Smith faded in and out of her mind: his large, sensuous hands traveling over her sinewy back, falling down and caressing her legs and rear as she sat on top of him, riding him desperately. She moved her hand from her breast down to her fount and jammed two fingers inside as she climaxed, pumping herself with two fingers and rubbing her clit with her other hand. Often times, he almost seemed to intentionally ignore her. He hadn’t even called on her to participate in class discussions. Finally, he looked at her, that laidback expression masking something darker in his eyes. He pulled out of her, making her feel suddenly empty, and pulled her upright on the desk so that she was seated facing him. She wrapped her arms around his torso, placing the side of her face against the soft cotton fabric of his sweater. She breathed in – a mixture of deodorant and sweat.
It was so wrong, but when he had emptied himself into her, she hadn’t had a care in the world. To suppress her cries, she bit her lip until it began to pulse with pain and she stiffened herself against the bed. She always tried to get out of the room as quickly as possible when the bell rang. “Come here.” He closed the door and locked it before making his way over to his desk. She followed him and sat in a chair on the other side of the desk. Smith didn’t say anything for a moment, then extended his hand over the desk. He smiled down at her and she smiled back lazily, a feeling of exhaustion washing over her. “My parents will be gone next Friday and Saturday.” She didn’t have to look up to know he was smiling.
My story is about how my husband has successfully managed his recovery from Sex Addiction, but the deep wounds that his addiction caused still remain. Four years ago, my husband admitted to sleeping with prostitutes and strippers, as well as an enormous porn and sex chat addiction, during the first four years of our marriage, including during both of my pregnancies. At the time, we were living in North Carolina so that he could go to graduate school; we had no friends or family or community, and we had a toddler and a newborn.
He confessed “everything” after I caught him trying to send a photo of his penis to some stranger via email. At worst, I concluded that my initial reaction of calm and of, say, not throwing him out of the house and immediately filing for divorce was a sign of hope, of being able to overcome this, of my love for him, of commitment, etc. My husband did take responsibility and showed great willingness to recover.
I look back and realize that my calm, fairly together response was, in reality, shock and trauma. While, in the past 4 years, there have been some porn-related slips, there has been no more cheating, so far as I can tell. We’ve had ups and downs, but have been generally successful in recovering this marriage.
My reason for believing him is the difference in reaction he has had over the years – he’s not defensive, doesn’t fight my accusations, is calmly open to my questions, feels I have the right to my feelings, etc. Still, we recently separated for a few months because I had to face the fact that, while things are better, stable, peaceful, even good…
She would always blush and quickly look back down, hiding her creeping smile. He lifted her onto the desk and she responded enthusiastically, wrapping her legs around him. Even when she had finished, he continued licking her and pumping his fingers into her, causing her to convulse sporadically with over stimulation. I saw the big picture, and it was complicated, sobering. At first, the relief of reconciling was wonderful and I thought that the separation was really the last ingredient of moving past all this, and being happy again. And he’s a better man, father, and spouse for all that we have struggled together. Its either accepting this sadness and moving forward with what is otherwise good, or going through the pain, complication, and destruction of a divorce, a two-home co-parenting relationship, of introducing (eventually) new people, new family systems, into this increasingly complicated situation, a greater financial burden… Its been two months and I’m back to trying to wrap my head around this marriage. The man he is today is a kind, loving, generous, sweet, intelligent, successful man. And he is the father of my children, and a good father. We don’t have to sell the house, our home remains intact. On the other hand, I see the marriages of my friends and family members and, while they are not perfect and while I know that I can never really know what goes on in other marriages, there is a sort of… You know that feeling like, if you could do it all over again, of course you’d marry him? That you just accept him for all he is, and he accepts you, and that is what love is? This is my personal weblog where I post about stuff I find interesting.I usually write about Mac development, the business of shareware and the Mac community in general.She slid her hand from her thigh to her underwear, already feeling the dampness seeping through them. Her breathing was hot and heavy and seemed to echo throughout the room as her climax slowly began to fade. At this point, she was almost afraid to be alone with him again, although she craved his body almost everyday. Smith was perfectly nonchalant with her during class to the point where she often wondered if it had actually happened. Friday afternoon, at the end of class, Taylor quickly packed up her books and made for the door, passing Mr. “Taylor.” She froze and watched as the last students exited the room, leaving her alone with Mr. Her breathing suddenly quickened and she turned to him. She glanced to her left and swallowed uneasily, looking at the spot where they had... Put your bag down.” Hesitantly, Taylor obeyed and set her bag down beside her seat. It was a chore trying to control her erratic breathing. When Taylor did nothing, he beckoned to her hand with his fingers. He wrapped his fingers around her hand and pulled her up and around his desk to him.