Ramblings

Here I sit in front of a computer screen, my hands on the keyboard ready and willing to type, it 2 a.m., I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because a few hours ago, I couldn’t write, I have writers block. I never knew how addictive writing could be, I now understand my father locking himself in his study hour after hour. I wonder what he did in those hours he couldn’t write, did he write letters to friends. He kept no journal, so I have no idea. At least I have an outlet, I have all of you, in a way my letter to a friend. I can be more open then if I was writing to a friend, I like that.

I’m sure you’ve all heard of writers block, I’m equally sure you can’t understand it, at least those of you who don’t write. Then again, maybe no one but myself can understand it, maybe no one else writes the way I do, that isn’t right, it’s not about the writing, it’s about the story. Where do my stories come from, I just don’t sit down and write, my stories seem to come from outside of my mind, a world not part of me. In my little world I see all, I feel all, I know the very core of each of my players. So much of that little world doesn’t make it on paper.

A bar scene, two seeming strangers, hidden glances across a room, eye contact, signals, him going to her, words exchanged, him asking her for a dance, the quickening of her heart beat as he takes her in his arms. Words spoken, little words, everyday words, in a way meaningless words, but words that mean so much, words that kindle desire, want, and need. As he pulls her close to his body, she response as she has to no other, her body nestles in against his, a perfect fit. His scent so alluring, so perfect, she looks up into his eyes, warm loving eyes, consuming eyes, and she is consumed. All thoughts, save for the thoughts of him driven from her mind, an overwhelming desire, a desire to know him, to touch him, to be one with him.

You read what I just wrote, you see those words in print, they are the players in my story, maybe players in a world that is real, a world I am only allowed the briefest of time to enjoy, to love, to hate, to cry, to feel pain in. In that world there is so much to see, take my bar scene, you didn’t get to read about the couple who’s marriage well end that night. You didn’t get to read about the husband, out with his buddies, who ends up cheating. You didn’t get to read about the woman whom he cheats with. The woman that falls in love with him, the disastrous consequences of her love for him. How about the drunk over in the corner, he has a life to. How about the young girl so in love with the man she is with that she’ll do anything for him. His heart is hard, he’s a user, soon she’ll be on the street bringing him home money, but she’ll never doubt his love. What drives her, why is his heart so cold, you’ll never get to know. Of course we all know there has to be a cockold husband in this crowd, how else would I be able to write about them. We do have other characters in my world, the two women sitting in a hidden corner of the room, eyes locked on each other, tender words spoken between them, loving words.

Writer block to me is when that world is shut off to me, or sometimes I see it but as if I’m in a fog. Then there are times like now, I can’t get to my world, it’s not closed but I get detoured to the world of another, a writer who’s given me a look at his world. Today that world, is the world of Night Writer 99, the glimpse he’s given me is with his story Best Served Cold. The truth is I rarely read a whole story at Literotica. I used to but so many are so poorly written, and even the ones that are written well are so trite. I may skim some for content and admittedly some ideas. In a way I hate the ones like Night Writer’s, those make me stop, slow down and actually read them. Reading them consumes time, all life really is, is time, so they consume a portion of my life. I’m greedy I don’t want to waste my life. In the end, so many of the stories that catch my interest, do waste my time. To understand any of what I say next you do have to read his story.

Best Served Cold is not one of those, the screen at the bar was, wickedly cruel, while at the same time very sensual, very stirring, it built emotions, but most of all it made me think. I can’t say I loved the ending, in my world the husband could not have handled the "Let me tell you what a bad girl I've been." Granted Linda had brought doubt into the whole episode, did she, or didn’t she, with "But you're living it out in your head, David. The things you saw could easily have been suggestions, innuendoes, illusions." In other words, although some things did happen, certain things, like Stephan masturbating her in public, were only imply, her reactions, her orgasm, faked. Of course there is no way of knowing what happened once Linda went to Stephan room.

We see a part of David we didn’t know existed, his fantasy about his wife being with another man. That really doesn’t change things, it was a reality he couldn’t live with. In my world that doubt and her telling him about her night would have destroyed what had been restored, their marriage.

Although I beg to differ, it wasn’t a night it was a week, a week in which both Linda and Stephan admitted she’d done things she’d never done with David. Not only that it was implied that Stephan was a better lover then David. Again the doubt, if the other was an illusion then so was the week together. I try to read between the lines, I see signs of arousal, but even if it’s an act that could happen. At least it could for me, this is a fantasy I could live so I’d be turned on. When David mentions the beads of sweat on her breasts, to me it belies that this was just an act, at least for me, it takes more then being turned on to the situation for that to happen, I’d be way past just a little turned on for that to have happened. Of course it could just be that the room is over heated, she sure doesn’t have enough on for her to be overdressed. The orgasm could be faked, I can do that, I’m sure most of us can. We don’t get any description, such as her face and chest being flushed, if we had it would belie it being an illusion.

I love to fill in the bits and pieces, so here my take on it, Linda was obviously turned on to what was happening, despite her husband’s present, or maybe partly because of it. It most surely could have been an act, pay back for her husbands affair. The truth is you can get lost in an act, my take on it was Linda had gone beyond acting, Stephan being a man would have taken advantage of that, him masturbating her would not have been an act, I don’t care if he was hired help or a friend, he was a man, enough said. Furthermore, Linda had completely surrendered to her Stephan, something she’d never done for her husband, I’m not sure she could have acted that out, my take again is she actually did so, not so much that she wanted to but she had to make it real. Her anger, her pay back, this gorgeous man, yes I’d surrender. My intend, perhaps would be to regain control after leaving David, but would I, I’ve surrendered, I intend to put doubt in David’s mind regardless of what I do, I’d make love to Stephan.

The doubt was essential to this story, it gave David something to hide behind. I’m not sure many real men could continue on in a marriage where his wife gave everything to another man, did things with him that she’d never done with him. Implied he was a better lover. Those thing all can happen but you don’t tell your husband if you want to save your marriage. Exception noted to the cockold husbands who read this. Revenge may be sweet but it also has to be tempered if you hope to continue in a relationship. I have a friend who’s husband cheated, she got her revenge fuck, her was essentially as hard as this story. He waited with her until her date arrived, he stayed at home while she was gone, he saw the way she looked when she came home. He is not aware of it but his cheating and her revenge has changed her, changed her life, she still see the man who helped in her revenge. That is almost four years ago. Yes sex can be better with someone else then your beloved, they just don’t need to be told that.

I was a little lost by the seduction part with Casey, I would have preferred to have read about what was happening inside his mind during his waiting. I really wanted to know more about why he even stayed. Most of us wouldn’t have, no matter how much I loved, nor how guilty I felt, that would have been a bitter pill to swallow. One I’m not sure I could. Obviously Casey was put up to this, women don’t just offer themselves to a man solely because his wife is cheating, add to that his wife was only cheating because he had, I’d guess the most such a man would get from Casey, would have been a hate stare. But it’s believable because either the wife or the lover could be trying to tempt the husband. Perhaps, the temptress was basic to the story, without her he may have just left.

The more I think about it she is essential, I just wish he could have let us in on how she was effecting him emotionally. Even the carnal, lust, desire and passion. Maybe it is that some men, maybe all men, can see sex as just sex. It was only sex. Maybe you men don’t need an emotional component to have sex. I’ve done a few one night stands but I assure you my emotions played a big role in my doing so. Hopefully I’m wrong, hopefully there is always an emotional component to sex, I can’t believe that men are that much different. What do I know, I thought I did a good job of portraying a man in my last story, obviously you men didn’t think so.

The sensual part of Night Writer’s story, the scene in the booth, I just loved it. I did have to switch places and become Linda, have her thoughts, feel what she felt, to completely enjoy the sensation, of course I’m a bit of an exhibitions myself. Given that it would still be hard to do as Linda did, from what little we know of Linda, almost impossible for her. Could she be angry enough for this to have been an act, I have no doubt of that. Still she would have had to mentally surrender to Stephan, anger, an act, whatever, she still would have had to completely surrender to the situation, that meant surrendering to Stephan. That very surrender, in my mind, belies the ending, there could be no doubt that Linda man love to Stephan, once they were alone it was inevitable. It could have been all lies but in the end she would have been unfaithful.

The opening scene and conversation was enough to make most men slink away defeated. The conversation between David and Stephan, would have been devastating. If I wanted to humiliate a man I can think of nothing more humiliating then that conversation. The utter cruelty of it, spoken by Stephan in such a casual manor, no leering, no arrogance. This David, is your wife, a woman you’ve never know, a woman you may never know accept while she’s in the arms of another, implied of course. David’s denial being the only way he could withstand total defeat. Linda’s actions taking even his denial away.

I would expect more from my men, even in love, that would have been the end game. Humiliated yes, complete defeat no. Save for one, my men would have walked away. I don’t write about those men, strong men, men who could be hurt but never humiliated in that manor. Men more like Stephan then David, men I could surrender to. Much more dominate men, maybe to dominate. I have been accused of being a man hater, think what you must, but I do choice my male characters carefully. They are weak men, they have to fit, only one of my men ever came close to fitting the male characters of my stories. Even with him I have to go to the inside to bring out the truth of his nature, a violent man, to say the least.

In truth my male characters come more from the stories you men write, then from men I’ve known. They’re the I in your own stories. It’s not always open, what man writes about I as a weak man, a man who wants to be humiliated, a man who feels inadequate, a man who relishes the idea of being dominated by his wife, but it’s not hard to read between the lines. You have to know my characters come from the stories about cockold husbands, cockold defined as a man who longs to have his wife cheat. I just write what some of you men are afraid to write. Afraid to even admit to yourselves. Do you all fit, of course not, what a boring world that would be.

Honestly I do not dislike any of you, I’ve come to accept your nature, your needs. I’m sure a lot of you are really very nice men, milk toast yes, but I’m sure nice. Maybe I would have been better off with one of you, I can’t say it ever worked with the strong dominate men of my life. Maybe it could have with one, I cockold him, defined per Webster’s as a man who’s wife cheats. He was a strong man, I humiliated him, I made love with someone else, I even did so in his own bed. Strong men, confident men boot their wives for that. Maybe some can forgive, but they’ll never say, please do so again, it turns me on.

I can visualize complete sexual freedom, sexual freedom defined as sex with whom ever I chose, never being forced. I can visualize having a man I can so control, that I can cheat for my own pleasure and have him beg me to do so again. I don’t think I could truly love a man like that, but my needs are such that I don’t think that would matter much to me. Maybe if I’d continued on the path my life seemed to be heading, I would have picked my next man for that very reason, I can’t say. I hope that doesn’t dishearten any of you, I do believe some women can and do love such men. Although I think most women who love these men, over look that desire, choosing instead to stay monogamist. I know some of you hate me saying that, you wish your wives would fulfill your desires, oh well, you always have your fantasies.

I realize that some see my writing as prejudicial, my female characters always strong, my males always somewhat flawed and weak. I could write about flawed women, weak women, we all know there are women like that. I could write about spiteful, bitter women, they exist, some place me in that category. Or maybe the catty woman, spreading her gossip, her lies, never truly having friends because of her nature, if she does have friends she’ll betray them. I don’t because none of those women can drive home my points. I don’t know how many women, or men for that matter, really live the loving wife life style, my assumption is not many. Some women have done threesome, but it isn’t their life style, we all know some women have done gang bangs, but that isn’t their life style. I do think living the life of the wife of a cockold husband, takes a women who is strong enough to know she’s doing so for herself.

My female characters may be prodded by their husbands, but when they move from fantasy to reality, they do it for themselves. I for one think you men need to understand that. I for one think you men need to understand we can, if we choose to be, be almost unquenchable in our sexual desires. You man have nothing to compare to our capacity to experience sexual pleasure. Your orgasms would hardly register on our scale of ecstasy. We could, if we wanted to, take on a room full of men, and still come back for more. I don’t mean fucking either, each one making love to us, one after the other. Most women would never do that, most women don’t have a need for that, one loving man, in my case a women, is enough for us. Some women would like to experience that just once, your wife may even be one of those, but I doubt you’ll ever know. Regardless whether we want to or not, we can, you men can’t. I just want you all to know that no matter what you may think, if your wife elects to live the life style you want her to, she does it for self. When she is being pleasured by another or pleasuring another, it is not for you, it’s for her, you are irrelevant. You in essence have become NOT ENOUGH. If that hurts I’m sorry, my intend is not to hurt, my intend is only to tell you how it really is.

This may sound strange to you, some have degraded me for it, I would still expect complete fidelity from such a man. The pleasure of cheating, the pleasure of sex with others would be mine and mine alone. Be assured you would face humiliation, I could play it no other way. Contrary to most of my female characters, I would not deny you, your voyeurism, I would let you watch. At times I would make you participate, I’m not so sure you’d like what you’d have to do, but that’s life. You want a strong domineering woman, I assure you I could be that.

But that really isn’t me, I’d much rather surrender. I do chose strong lovers, male or female. Don’t take that wrong I don’t like butch, a woman does not have to be butch to have strength. I prefer to be lead, I love the security of having someone else set the course. Don’t take that to mean I don’t want some say in my life, in our relationship because that would be wrong, I do. It is in the little things, going to dinner, I’d rather she/he picked the restaurant, the theater, she/he pick the play. In a way I do have my own need to be dominated. For a lover to demand I take off my undergarments, as Stephan did of Linda, would make me wet. I could absolutely see myself being exposed at the whim of my lover, as Linda was. I read a story here, about a women being willingly forced, see the word willingly, to masturbate while she leaned against her lover’s body at a crowded dance club, oh my god, I’d just love it. I stress the word willingly because, in my world of domination, of submitting, I have limits, I have times I want that and times I don’t. I want a lover who won’t violate my limits, nor force the issue when I’m not in the mood.

On to the next, I have this little creep, my concept of him, who keep bugging me about my father. First he says, I’ll never read your stories because your so spiteful to your father. The next time, after again berating me because of my feeling for my father, he says he hates my stories, I must hate men because my male characters are so wimpy. He can’t have it both ways, he won’t read my story but he knows my character. My dear little man, your laughable. You really would fit one of my stories, a weak little man, a man who I’m sure feels inadequate. A man without the backbone to give me his e-mail addy.

I don’t really mind the hate mail, but I have no respect for a man who hides behind anonymous. Your not the only man who doesn’t like my male characters, I don’t mind that, but then show me where I’m wrong. Some have tried, I enjoy reading what they have to say, most are very nice men. The only thing I have to say to some of them is that no matter who you are, your wife is not doing this for the us part of your relationship. It’s about her, not you. If you can accept that, if her passion for others gets you off, then I don’t have a problem with you. Most people, if they would admit it, are probably voyeurs, it’s just that most people don’t want to watch their partners with others.

In fact, I do understand the lust, jealousy part of seeing your partner being flirted with. I’m not exactly sure it’s lust, it is nice to know that others find your chosen one worthy of their attention. A number of men have made the point about the way some of us dress at times, the fact that our husbands or lovers like that. I’m sure there is in most of us a component that wants other to see the sexual beauty of our lovers, and I’m sure that for a lot of men, some women, that is a turn on. Whether the lust part of seeing that or the jealousy part is prevalent, I think depends on the person doing the leering, if there is a chance that your partner would cheat with that person, no matter how slight the chance, then jealousy well prevail. If your partner has, or you feel they have, a need to cheat then the jealousy may turn to rage. For some it seems the lust part has just taken over, the jealousy and rage part goes away.