Some noise must have woken her up from her nightmare, and she stared into the inky blackness, thankful she was awake. As she went to rub the sleep from her eyes, she realized it was not a dream nor a nightmare. Her hands really were tied to the headboard, and the soreness she felt all over proved it was not a dream.

She hadn’t seen him when she came in last night, glad that the kids were gone for the weekend. She’d hung up her keys and barely walked into the living room when he reached from behind her and covered her mouth with his large hand. He played with her hair as he pushed her towards the recliner and leaned her up against its back. She tried to struggle, but he whispered in her ears to be silent or he would have to hurt her. She stood there in shock as he fondled her breasts, slowly undressing her and and rocking against her at the same time.

He led her to the couch and tied her hands above her head. She pleaded with him to not gag her and promised to cooperate. However, he warned her that if she screamed she would only have the time to scream once, and she would be punished.

At first, it seemed like he was going to tie her legs to the end of the couch, but instead he decided to hold onto them and spread them apart while he kissed and licked her thighs. She moaned and tried to close her legs, but he slapped her ass and told her to cooperate. He continued licking a path up her thighs until he got to the place she’d never let anyone touch that way. Her mewings didn’t matter as she pleaded with him to stop, and the more she tried to stop him, the more he spread her legs and had his way. Finally, once she was wet, he took his fingers and entered her and started touching her insides like no man had ever done before. She couldn’t help but cum so much that she leaked on the couch while he smiled and licked her clean. Even now, thinking about it, she realized she would never be able to get the stain out.

After she reached a point of total exhaustion from having so many orgasms, he tied her legs to the couch and said he’d let her rest. Shortly before he walked away, he reached out and brushed the back of his hand against her neck and then towards her breasts. He whispered, “Remember, I’ll be watching you.” He then put his finger against her lips and warned her to not make a sound lest he’d have to gag her.

As he let her up from the couch, he accompanied her to the restroom where he let her freshen up, and then he put the nightgown on her. He held the underwear back and told her that she wouldn’t be needing them and caressed her ass as he pulled her towards the front doorway. He told her it was time for Act Two in this weekend of “Holiday Pleasure”, as he called it.

Before opening the front door, he put his hand to her lips and reminded her that any scream or attempt to get away would be harshly punished, and then he escorted her out to the back of her van.

While she’d been sleeping, he’d set up a small bed in the back – complete with a couple of her fluffiest comforters and pillows. He helped her climb into the back of the van and closed the door behind them. Before she knew what was happening, he had both of her feet and was using handcuffs to have them held up against the headrest of her front seat. She tried to twist and turn, and that was when he put his hands on either side of her head and started kissing her and holding her down. He moved one hand to her breast and proceeded to fondle her roughly, and told her that he could be very rough and mean or kind, and that the choice was hers. He assured her that he knew exactly what he was doing, and when she tried to pull away one more time, he gagged her and handcuffed her to the back of the van.

She was now totally exposed to him, and he made sure to taunt her as he took toys out of a small bag he’d brought with him.

As she finally broke down and came again, and again, he whispered, “You see, I’ve been watching you. I know what you like and what you need.”

She laid there exhausted, thankful that it was the middle of the night and no one could see them. He pulled off her nightgown and played with her breasts and teased her for a bit. Then he untied her and made her go back to the house – totally naked – risking being seen by the neighbors.

Once they were in the house again, he took her to the bathroom, where he tied her to the shower head while he took his time to smell the various scented gels and decide which to use on her. All she could smell was raspberry as he covered her all over with the foam, working it into her body with his strong hands. She felt his breath when he kneeled behind her to rub the soap into her legs, and she heard his sigh as he worked on her thighs.

She decided this might be her chance to stop him, and she kicked backwards, aiming for his head. Unfortunately, he saw the movement coming and grabbed her foot.

He whispered in her ear, “So that is how you want to play this scene – huh? Ok – enough of the toys. This time I’m going to be the one taking you.” He put something in her mouth, she had no idea what so she couldn’t scream, as he soaped her up and started to finger her. She tried to kick and bite as he bent her over and entered her cunt, and took his time. From time to time, she could feel him stop and start to pull out and relax. Once he rubbed her ass and told her that he was going to take as much time as he wanted – that he’d earned this from her, and she was going to give it to him.

Finally she felt him shudder as he came and then his sigh as he cleaned her up and wrapped her in a towel and led her to the bed. She tried to fight when he tied her hands, and he had to sit on her to tie her feet down. He whispered in her ear, “Get some rest, but remember, I’ll be watching you.”

Now she laid there thinking about all that had happened. It was so familiar to her – almost like deja vu. That’s when it hit her…how she recognized what he was doing.

He’d force her under her desk and make her give him a blowjob and then make her kneel over the desk while he took her one more time.

However, this man wasn’t like the man in her stories. This man was giving her pleasure and only taking pleasure for himself when she taunted him or pushed him too far.

Suddenly, she realized how he knew which toys she loved and how she used them. They’d corresponded on the forum. He’d reached out to her because he liked her reviews and her thoughts on the forum. He was frustrated in his sex life because his wife had no real interest in sex most of the time, and she was always on the computer. She’d wanted to help and tried to reach out to him with suggestions for specific toys and tips on how she’d used them. She’d even shared the link to some of her erotica, and he’d written back how inspired he was by it.

Now he was using it against her – or was it for her? He was making her stories come to life – but only to bring her pleasure. What was she to do now – when he returned? Should she tell him she knew his identity? Would that bring this to an end?

She heard his footsteps at the door as he approached, and she still had no idea what she should do.

But she was convinced of one thing. He had been watching her.

Dear Lady,

We wanted to write and share our thoughts with you, because as your wardrobe, your looks are a reflection on us. We see you as a “big beautiful curvaceous woman” but you only see yourself as “plus size” and consider it a bad thing. It isn’t a bad thing though, and we have some things we want to share with you.

First of all, stop wearing dark colors all the time. Yes, black makes you look slimmer and dark colors help too. But for crying out loud woman, you need a bit of life in your wardrobe. Did you know that your best colors are really blues and reds and purples? We know you look at them longingly while you’re out in the store, but then you go and buy dark colors because you feel you can’t wear the colors you want to wear. STOP THAT! You are drawn to those colors because they will look good on you. Go ahead and wear dark pants and skirts if you must – but please – bring some color up next to your face. Trust us – people will be less likely to notice your butt or hips if they’re drawn upward to your face.

And speaking of clothes — stop buying cheap quality clothes because you feel you don’t deserve better. That’s a lie. You deserve nice things too. Stop shopping at only the discount stores. If you have to shop online — that’s ok. It’s ok to go to nicer stores and find pretty things on sale too. We’re not saying you have to spend a fortune. But buy nicer quality clothes because they’ll fit you better, and you’ll feel better about yourself.

Did you know that you can even pay FULL PRICE for something for yourself and the world won’t end? It’s true — find one item that you really love and pay full price. Trust us — every time you put it on you’ll remember that feeling of “I’m worth the full price”, and you’ll love to wear that item. Who knows — maybe someday you’ll even be able to buy clothes that aren’t on sale?

While we’re at it — we have a few more tips for you.

Stop buying clothes that are too big for you because you don’t like a part of your figure. Sometimes it’s nice to show some curves — even if it is your breasts. We were so proud of you when you broke down and bought that size 20 shirt that you loved when you normally buy size 22/24. That even made you brave enough to try on the 16/18 top, (ok…so it was black) and you realized that you were buying clothes TWO SIZES too large for your tops. We practically jumped for joy when that little black number made it into the closet. WAY TO GO! Now keep it up — only remember — colors look better on you than black.

In addition — throw out all that old underwear and those yucky bras and get some that aren’t “granny-style”. You know what we mean — even your granny would probably be embarrassed to wear them! Get yourself some comfortable undergarments that support you and some pretty panties or comfortable panties that make you feel like a woman. You’re not a clown or elephant or any of those other labels you use for yourself.

Speaking of undergarments — get at least one piece of lingerie that makes you feel sexy. Do it for you — not for him. You deserve to feel pretty and sexy because you really are that way deep inside.

Well — those are our tips for you. We’re happy to see you’re wearing a tiny hint of makeup now and some perfume, and we’re thrilled to see that you even spent money and bought yourself quality shoes for your new walking program. Sure they were over $100, but they were an investment in your health.

Just don’t forget us — some of us need to be “retired” as we’ve gotten holes or stretched too much.  Some of us would prefer to move on to another woman who needs our large sizes instead of hiding your figure. And others of us are just waiting for you to realize that we’ll make you look pretty if you just add us to something with color.

We believe in you – now believe in yourself.

Sincerely,
Your Clothes

I make no secret of the fact that I’ve been married for 31 years, and I am a strong believer in marriage. I also believe that anything can be worked through IF both partners are willing to make the marriage work. I believe it takes a lot of love and trust, and especially forgiveness to make a marriage work.

Since joining EdenFantasys, I’ve learned about other lifestyles I had never considered. I always knew about the gay/lesbian lifestyle, but I had never before experienced people who had “open” marriages, and I really thought swinging was something from back in the 70’s. I had no idea that it was really done in today’s culture. I’ve also learned about polyamory and the idea of loving more than one person and being in a relationship with them. I’ve learned more about BDSM and relationships like “master/slave”. I must admit that my eyes have been opened to realize that the world was not as I once thought it was. Yes, I was naive. I admit it.

One thing that bothers me, though, is that I frequently hear people express that monogamy isn’t “normal”. They say that you don’t see it among animals, and that it is more normal to have several partners. They often claim that people have been “forced” into monogamy by society because it is the only acceptable thing.

I disagree with this mindset, and I find it offensive that people don’t understand that I can choose to make the choice to be monogamous and be happy with my choice. Why am I wrong for choosing to be with only one partner and they’re right for choosing multiple partners? Can we not both be right in our choices for our lives?

I will admit that monogamy is not common in the animal kingdom and that only something like 3-5% of animals (if that) are monogamous. However, there are some who are “wired” for monogamy and live that way. I guess what I’m trying to say – is that while monogamy may not be for everyone – whether we are talking about animals or humans – it is for some.

I also would like to point out that monogamy is not just a one-time decision that I made. Every day I remake that decision as I’m faced with what could be options to be with other people if I wanted to look. Every day I once again choose my husband as my only life partner and sexual partner. I don’t do this because society says so – because if you look at society you will see that the views on divorce have changed so that it is no longer unacceptable. Cheating on one’s spouse almost seems to be the norm these days, and most people have had more than one marriage.

No – I make this choice because it is the one I want to make for MY life.

I don’t ask others to live the same way. I just ask that they understand that while they may choose different lifestyles and expect me to respect their choice (and I do) – I would like them to understand that I do choose monogamy of my own free will and like it that way. Please respect my choice also.

I am always amazed when my husband says he thinks I’m beautiful. I look at my body and wonder just what it is that he’s been drinking lately because he certainly can’t be seeing the same thing I see.  For instance, I see stretch marks from a pregnancy with twins. I see the bikini cut scar of an emergency C-section. I can’t help but notice several scars from tubes in my body during a month when I was hospitalized. Perhaps the hardest thing for me to deal with is the 9″ scar from an incision that was done for two surgeries.

I look at my breasts and mourn the fact that for years I went braless as much as possible, for now they hang and look horrid. I look at my body and regret all the times I chowed down on chocolate and potato chips now that I am trying to take that excess weight off. I look at my fingers and sometimes cry that I can’t find pretty feminine rings in size 12.

However, my husband looks at me and see things differently. He sees the marks of a woman who bore his two children and suffered through a pregnancy that was high risk for both her and the kids. The bikini cut scar reminds him that I carry with me the reminder of what I went through to have those children for both of us. The marks from the tubes in my abdomen and the 9″ scar remind him that he almost lost me when a gall bladder surgery went bad and over five liters of bile built up in my abdomen and almost poisoned me to death. When he looks at my breasts, he doesn’t see the sags as much as he sees the opportunity to play and have fun. While he knows I’m frustrated with my body shape and size, he never belittles me, but only encourages me to do my best.

I see the flaws – he sees the memories and rejoices in the fact that he still has me in his life.

I think sometimes that we need to look at others much the same way that my husband looks at me. As we see their flaws, we need to look beyond them to the person inside. I think of the woman who has rough dry hands because she’s spent years working to provide for her family. The woman who has a not-so-fashionable haircut because she uses that money to buy her child clothes and food. There are those out there who can’t have a new wardrobe every year or add to their wardrobe, because all of their money is going into supporting a family member or simply meeting the basic needs of life.

Starting with myself, I want to encourage us to look at beauty not as just an outward thing but learn to look at the “flaws” and “scars” that others might have and recognize that some of the most beautiful things do not come simply from looks.

For many people, holidays are not joy-filled or fun. They don’t feel like laughing, and they don’t even want to be around others. Instead, they fight depression, on a seasonal or even daily basis.

I’ve struggled with cyclical depression for years and have learned some tips that I use now whenever I feel a bout of depression coming on.

• Give yourself a limited time to rest/run away from others. I allow myself one day to lay in bed and hate everything about my life. Sometimes this is enough to help me start feeling better because I was overtired to begin with.

• Make sure you’re drinking enough WATER. It is easy to drink sodas, and coffee, and tea, and energy drinks, and that is fine. But your body also needs water, and if you don’t get enough fluids it can make you tired and help you to feel drained.

• Eat three meals a day. When I’m depressed, the last thing I want to do is eat, and I will often forget to eat. I have to force myself to eat three good meals and not just snack on sweets or salty items.

• Get outside for at least 10 minutes per day. There is something about the fresh air (and hopefully sunshine) that helps to pick me up.

• Listen to music that is upbeat and you enjoy. I like to put on something with a beat and try to make myself do a bit of oldies. Other times, when I need to rest, I like to listen to instrumental hymns and praise music, because they help me to calm down. Find something that works for you, whether it be music or movies or tv shows.

• Start a gratitude journal and list at least three things every day that you’re thankful for. Sometimes I’m just thankful that the day didn’t go worse than it did! But I find that having an “attitude of gratitude” really helps me to get my mind off myself, and it helps the depression to lift at least a little bit.

• Don’t pull away from others. This is probably the hardest thing for me to do – to reach out to people and say, “I need help”. I have friends who will contact me if we haven’t talked every week or two, because they know I have cyclical depression, and they want to make sure I’m ok. By being honest with them and sharing that I have this, they sometimes recognize the signs of an “attack of depression” and will reach out to me before I’m ready to work towards overcoming it.

Living with depression isn’t easy and you can’t always get over it with a few simple steps. Sometimes you need to add medication to your life, or receive help from a counselor.

I’ve learned that I can work my way through a depressive episode somewhat faster if I follow these steps.

[box]ANYONE can participate in the EdenVlog topic of the month and get a gift card to EdenFantasys for doing it! Just record yourself talking about the topic and upload the finished product to EdenTube. Then email Rayne at rayne(at)edenfantasys( d0t)com with a link and your profile information![/box]

dancing on the walls: You see it in commercials for feminine products of all shapes and sizes. A woman with long flowing hair and clothes–usually a twirly skirt–and limbs spin under godrays on some sort of wall. A natural stone one on the beach, or a cliff, or the crumbling wall of some old, forgotten village.

I always dreamed of wearing a dress where the skirt swirled as I danced on a wall. My partner would hold my hand as I danced and giggled and laughed, and then he would pull me into his arms and hold me close and kiss me. For years, this was one of my cherished fantasies of what it would be like to be pretty.

It finally came true. While my newlywed husband and I were visiting my dad, my stepsister helped me fix up my hair, and she did my makeup and then helped me get into a dress that was too big for her and a tiny bit snug for me – but I was able to wear it and make the skirt twirl. My excitement knew no bounds because I was finally pretty, and I was on my way to the church I’d grown up in with my husband. I knew I was gonna knock them dead.

I walked down the stairs and preened for my husband and dad and stepmom, twirling the skirt and having such fun. My dad smiled because he’d never seen me this way. However, my husband blew it when he answered my “Do you like it?” with a response of, “Um..its nice..but you’re a big girl and built like an ox, and that style doesn’t really look good on you.”

OUCH.

I ran back to the bedroom in tears while my father took my new husband aside and tried to explain to him about tact and women. To be honest, it really is a shame that my husband was brought up without being educated on the finer points of tact, and how you can be honest and yet not hurt someone.

“Built like an ox….built like an ox…” haunted me for the next 30 years. It looked like I would never have my dream of twirly skirts and feminine clothing because, as my husband put it, I had “broad shoulders and a full breast”.

For the next 10 years or so, I didn’t really care about what I wore. What did it matter if there was no way I could be pretty? Who wants to look at an ox wearing a lacy nightgown – know what I mean?

Then I started reading about seasons of color and studying what colors looked best on me. I started wearing the colors that made me look better, and while I didn’t twirl my skirts anymore, I at least felt a little bit good about what I was wearing. Until I went away to college, my mom had bought all of my clothes, and they were pretty much in her styles and colors. Now I understood why I hated fuschia and loved mustard and greens, and even peach in the summer. I decided that even if I couldn’t be pretty, I could at least wear colors that I liked. I also started shopping at Cato, because they had younger styles of clothes than what I had been wearing.

I still dreamed of twirling skirts and dancing on the walls and kicking my legs out, but couldn’t bring myself to that point yet.

A few years ago, though, I did start to wear those skirts, and I started learning about what styles of tops looked great on me. I may not be dancing on the walls, but I was loving the way I looked…somewhat. But then I’d look at my grandma-style underwear and bras and think, “I wish I could look pretty underneath too.”

I joined EdenFantasys website a few weeks ago, and thanks to the encouragement of another member, I finally got up the courage to do something I’d dreamed of for years. I ordered myself a red bustier corset set that included a g-string. Wow. I’d never done anything like that before. But I love red, and I wanted something that made me feel not only pretty, but sexy, even if I am a large woman.

The day it arrived, I tried it on anxiously, and when my husband saw it, he loved it, largely because he knew I liked it. As he rubbed his hands over me, and I felt the sensual material rub against my skin, I finally understood what had been missing for me all along.

I needed sexy things for me. It didn’t matter as much if my husband liked them as it did that I liked them. I needed the sensual feel, and I needed to be able to look in the mirror and see myself wearing a lacy bra and lacy underwear.

So I went shopping and added those things to my wardrobe, along with some pretty lingerie.

I feel like a totally different woman now. Why did it take me over 50 years to accept the fact that I could be pretty, even as a plus size gal? I have no idea.

But I have learned a valuable lesson from this. They say pretty is in the eyes of the beholder. While that may be true, I think it also needs to be in the heart of the one who is being seen. They have to accept the fact that they are pretty, despite any scars or size issues, and they need to find the things that make them feel pretty.

My husband has said for years that I was pretty to him because he loves my character and who I am inside, and that makes me beautiful to him. I am so glad for his faithfulness and his acceptance and love of me. But I had to reach the point where I could finally say to myself, “I feel pretty…oh so pretty.”  Sometimes I even dance around the room twirling my skirts as I sing it to myself – because I know it is true. I am pretty.

What is the Christian church doing about AIDS?

I want to start out by stating that “World Aids Day” is totally new to me. I’m not sure how long it has been around, but I am thankful that Eden Cafe brought it to my attention.

As a conservative Christian in a small town, AIDS is not something I have ever had to deal with. Because of this, I’ve never really thought about it and how it can affect the lives of others. I knew that it affected adults and children, and that it was deadly, and people were often ostracized once they received a diagnosis of AIDS. I also knew of the term, “AIDS Cocktail” to describe the combination of medications that victims had to take.

That was the extent of my knowledge about AIDS and the whole AIDS epidemic. Because it didn’t touch me or my life or those around me, I never thought about it.

After reading about what EdenFantasys and Eden Cafe is doing this year, I decided to go on google and find out about the “church” (in general – not a specific denomination) and AIDS, to see what is being done. I wasn’t sure if I would find anything worth writing about – but it was worth a try.

I immediately disregarded some of the first few links that came up. They were judgmental and talked more about the gay lifestyle and how wrong it was or how it caused AIDS. I was wondering if I would find anything positive to share about.

It took me a bit, but I did find a few links that interested me. The organization I’m about to share about intrigued me the most. I think one of the reasons that I found it so fascinating was because it involved breast milk that was banked by healthy mothers to help provide care for babies with AIDS. Many times these babies are orphaned when their parents die of AIDS, and they are taken into a transitional home, which houses up to six babies at a time while looking for adoptive parents for the infants.

The organization’s name is iThemba Lethu, which means ‘I have a destiny’. Their vision is to restore the destiny to babies and young people whose futures are at risk of being negatively impacted by the affects of HIV/AIDS.

There are two transitional homes available for the infants, and they are housed there until placed with suitable homes, which can be foster homes, an adoptive home, or with an extended family member. Children from birth to three years old are taken into this program.

The program actually has four main emphases and they are:

• Running the two transition homes for babies that are orphaned or abandoned due to HIV/AIDS.
• Screening and training prospective parents.
• Assist in the placing of children.
• Oversee the running of the breastmilk bank.

I think that the breastmilk bank fascinated me the most, because it is something I would never have considered, even though I know breastmilk is supposed to be healthier than formula. According to their website, there are about 20 mothers who are donating about 250 ml of breastmilk per day. They receive training in how to express and store the milk, and are given a pump and bottles and assigned a donor number. The milk is frozen by the donors at the end of each day and then collected by the staff of the bank. At the bank, the breastmilk is stored and pasteurized as needed, and whatever is not used by the transitional homes is provided to other HIV/AIDS orphanages and babies’ homes.

One of the reasons that I admire this organization and am thinking about possibly donating money (since I can’t donate breast milk) is because of the fact that they are able to give babies more care and one on one attention than a larger institution is able to provide. I believe this is important for the future emotional health of the children.

In the 2009 report, the organization shares that during the year, five babies were brought into their program and three were adopted shortly afterwards. They helped facilitate the adoption of eight babies during the year, and there were three babies that were currently in the process of being adopted. In addition, there were five children who did not currently have any adoption proceedings going on, and there was an update on each one, and how they were doing.

If you are looking for a way to fight AIDS and want to do it in a way where you are touching lives personally, this may be an organization to support. You can find out more about them at the link below:

http://www.ithembalethu.org.za/

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I remember the day so well – I was 10 or 11 years old, and it was a sunny but not overly hot day outside. I was laying in the hammock that was strung between two trees and masturbating. I didn’t understand what I was doing, or how it helped me, I only knew that I had learned about it a short time ago and it felt so good. I would masturbate for a bit, and my body would do funny things and about a minute or two later, I’d want to start over again.

Looking back now, I probably had four to five orgasms and was close to being done when suddenly my mother stood beside the hammock and dumped me out of it. “You horrible girl” she yelled at me as she dragged me back to the house. “I’ve told you not to do that. Its bad, and you’re a bad girl.”

I knew what was coming – another beating with dad’s belt. I was scared, and yet somehow, I felt like I had a bit of power too. I took the beating like always, because it was never wise to fight mom, but afterwards, I thought about the feelings in the hammock and how good I felt. I needed to find a way to do that more often without being caught.

I’m now 40 years old, and as I look back at my life, I see how much I allowed my mother’s actions to teach me shame about the beautiful gift of sex. Masturbation was something that was bad and ugly, and to “come” meant leaving something which would make me get caught, and she’d know that I’d been “touching my pee pee” behind her back. I tried to hold in any reactions because an orgasm (even though I didn’t know that word) was wrong. It was something you shouldn’t have or experience.

I masturbated up until I was married, and after a few months of marriage, my husband learned how to give me orgasms, and I never really needed to masturbate any more. Once in a while, I’d feel the urge, but not for long. My husband was always willing to take care of me even though it seemed to take forever for me to reach an orgasm. He suspected I was multi-orgasmic because a few times I would need him to massage me after we’d finished, but he never pushed me about it.

We had twins, and as we reached the age where our children might want to explore their sexuality, I sat down with my daughter and explained to her about masturbation. I didn’t want her to feel my shame, because I’d come to realize that it can be a natural part of growing up. I did point out to her that my one concern was that it could become so addicting that she’d want to spend hours every day doing it – much like I did as a teen. I explained that when it got to the point that masturbation was taking away from the rest of her life and consuming all her thoughts that she might need to get help or step back a bit. Why? Because I believe that anything that controls us – whether it be alcoholism or a sugar-addiction or even masturbation, needs to be brought under our control.  However, I tried to make it seem very natural and nothing bad.

But for me – I still held back on orgasms. I would start to come, and my instinct would be ‘hold it back, hold it back…it will get on the sheets…mom will see it.” In fact, to this day, whenever I go home to visit my mom, she reminds me of how I ruined her sheets (and she still has them) by masturbating and staining them.

A few weeks ago, we added toys to our sex life. As my husband suspected, I am multi-orgasmic. But he recognized the fact that I was still holding back on coming, and that inside of me I still felt it was shameful. He thought about making us a hammock that I could masturbate in without being afraid of being caught – to try and replace that shameful memory with a much nicer one. I couldn’t stand the idea, though – the thought of being in a hammock made my heart race, and I felt like there was no way I could do it.

We finally had a breakthrough a few days ago. It didn’t take a hammock or anything special. We were making love after he had stimulated me to orgasm several times. I had been holding back, but as he was in me and talking to me and telling me how much he loved me and how warm and wonderful I felt, and as he started describing my cum in such wonderful ways, I suddenly let loose and came. I couldn’t believe the feeling of just laying there and coming, and knowing it was ok.  I had tears in my eyes as I realized that it was ok to feel this way, and it was ok to come even if it meant the sheets needed cleaning, or I was messy.

Since then, I still sometimes have a bit of trouble letting go, at least for the first few orgasms.  However, I now tend to reach a point where I can finally let go and enjoy that release and not worry about the cleanup or what my husband (or anyone else) thinks.

The shame has gone, and has been replaced by utter joy.

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My husband was out of the house, and I was laying on the bed petting my rabbit when I learned something important about my sex life. I was petting my rabbit exactly the way he liked it, and like happy rabbits will do, he started “tooth purring” which is when they rub their teeth together to show they’re happy. The more I petted him, the more he purred – that is, until he’d had enough. Then, he nipped me and continued to lay there. I reached out to pet him again, and he lightly nipped me one more time. A light bulb went off in my head, and I realized what I needed to do with my husband. But alas – let me start at the beginning.

My husband and I have been married for 32 years now. For most of that time, our sexual relationship has been feast or famine, with our average sexual life being 20 minutes, once a week, where we would both orgasm once. Being the thoughtful lover that he is, my husband has always tried to take care of my needs first by massaging my clitoris.

About three weeks ago, we added sex toys to our marriage, and our play times increased to about 45 minutes twice a day. Why? Well for one thing, we discovered that I am multi-orgasmic, and I can have ten or more orgasms in a session. Something was awakened in me, and I needed to release it after all of these years. Suddenly, my back stopped hurting, and I was able to think clearly and not struggle with depression. I even had more energy for housework!

My husband didn’t worry about keeping up with me, because he did not need that much release. We found that he needed release about once every two days, so most of our efforts and energy were spent on me. We bought toy after toy, and I started buying pretty lingerie, because although I’m a plus size gal, I suddenly felt like a woman. It started out as the best of times…and led to the worst of times.

What had started as a more enjoyable way to express our love for each other became mainly a physical challenge. Both of us bought into the, “wow…wonder how many orgasms she can have this time?” mindset, and that became our focus. I was starting to feel like the toy, and like I had to perform.

Now let me share a bit about rabbits, because this is where my rabbit comes in. He lives in our bedroom and sleeps on the bed with us. He loves it when one or both of us pet him, and he’s very demanding of attention. But, unlike people who have to worry about hurting someone’s feelings, rabbits only care about themselves. They have two ways of communicating when they want attention, and when they don’t want attention. The first way is to nudge at another rabbit or a person. They will nudge your hand or leg or whatever to say, “Hi, I’m here. Pay attention to me.” If that doesn’t work, or if they get frustrated, they will then nip. Some rabbits will nip hard and others will nip softly. But they aren’t afraid to use their teeth to get the message across. Now, if a rabbit is shy about their relationship with another rabbit, they may run away instead of nudging or nipping, because they don’t have that comfort level with someone else.

As I laid on the bed petting my rabbit, I realized that he didn’t want to move or be away from me. He just wanted me to stop petting him right then. The attention was irritating him. He wanted to stay by my side and just be in my presence. To be honest, he truly didn’t care how he had to get the message across, because he knew what he wanted and he was comfortable enough in our relationship to nip.

I realized that I needed to “nip” my husband by talking to him and asking for a bit of time off from sex.

When my husband got home, I asked if we could talk, and I asked him to hear me all the way out before he answered. Then I said, “I love you, and I love our sex life and the way you wear me out. But I’m tired and worn out physically and emotionally. I’m struggling, because I’m starting to feel like I’m the toy. I don’t know about you, but I find myself thinking about all the different toys and positions and entering a play time thinking, ‘how many orgasms will I have this time?’ and it bothers me. Toys have gone from enhancing our relationship to becoming our relationship, at least for me.  Now if you need release, I want to help you and enjoy that. But I really need a break for 24-48 hours to let my body and mind rest. Will that be ok?”

I was shocked at his immediate, “Sure! I just wanted to please you.”

Now, I think saying “no” to sex worked as well as it did for a few reasons. For one thing, we have tried to build an honest and open communication style between us for years, and tried to learn to listen to each other. Because of this, I think he was open to hearing me out.

But the way I phrased things also helped him understand me. For example, I did not blame him for my feelings, and I acknowledged that I was making myself feel like a toy. I also stated that I wanted to make sure that HIS needs were met, because I didn’t want him feeling he was being dropped into the black hole of “sex once a week again”. I let him know that I enjoyed helping him and would love to do so. But I also did one other thing and that was, I gave him a time frame of how long I felt like I needed a break. This wasn’t for weeks or months. I just needed a day or two to work through what I was experiencing and feeling.

I’m sure you may be wondering exactly how this story ends.  Did we have to wait long? How did things change? Did we ever have sex again?

Well, later that night, I was laying in bed when I realized that I wanted to lay in my husband’s arms. We hadn’t slept like that in a few days – so I touched him, and rubbed his back and shoulders and he rolled over and gathered me in his arms. As he did so, my rabbit realized I was awake and came over to lay beside “mommy”. Both my honey and I reached out to pet the rabbit and show him we love him, and as I watched the rabbit continually nudge my husband for pets when he stopped, and would see my husband wake up a bit to pet MY rabbit, I thought about what a kind and generous and caring husband I have. My emotions started to focus back on my husband as a person rather than being a “boy toy” to help me enjoy sex.

I can’t tell you we had sex that night – because it was only last night. But I can tell you that after thinking about my husband for the last 12 hours, when he gets home I will nudge my bunny to make him get off the bed – no matter if he nips me. Why? Because its time to say “yes” again…and again…and again.