Oh, Damn

I was hoping to come back to this lovely little spot on the world wide web in a few days or so. However, at present I am trapped on the sofa with back spasms and the only thing I can reach is my computer. So, I decided to blog about chocolate, and its completely horrible effect on my behind.

At one point I had talked about being a size 16 curvy lady. That was over a year ago. I am now a much larger size, and it is no longer something I feel comfortable with. I had some nasty health problems that resulted in some not so little weight gain. Now, I am borderline diabetic, and infertile, as a result of the weight gain and health problems.

Logically, I would try to control my diet and exercise. I should be fighting for all I am worth to conquer this weight demon and avoid insulin and needles. Now thats the logical approach.

It seems there are few things that are logical when it comes to women, hormones, and chocolate. Particularly milk chocolate.

I keep buying it, thinking I will put it aside as a treat to have later. And of course, when I do indulge, it will be moderation. At least, this is the plan.

What really happens is I rip open a piece of chocolate, and by the end of the day have consumed half a bag. (ok, the WHOLE bag.) Blood sugar shoots through the roof, energy levels sink to a new low, and all I can say is, "but I felt so great while I was eating it."

Last night my Dear Husband told me, again, this has to stop. I was feeling less than sweet and submissive last night, so my reply was "yeah, yeah, whatever. What are you going to do, spank me?!" In case you can't tell, the health problems have not affected my mouths ability to get me into trouble.

"Yes, actually, I am."

Can someone please tell me why I give him ideas? I found myself facing the wall, with my hands resting above my head, and my butt being pounded. Did the message sink in? We will find out when I go grocery shopping this week.

So I'm a little freak

Lately, I have been really wanting to physically challenge BDH and be completely overcome. I want to be held down and spanked till my bottom looks redder than a cherry. I want to yell and fight back so he spanks me harder. I want to know who is boss. (Not to mention spanking majorly turns me on.)

The problem with all this is that I feel like a weirdo. I mean, what sort of modern, competent, woman wants to be overcome by a man? I feel like there must be something wrong with my brain. I have been struggling with this for awhile. I am mad at myself for what I desire. It is getting easier to accept this aspect of myself, but I still fervently wish it wasn't there. I don't want to be a little freak! Ack!

Last night I was able to say something to BDH for the first time. "I want to be spanked. Hard. I want it rough." He complied, and I felt great. I laid in his arms afterwards, completely satisfied. Added bonus, he likes it this way too. He loves me so much, he had waited to show me this crazy rough stuff till I asked for it. And that turns me on too. How wonderful is it to be with someone who patiently waits for you to be ready? Almost four years of marriage, and he is still letting me find my way, with gentle pushes in the right direction from him. I can say with full certainty, that man knows me better than I know myself. Now I find writing about last night and how he has patiently held me along this path is causing me to get turned on. Right now. Sitting here. I am turned on. Erg. What do I do about this?

Nice girls don't have sexual desires! Yes, it is the 21st century, yes, I was born sometime in the 1980s, but my Mother, lord love her, made sure I was as 19th century as I could get when it came to sex. Sexual repression, anyone?

I really need to go do some household chores this morning. My flowerbed in the front needs weeding. But sitting here, with my bowl of cereal and my laptop, all I can think about is jumping on BDH and seeing if he is up for round two.

No! I am not supposed to want sex. But I do want it. I am not supposed to tackle my Husband and eagerly wriggle till he throws me underneath him. Yet this is what I want to do.

I let my mind drift while I was sitting here battling between having sex and weeding the flowerbed. (Yes, the flowerbed is still a contender, but losing quickly.) A realization hit me. It is not sex that I desire as much as him. If a good looking, strong man walked through the door and offered to tumble me on this oh so very soft couch I am sitting on, I would say no. I don't want just anyone, I want HIM. I love HIM. He is IT. There is no one else. I am genuinely, completely, and totally in love with my Husband and want HIM to pull me underneath him and screw my brains out. Yeesh! Where did that come from? Now I am starting to sound like a hormone filled teenager!

I will compose myself. I will compose myself. I will go weed the flowerbed. I will go weed the flowerbed. I will go jump on ... NO NO NO. Flowerbed. Maintain some semblance of control.

Or, I could just embrace my inner freak. I could just run to his home office, naked, and sit on his lap. That would be much easier than continuing to fight myself.

Inner freak embraced. For now.