missameliaandsir

Thoughts on an ever-evolving life

Archive for the month “August, 2015”

Marriage is not beautiful but…

I HAD to share this! Oh, so true! ❤

Journey To The Center Of Us

I saw this on a tumblr page seems appropriate to put it here in our blog. 🙂

Marriage is ugly, you see the absolute worst in someone. You see them when they’re mad, sad, being stubborn, when they’re so unlovable they make you scream. But you also get to see them when they are laughing so hard that tears run down their face, and they can’t help but let out those weird gurgling noises. You see them at 3am when the world is asleep except you two, and you’re eating in the middle of the kitchen floor. You get to see the side of them that no one else does, and it’s not always pretty. Its snorting while laughing, its the tears when it feels like its all crashing down, its the farting, its the bedhead and bad breath, its the random dances, its the anger and the joy. Marriage…

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Ego

Nothing feels better than inspiring someone to write. Thank you for the incredible complement, Sir. 🙂

Fictional Kevin

ego

I need you to stroke my flaccid ego. Too often of late I’ve had to do it myself and it is, well, less fulfilling. Too temporary. Lacking the joy and intensity of a true passionate night of rolling in the sheets of my soul.

I long for you to come and touch my ego the way only you know how to do. To let me feel the warmth of your encouragement wrap it’s warm palm around me. To lose myself in your comments. You always know exactly where to touch.

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Inspired by some kind encouragement from Amelia

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Ashes to Ashes

Hello Friends,

I wanted to let you know that I will be unavailable for a few days. As a family, we will be scattering the ashes of my Mother-in-law and my Brother-in-law that we have lost in the past few years. I wanted to tell you just a little about them both, and the lessons they have taught me.

My Mother-in-law died of throat cancer, 5 years ago this week, after years of substance abuse. We received a phone call late one afternoon that said she had been rushed to the hospital and her death was eminent. They didn’t know if we would make it in time since we had a 9 hour drive to get to her. My husband wasn’t home, so I packed our bags, loaded the car and waited for his arrival. The shock hit him so hard that I climbed into the driver’s seat, he climbed into the passenger seat, instantly fell asleep and I drove through the night to get him to her. We arrived early the next morning, and to our great relief, it was before she actually passed. Watching him kneel at her bedside and express his love and sadness was one of the most beautifully heart-wrenching experiences of my life.

Since she had been so sick for so long, and undergone chemo treatments, we thought organ donation was an impossibility. The donation team informed us that her corneas were viable, so my husband signed the papers for their donation. The family grieved her loss. Three months later, on the day before Thanksgiving, we received a letter from the organ donation organization. It included a sealed letter from the donor recipient. My husband decided he wanted me to open it and I read it to him. It was from a mother of two small children that had lost her sight due to a very rare eye infection. She had received my Mother-in-law’s corneas and for the first time in several years, she would be watching her children open their Christmas presents this year. The love and appreciation she expressed was overwhelming. We sat and cried tears of relief that all the pain wasn’t the only thing to come out of our loss. Knowing that this other family’s life had been changed for the better, allowed us to move forward and heal.

I am sharing this story because I want everyone to know what a difference organ donation makes, not just to the recipients, but to the donors family too. If you are not religiously or morally opposed, PLEASE BECOME AN ORGAN DONOR! You MUST share your wishes with your family so they know this is your choice, because when you are faced with the question in the worst moment of your grief, they don’t have time to think, they need to know.

Three years later, we received a phone call from a very dear friend. He had gone to check on my Brother-in-law and found him dead. He was surrounded by 26 empty tequila bottles. He had killed himself via alcohol poisoning. We all knew he was going to die, but no matter what we tried or how much we begged and pleaded, he wouldn’t get help. He saw life as hopeless. It wasn’t, but he couldn’t see that. Mental illness and substance abuse are wicked demons to have. Reason, logic and love have no effect on their insidious grip. And, unfortunately, we have a system that makes it very difficult to get an adult the help they need if they won’t voluntarily seek it. We tried every avenue we could, often finding it only lead to a dead-end.

So, his solution was to stop the pain permanently. But, he didn’t. He only transferred his pain onto all those left behind. When we were going through his things, settling his estate, we realized that things were nowhere near as bad as he had thought. If he would have only reached out for some help, we could have found a solution with him. Mental illness doesn’t see solutions, only hyper-exaggerated problems. If you know someone, or are someone, who battles those inner demons, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE seek help. Things can get better for you before they get worse for everyone else.

This is where I will leave you, for now. PLEASE tell the ones you love that you love them today. Actually, make sure you tell them and show them EVERY chance you get, because one day, you might not have that chance anymore.

The Else

    Else

    ADVERB
    adverb: else
    1. in addition; besides:
    “anything else you need to know?”
    2. different; instead:
    “isn’t there anyone else you could ask?”
    3. short for or else.
    Powered by OxfordDictionaries · © Oxford University Press

    Why are we always looking for the something else? It doesn’t matter what we have, or how good it is, we always seem to be looking for the else?

    If your hair is straight, you want it curled and the naturally curly curse the humidity and those with straight locks. If you are rail thin, you want curves and the curvy want to be a waifs. You can dye your hair any color, other than your own natural. Heels help the short and slouching help the long legged. Nip this and tuck that. Add here and take away there. You want it bigger, smaller, tighter, looser, straighter, curvier, newer, better. We are always looking to look like something or someone else.

    Our homes are never big enough, unless they are too big and we really want something smaller. Our car is never new enough, unless we can’t have the classic we desire. Our trips aren’t grand enough. Our jewelry not shiny enough. And we never have that other boat, car, trailer, vacation home, trip, furniture, gadget or gizmo we REALLY wish we did. Where is the else?

    And our relationships, the else is ALWAYS present. The single are on the lookout for the perfect mate, while the married are often looking to escape their commitment. We desire whatever it is we don’t have, and sometimes, just more. I have never hidden the fact that Professor and I have invited others into our relationship. We do it very seldom and only with great thought and care. But, we do it just the same. Why? Because there is something missing, something unsatisfying, something wrong? ABSOLUTLY NOT! It is just the else.

    What else are you looking for?

Resurrection

In the middle of the destruction stands an artist, holding a flaming torch
Scouring the debris and darkness for the object he seeks.
Digging through stone and ash
Hoping to recover what once belonged to him.

The breath suddenly leaving his lips
As he plunges his hand into the blackness
Returning with the prize he desires
Clutched firmly in his grasp.

Setting his long sought discovery aside
He begins his maddening work
Sculpting, molding, shaping and creating
The artwork coming into perfect form.

Upon his frantic and feverish conclusion
Standing before him is a sculpture of perfection
A woman made in the image
That only his heart could create.

He retrieves his object of discovery
Tenderly launders, polishes and cleans it anew
Revealing a stagnant heart
In need of a home.

He thrusts his hand into the coffer of his masterpiece
Releasing the revitalized rhythmic beat
And steps back to behold
The love he feared lost.

The Castle Falls

I kneel in the courtyard
My head is bowed and my eyes are closed
I don’t want to see the destruction
I can hear the turrets as they fall
I can feel the heat as the walls burn down
All the creatures have fled and the fairies have flown
I kneel alone at the end.

The fairytale is over
The castle falls
The heat, fire and smoke consume the happiness that was
All is lost
I kneel alone at the end.

The flames are getting closer
The heat more intense
My gown of fool’s gold melts around me
My flesh blisters and burns
I am consumed by the flames
And reduced to a pile of nothingness and dust.

The rubble smolders
The destruction complete
A pile of ash is all that remains of the broken dreams
A new wind will blow
With the power to scatter
Anything that may have remained
Of the fairytale that never really existed
The End.

MINE part 4

Once she was entirely secured, he slammed both hands onto his desk, on either side of her head, leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Now, Dear, I am going to make sure you never again forget just who you belong to.” With those words, he walked around so he was standing behind her. He grasped the waistband of her skirt, making sure to include the top of her lacy thong and quickly tore them down, leaving deep nail scratches on her back and ass as they plummeted to the floor. He picked up a bone-handled letter opener, which had previously resided in the cup that had shattered across his head, and used it to slice open the back of her sweat soaked blouse. He leaned over her and placed the sharp pointed tip between her shoulder-blades. Leisurely, he began to carve a straight line. She screamed out in agony as the score lightly oozed droplets of blood.

“NO! NO! PLEASE SIR! I will be good, I PROMISE!” Her tears and pleading went unheeded as he continued to etch the letters down her back. When he was finished, the word ‘MINE’ bled slowly, filling the space between her neck and the small of her back.

“Now, my Dear, I don’t think you will be forgetting who you belong to again, do you?” he asked sardonically.

“No, Sir. I will remember, I promise, Sir.” The broken tenor of her voice let him know that he had won. He walked around behind her, caressed her alabaster ass and slid his fingers between the folds of her exposed sex.

“Well now, little one, you seem to be all ready to receive me,” he serenely affirmed as he pulled his glistening fingers from her dripping wet hole, and wiped them across her dry lips.

“Yes, Sir. I am ready,” she breathily uttered.

With those words, he plunged his pulsating cock into her awaiting pussy. He grabbed a handful of hair with one hand, and with the other, pulled vehemently on her hip, making sure to slam into the deepest recesses of her hole with each thrust. She moaned out in ecstasy as her body quickly relented to the assault, and a body-wracking orgasm consumed her entire being. Within seconds, he too let out a loud groan of release and collapsed on top of her still bent and bound body.

After pausing a few moments to catch his breath, he scurried around the desk and released both bound hands. As soon as she was no longer restrained, she slowly slinked down the side of the desk and landed in a compressed ball on the floor. He returned to her and scooped her limp body into his strong arms. She coiled into a fetal position with her face nuzzled in his neck. He just held her.

Eventually, he broke the silence with a whispered question, “Why didn’t you use your safe word, Mrs. Rodgers?”

She raised her head so she could see into his adoring eyes, smiled a loving smile and quietly replied, “Because, I didn’t want to, Sir.” She returned to her neck nuzzling location, and they just held each other until it was time to go home.

MINE part 3

She felt excruciating pain as she was abruptly dragged by her completely muddled hair, across the floor and up to her feet. “So, Bitch, this is how you want to play today? Well, I don’t feel like playing. I feel like fucking. So do us both a favor and just take it like the good little submissive slut I know you are.” His words were harsh, frank, and left little doubt of the gravity they held.

“Funny how you seem to go anywhere I want you to, if I just have a nice fistful of your pretty hair. Think I will continue to use it as motivation for you.” He sounded condescending and arrogant as he raised her up and forced her onto her stomach across his pristine oak desk.

As he stood behind her and began to lift her skirt, he cautioned her, “If you just hold still, this will all be over in a few minutes.”

In a spontaneous moment of desperation, she grabbed a stoneware cup and forcefully broke it across the side of his head, leaving its contents scattered in every direction, and a bloody gash oozing from his temple and dripping off his lower jaw.

“YOU STUPID BITCH!” escaped with a tone of absolute fury as he slammed her head onto his desk. The trauma sent her swimming in a dense fog of near-unconsciousness. Her wilted body draped motionless across his now-disheveled desk.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE! Look what you did to me,” he raged as he smeared his bloody hand across her cheek and made his way around his desk. “NO MORE GAMES!” he commanded as he reached down to one leg of his desk and returned with a chained cuff, attaching it to her limp wrist. “Who’s winning now, you little Cunt?” he tormented as he secured her other wrist to the opposite desk leg, and she slowly regained her wits.

to be continued………

OMG! I HIT 200!

OK! I know this isn’t very big for most people, but I just hit 200 Followers today and I am VERY HAPPY! Thank you SO MUCH for everyone that tunes into the shit I write. I have found this medium to be a place where I can express my deepest, most intimate thoughts and my silliest, most mundane dribble with loving and respectful support. I curse my computer daily, but for this purpose alone, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Thank you again for following my crazy life. YOU ARE AWESOME!

MINE part 2

He leaned in for a second attempt, but again she struggled under his strong grasp to turn her head away, to avoid their lips making contact, and strainfully uttered, “Maybe YOU didn’t understand. I’m NOT interested.”

“Your interest, or lack of, is of no consequence to me. So, I strongly suggest you quit this futile rebellion and allow me to have my way with you. Otherwise, the results might not be very much to your liking,” he matter-of-factly informed her as he stared intensely into her defiant eyes.

In a jaw-set huff, she retorted, “NO Sir! I am afraid that if you continue with your insistence that I comply with your demands, it is YOU who will find yourself suffering, how did you put it, ‘results not very much to your liking’.”

Lightning fast his hand came down firm and swift across her anger-flushed cheek. The force knocked her slightly off balance, but she promptly recovered and stared at him with her resolute, determined eyes and asked through clenched teeth, “If that is all, Sir, I will be going now.” She did not try to hide the venom in her voice.

The second strike knocked her completely off balance as she crashed into the leather chair that sat along the mahogany wall. The daze it left in its wake hadn’t even begun to subside when she felt a fistful of hair gathering between his fingers, and her body was launched from the chair, her face and chest smashed powerfully into the wall. “Bitch, who the fuck do you think you are talking to? You will be MINE anytime I want you to. UN-DER-STAND?” His fury was palpable.

He gave her no time to respond before she was yanked away from the wall and felt the strength of his hands, on her shoulders, pushing her to her knees. She buckled under the force, landing roughly on the floor, with one knee and both hands pressing into the ground. One foot remained firmly planted, in a half-squatted position, clearly in defiance of his will to have her kneeling. He quickly noticed she wasn’t entirely offered on both knees, and forcefully jerked her foot out from under her. His massive, strong hands easily pressed her kneeling form into the hardwood floor by the back of her neck.

Her heavy, labored breathing soon began to relent when he released her crumpled body and stood towering over her. She remained lowered, still inwardly defiant, and contemplated her next move. He began unbuckling his belt and releasing himself from inside his straining designer suit pants. Once his hardened cock was free, he again grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head up, as he thrust his member against her clenched lips. “Open your mouth!” he commanded. She just stared up at him with steely black eyes, her mouth remaining firmly closed. With a swift smack across her mouth with his engorged cock, in a much angrier tone he again commanded, “Open your FUCKING mouth, you stupid BITCH!” Again she just stared, eyes fixed and jaw set closed.

The open handed slap to the side of her face came with such force it catapulted her instantly to the floor, causing her head to ricochet off the stained wood floor and land with a painful thud. She lay completely dazed with her head pulsing in time with her rapidly beating heart, as drool slowly seeped from her now parted lips.

to be continued…………..

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