly attaches to the other. My focus returns to my breasts, then my finger tips, and again back below my hips. I begin to grind and gyrate, something searching, until we connect and lock, like a piston in its chamber.

Just when I think I am on sensory overload, he begins to drag his finger nails down my back; slowly, slowly, and again slowly. The firmly applied sharpness of his fingertips sends tingles down my spine, while the heat and hardness below me sends vibrations upward. All the while his lips never leave my nipple.

My finger tips dig into the muscle under his shoulders. My breath changes, my moaning changes, my spine goes stiff and my thighs squeeze his. Then, without any conscious effort, my body does the lap dance that all other lap dances can only mimic.

I scream.

I melt again; like jello my arms fall to my side, and my head rests on his. There is the smell of his hair again. I try to bring my breathing back under control. I become aware of him, still attached to my breast, and his arms wrapped around me.

He lets go of my nipple and smiles.

11/08/2011 Loving It (an pen name I adopted many years ago for erotica)
This was written by me, and may only be used with my permission.

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.