My memory is haunted by you. Every man I’ve been with since you, I’ve secretly compared. You were like no one else I’d been with on so many levels. Then it all changed. I thought I had recovered, but then you appeared again, pulling me right back to where I was. I tried so hard to be strong and resist you.

When we talk, I think about you. I think about your face, your body, and what you felt like when you were inside of me. Your body wasn’t perfect, it was soft, like mine. But it meshed perfectly with my own. Before it all happened, you were becoming one of my best friends. I could tell you anything and not fear being judged unfairly. Then all of that changed. In one day, it was gone. Destroyed. I lost my friend and my lover. I was left in turmoil because there was nothing I could do about it but step back and watch it happen.

Now you talk of being with me again, and all I can think of it how scared I will be when it comes. Not of you, but of all the feelings that will come rushing back when I see you, face to face. Of the memories I have of you, and of my heart before it cracked apart. Still, I yearn for the day my body will take you into itself again. I can only hope that I can stand the wait.

This post was first written some time ago by a blogger who is no longer with us here. Because its a very good, very honest post, I took the liberty to make a few changes to names  and published it anyway. I think it says a lot that really should be talked about more often. A lot more women then you think have been in this position, and many of them probably don’t even realize it.

For most people, rape is pretty cut and dry. To them, you know you were raped and you were, or you didn’t know so you weren’t. For them, there is no grey area, no fuzzy line, nothing. You were or you weren’t. And you know when you are as you are raped.

I’m not one of them. I was raped once before, but I didn’t see it as rape because of the massive guilt factor involved. I’m still not able to lay on my back and suck a guy off; I still picture that jackass above me.

But according to my boyfriend, I was raped several times more without realizing it was rape. Mostly because I’m wired the way that I am; see, I’m quite submissive, bordering on the unhealthy side. I grew up with it instilled in my head that I must make everyone else happy before I try to be happy, I was raised to bow to the man, the king of the household. Basically I was brainwashed by the bible and my father. In my mind, the perfect wife was the perfect servant. I now know this to be wrong, but it is really really hard to change what has essentially been my life. Marcos (my boyfriend) is helping me through this.

It was he who realized I had been raped multiple times without knowing it. He holds my ex responsible. There were many times I was with him (the ex) and felt it more my duty, even though I didn’t want to. We weren’t married, far from engaged, though after three and a half years, I expected more than he was willing to give (apparently, three and a half years isn’t long enough to get an apartment together). There was one main instance that stands out in my mind, mostly because it was the first time Marcos told me that I had been raped. I denied it, refused to believe it, still do. It was the Christmas party last year for the company I worked for at the time. They rented out a hotel seminar room, set up everything, and were able to get half-priced rooms for employees and guests. I took a room for me and the current bf (now, the ex). After the party, we retired to the hotel room. I had originally planned to enjoy him fully, after all, what else are you supposed to do in a hotel room? But I hadn’t planned on the sound-system the company had rented; the room was small (small company) but the speakers were meant for a room at least twice that size. I had a massively pounding headache once we left the noise behind. I got undressed and lay in bed with a damp rag on my forehead, trying to ease the nauseating headache. He decided that we should have fun. My initial reaction was “baby, I’m sorry, but I don’t feel up to it”. But, of course, that didn’t stop him. It was/is instilled in my brain to please him no matter what, so I didn’t protest once he pulled the blankets away. No, I did not enjoy myself, my headache kept time with his thrusts, but that was about all I could feel. Yes, at the time I felt terrible, but I felt terrible because I felt I could have or should have done more. Having a high guilt factor is quite annoying.

When Marcos heard this, he became livid. Adding that to a few other times in the relationship that I either mentioned or let slip, he refuses to meet my ex for fear of going to jail. He has a no-tolerance for hitting, bruising, hurting, or raping a woman. Of which, my ex is guilty of (apparently) all of them. I agree with the first three, but I never would have expected that last.

I did a little research into rape. Only a small portion are reported. Of those, the smallest fraction is coerced rape, which is what I have fallen victim to. It is what most people with submissive personalities falls victim to, though it also opens us up more to the other forms of rape. Read more »

When my boyfriend and I first started having sex, I’m sad to say the sex was not that good for me. He seemed to enjoy it well enough, but I was left wanting. My best friend told me bad sex is a good sign to stay away from a relationship, and I was tempted to agree. But instead I stuck things out a while, and as time went on, and we learned each others’ bodies, it got better. It still took time,  but the difference between then and now is amazing. Throw in a little extra foreplay and I’m over the moon… a few times.

Then things really started to progress emotionally, and the sex was better still. It went from fucking to making love. I smile when I type that phrase because its one I’ve so rarely gotten to experience for myself. Every time I feel his hands on my skin I melt a little, and every time he kisses me, I float a little higher. Before long, we were in love. L. O. V. E. and I feel that has made all the difference in the world.

In the past I’ve had better looking men, bigger men, more experienced men, but he is the only one I want to be with. With him there’s no pretending, no games, and I give myself over completely. He is the one I want to please, to make happy, and to keep content with me. His happiness is mine. Everyone else pales in comparison now and I like it that one.

Last night, as we watched movies, we kept kissing, and by the end of the last movie, my hands were down his pants and stroking him, making him hard. Soon his hand was down my pants, and soon after that my pants were off, shoes kicked crazily across the floor. I slumped down on the couch, so I was almost on my back with my legs bent, supporting my lower body as it hung off the edge. He slipped between my legs, and pushed himself into me slowly.

There’s always a thrill in doing this out in the living room, especially in the early hours of the morning. One of his roommate’s’ room is right around the corner and he is often a very early riser. The prospect of getting caught is an exciting one to me. His other roommate often keeps irregular hours and is prone to wander inside at random times. Thinking about that while he slid in and out of me, while I cried out and gasped for breath, made things hotter.

Of course all good things have to come to an end, and this did soon enough too. We picked ourselves up, turned off the TV, and crawled into bed, my heart still beating crazily in my chest and the sensations so fresh in my mind and body. I guess they were right… what the world needs is love. There can never be enough of it to go around. I am happy. I am loved.

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STDs are an ugly fact of life that unfortunately, just about all of us are going to have to face at one point or another, whether it be being told by someone we are intimate with that they have something, or be it you doing the telling. I don’t mean for this to be all-encompassing, or even specifically informative. If you suspect you’ve contracted something, you should go see your doctor as soon as possible and do not engage in sexual acts until you can be checked out, and treated and/or given a clean bill of health.

Statistics about the human papilloma virus (also commonly called HPV) show that pretty much everyone will be infected with it at least once in their lifetime. This virus can do three things. It can cause no noticible effect, it can cause warts to develope on the genitals, and it can cause cervical cancer in women. Luckily, a vaccine has been developed that can be given to young girls before they are sexually mature that will prevent them from later contracting any of the several hundred strains of this virus. The good thing is once you have a certain strain, you will devlope an immunity to it and can’t catch that particular one a second time. But being that there are so many strains, being immune to one or two out of more then 200- you’ve still got 99% of them that can cause you problems.

The strains of the virus that cause warts do not cause cervical cancer, and the strains that cause cervical cancer do not cause warts. There is no quick cure for any of the strains, though warts can be removed in a variety of ways. Most people’s bodies will weed out the virus within a few months to a few years of contracting it, but if both you and your partner have it, you’ll just keep on reinfecting each other over and over again and may never stop shedding the virus.

If you contract a strain that does cause warts, there are several ways to remove them. Some of the more common methods involve freeze burning, surgical removal, and a cream that causes a localized auto-immune response that causes on-site tissue rejection. Having had contracted the virus in a form that causes warts as a teenager, and later having a wart (this time not due to the virus; I tested clean for everything) in a rather personal area, I can say the freeze burning methods are a lot less painful compared to the auto-immune response cream.The doctor applied the liquid, and over the next few days, the warts will slowly crumble away until they are gone.

Aldara (Imiquimod) cream is the name of the medication used in removing these warts with the auto-immune rsesponse method. It is applied three times a week to the affected area, and washed off after (if I remember right) 8 hours. Application is painless at first, but after a few weeks, the skin can become red, raw, and even ulcerated. There can be scarring left behind from using this. It’s definitely not comfortable, and it can take up to sixteen weeks to work, and then the odds of it working completely are not exceptionally high. I was lucky enough to have the wart removed within 6 weeks, but it was a very unpleasant experience.

I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself that you have nothing to worry about because you always use condoms. (Right?!?) Unfortunately, the HPV virus is housed and shed from a larger area then just the penis or vagina, and contact between the groin area during sex can easily transmit the virus from one person to another. While there is a vaccine for women against this virus, I would recommend being as careful as possible rather then getting the vaccine. It has been linked to many severe and life threatening problems. If you do choose to get the vaccine, please do your homework carefully so you know what you are risking. There is no vaccine for HPV in men, and there is no way to test men for it.

A romantic relationship is an emotionally intimate bond between two people. Such a relationship is best when it is with someone who knows you, understands you, and accepts you. It is enhanced through talking intimately about feelings, thoughts, and needs.

Sometimes when the qualities of a romantic relationship are not met, one or both partners seek them outside the relationship in an affair. An affair can be as exhilarating as it is destructive to the relationship. When a person in a relationship feels the temptation to have an affair, it’s usually because the romance in the relationship has stopped being important. Keep this thought in the back of your mind as you search for ways to inject more romance into your relationship.

Make Your Relationship an Affair to Remember
When you think of an affair, what comes to mind? Passion? Romance? Attachment to another person? That’s exactly what an affair is; however, the downside is that it is typically associated with a limited duration, not to mention, causing a great deal of pain to your primary partner. But, what if you could extend an affair and make it an everyday and lifelong occasion with your partner? You can do it; it’s just a matter of decision.

The way to make this happen is to turn your relationship into an affair. The first step to doing this is to know just exactly what needs are met by an affair: feeling desired, being loved, feeling needed, sexual fulfillment, being understood, close friendship, intellectual stimulation, feeling complete, attachment, and being listened to.

Look over these characteristics and ask yourself which of these qualities you provide for your partner. The ideal way to use this list is to sit down with your partner and take turns putting this list in order of which characteristics you feel the strongest, down to those you feel the least.

When each of you has completed your list, compare notes with your partner to see the order you put the characteristics in. Pay special attention to the last few items because they will tell you the areas that you need to work on with your partner. The goal of this exercise is to identify the areas that are holding you back from having an affair with your partner.

You can do the same with your partner. Look at the feeling that he put on the bottom of the ranking list. Then ask him what he needs that would help him get a stronger sense of that feeling. You’ll be surprised at how this simple exercise will illuminate important feelings that your partner has been experiencing. This exercise many times reveals feelings that are new to both partners. When you are able to strengthen your weak areas, your relationship will be the love affair you always wanted.

Nancy Fagan, M.S., author of “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Romance” and “Desirable Men: How to Find Them.”
DATING ADVICE

He comes to me as I lay quietly in the dark. His breath is warm, raising gooseflesh on my stomach, across my breasts. He peppers my belly with kisses, his lips whisper my name, his hands hold me firmly. Not moving now, just closing my eyes and letting the feeling sweep over me.

I am waiting.

Anticipation grows and hangs in the air above us. Words yet unsaid. Desires, waiting for release, loom heavy and pendulous in the dark waiting for resurrection.

Anticipation is the sweetest part of desire. Gaping, like a void waiting to be filled. I wait to be fulfilled.

Scanning the internet with StumbleUpon, I came across this interesting article at Ms. Magazine. The new birth control, Lybrel, is touted to stop menstration, and some people are worried that this could somehow be bad for your health. Or worse yet, that “period suppression reinforces the message that women need to tame their bodies.”

Personally, I think this is old news. One of the most common side-effects for the long-in-use Depo-Provera was the stopping of your period. I was on it for several years, and to me, it was fantastic. No days of painful cramps or aching muscles. Yet I don’t remember people worrying over this same side effect back then. Maybe it’s because that side effect wasn’t being used as a selling point, but merely as an after thought. Oh, by the way…

Why do these forms of birth control stop or at least dramatically decrease mentrual bleeding? They cause the body to stop or at least reduce the amount of lining developed in the uterus each month. When this is decreased, there’s no need for it to slough off on a monthly basis. Thus, no more periods. According to the article, “a whopping 97 percent of physicians surveyed said period suppression is medically safe and acceptable.” I’m with that 97 percent. Where are you?

Body, remember this moment. Remember the feeling as his hands caressed you gently, as he whispered, lips pressed against your skin. Remember how his muscles moved under your fingertips, the salt taste of his skin against your tongue. The low growl as he lost himself inside you.

Body, remember this moment that you shall have him again and again.It is a well known fact that men crave visual stimulation, that the vision of a naked woman or people having sex triggers some primal instinct in their minds that gives them pleasure, that arouses them, excites them. But what of women?

I know many women who truly enjoy watching and sharing pornography. I believe that sharing is the key word here. Men tend to isolate their watching more so than women. Perhaps it is shame induced by a society that says that Rodin’s ‘Embrace‘ is art and Jenna Jamison is a shameful display of female sexploitation.

Personally I like them both. More so when shared.

The picture above is not plucked from the Internet. It came from my own personal photo album. It is a bed in a hotel room. A bed where I had spent an incredible night and morning making love. After my bags were packed, after the rush of trying to get our luggage together before check out time. With one last backward glance at that bed, where I had known so much pleasure, I pulled out my camera and snapped that picture, locking that night into my memory forever.

Body, Remember this moment. Lock it away deep inside yourself. Not dead, but merely slumbering, waiting to be resurrected by the slightest whisper of Mnemosyne’s fingers against your cheek. By the trace of his scent on your pillow as you rest your head, longing to feel him inside you once more.

I see the indentation where his head had rested on the pillow and the ephemeral shape of his body permanently engraved on the sheets. I see the marks that my knees left as I straddled him, hovering above him and watching his face as I controlled the rhythm of our love making, as he relinquished the previous nights control and allowed me to pleasure us both at my own pace. I see my own ass prints on the edge of the bed where I had taken him into my mouth and swallowed him one last time before we left that little world– where only we two existed for a few hours. A few magnificent hours. I am there again each time I look at it. I see it in shadows, the forms that we were in that moment. I can smell the ocean outside the sliding glass door. Ah, you cannot see the balcony doors swung wide so that we could hear the crash of the waves even as we crashed into one another. But I know they are there. I remember. I can taste him, feel his hands and tongue as he took me to those places that are secret– that only lovers share.

I have many such photographs. Not of people, but of things, places, restaurant booths and bar stools, hotel room beds and sandy beaches. Places that I want to remember, moments of time that I recreate each time I see them.

A woman’s mind may work differently than a man’s but I know that when he sees this picture it affects him in the same way that it does me. That imagery stimulates the body to remember how incredible we were together.

And he hungers for me in that moment of remembering.

~~TRICIA~~