Please welcome our newest guest blogger, Miss Apprehensive. She’s a friend, and a blogger, and I know you’ll leave her some love because she’s as emotionally crippled as I am and your comments are the only thing that will keep her going. That, and her husband, kids, and assorted pets.
I am a married woman, in her thirties, with more than a couple of stretch marks. In my life, I wear many hats. I am a wife, a mommy, an employee, a chauffeur, a laundress, a chamber maid, a chef, an accountant, a personal shopper and occasionally a referee. I’m also a somewhat successful blogger with a fairly loyal following. Having so many jobs sometimes makes me forget about one of my favorite jobs, which is being a woman.
I am the kind of gal who can bring home the bacon AND fry it up in the pan, but sometimes, I just don’t want to. I don’t have the bloody energy any more. Sometimes I just want to lay in beautiful repose, in my 500 thread-count, Egyptian cotton sheets (an impulse buy for sure, but SOOO worth it) and be entertained by my handsome hubby.
The problem is, after 16 hours of life in the Mom-lane, I won’t be slipping into anything sexier than my husbands t-shirt and a pair of cotton pajama pants. Around here, my sheets are usually the only thing getting any ass, and my pillow is definitely the only thing getting any head. This is not how I pictured it when we were on a 24 hour sex-marathon on our honeymoon eight years ago.
Therefore, it was with great interest that I eavesdropped on a sexy conversation I overheard at the gym. Two women were discussing the latest thing sweeping the Mommy circles. It was a new book called “Fifty Shades of Grey“, and from what I gleaned, there was sex and a lot of it. I know what you’re thinking, because I was thinking it too.
“Really? How can it be any different than any of the other smut that can’t keep me awake longer than 10 minutes when I am reading it in bed?”.
The thing is, this isn’t the ‘usual’ romance novel, complete with a bodice-ripping Fabio on the cover. This book is a fascinating peek into a lifestyle most of us have never even imagined: bondage and domination.
Well now you’ve got my attention.
Here’s the thing. I had never considered the possibility of a safe, sane and consensual bondage and domination relationship. Nice girls don’t get into bed with sadists, because nice girls couldn’t possibly enjoy being a trussed-up, paddled sub to a strong, masochistic Dom, and they CERTAINLY don’t want to read all about it. Right? I mean…RIGHT?
Wrong, I guess.
I ran my ass to the nearest internet connection to order this titillating tome, and waited
impatiently for it to arrive from my trusty online porn peddler book seller. When it arrived, I cleared my schedule and went straight to the reading room, where I could enjoy my Egyptian sheets a bit better.
I’m not going to say that E.L James is going to win any awards for prose because it just isn’t going to happen. However, she might be single-handedly responsible for getting an entire generation of neglected husbands laid for several nights in a row. I know this, because my husband sent her flowers and an offer to stay at our place if she’s ever in the area.
As I read the book, I thought it was a fascinating glimpse into the motivation behind these kind of relationships. I mean, really, how do you KNOW you don’t like to be tied up and spanked if you’ve never tried it? Lot’s of times we categorically say ‘NO’ to any idea that is at all intimidating or strange to us without even asking ourselves, “What if?”
I mean, really, how do you ask your husband of 8 years to break out his ugly Christmas ties and bind you to the bed? Isn’t he going to wonder where this is all coming from? Maybe he’ll think you have gone off your meds and need a trip to your friendly neighborhood psychiatrist. After years of ‘the usual’, what would happen if your sex life took a turn for the decidedly alternative?
Well, wonder no further. My husband did indeed think there was something wrong with me, but after I explained that my new found interest in BDSM was purely research related, and that as a writer, I owed it to my audience to explore the path that had just materialized in front of me.
He reluctantly agreed to see this experiment through, and dutifully gathered some of the tools of the trade. We were obviously low on chains and whips, but he did find a length of nylon rope from the kids tent and a spatula that looked promising. We embarked on our evening of erotically charged excitement, with me tied to the bed and him looking uncomfortably naked with a kitchen utensil in his hands.
He made a few half-hearted attempts at flogging me, but truly, the cat scratching at the door and the constant yelling of the children for glasses of water pretty much ended the fun before it started. I giggled with relief as he untied me, and we both agreed that our ‘vanilla’ life was exciting enough for us, and why fix what wasn’t broken. That’s not to say the attempt to try something outside of our comfort zone wasn’t inspiring, because it definitely was. I don’t like to tell tales, but we didn’t go to sleep for another 23 minutes, and that my friends, is banner night at my house.
I hit him up for some the next three nights IN A ROW, until I finished the book. I’m happy to report that my man enjoyed me reading the book so much, he busted out the credit card, and number two and three in the trilogy are on their way from Amazon as we speak.
I don’t have the heart to tell him that my next assignment is on prostate exams.