A Slut, A Wife, or Both?

So – my husband had a serious health crisis while I was miles away being a slut. I also had a horrendous ding dong with one of my sweeties just before I got the news about him. Both things look to be settling now, but while the immediate shock has passed, I'm feeling very strange indeed – up one minute, down the next, and permanently afraid of loss, afraid of losing the things which make my life worth living, afraid of losing myself. I'm always so afraid of everything – I hate that about myself. It makes me want to pull back and declare a moratorium on any fun and happiness in my life. I'll go back to being the perfect Wife, sit on the sofa knitting, bake, clean, sew, iron, leave the house to go to work and that's about it. Go back to living in shades of black and white, just in case any colour, any vibrancy in my life, any delight; that shining shimmer of joy - well, in case it attracts the attention of something which wants to destroy it, eat it all up, take it away. Because if I don't have it in the first place, I can't lose it.

I need to remind myself why I'm doing this. I'm feeling my way through a morass of sensations and emotions at the moment, I'm finding it overwhelming, and I need to claw myself back up to the surface before I lose myself and fall back to sleep at the bottom of the ocean again. Seems these days as if I leave a trail of destruction and chaos behind me wherever I go. I've got to shake off this dark shadow before it takes hold, before I drown in it. I need to remember that I know how to swim.

To this end, I'm forcing myself to write down ten memories from the last two weeks which contained moments of pure joy. Here goes (in no particular order):

1) I'm on the dancefloor at Brighton Rock. I'm wearing platform heels and a red dress, and I hear the opening chords of Aerials by S.O.A.D. My heart starts pounding, and I know my friend is DJing – he'd asked me what song I would most like to hear, earlier, and this is the one I chose. It feels as if he's playing this song just for me, and I feel the power wash over my own body as I dance like a slut, dance like I'm alone in a field in the sunshine, dance for R as he watches me and I know that he likes watching me, and most of all I dance for myself, as I dance my life.

2) ...and about ten minutes later, and now I'm dancing to NiN's Closer with R, kissing him, looking into his eyes and knowing he's remembering all the other times over the years we've danced together, to that song: so many places, so many nights in dark clubs together, what we were then and what we are to each other now, still so very much in love after all this time.

3) I'm walking to work with my ipod on, my dreadlocks bouncing, anticipating the fun and excitement of the next few days, listening to Wolfsheim and relishing that sparkling effervescent feeling of happiness and sheer pleasure in being ME, because my life is GOOD, in this time and this place, right now.

4) I'm at the Club With No Name in Eastbourne on Saturday and enjoying watching the glow, the radiance of personality and simple goodness emanating from my much loved friend. She's discovered how to stand on her own two stilletos and I watch, watch and smile as the whole room becomes absolutely entranced with her, and I experience the joy that comes from sharing how wonderful someone is, with other friends, with strangers.

5) I'm meeting someone very special at long last – my beloved's cat – who is every bit as delightful as I've been told. I realise she likes me too, this treasured and precious bundle of slightly wobbly four paws and a purr like a pigeon cooing.

6) I'm lying in bed next to my two sweeties, as they make love – not just fucking – for the first time in my presence. I realise that something very special is happening. I feel honoured - honoured and privileged to share in that – to be included; as they look into my eyes and then into each others, their arms around me, my arms around them. Dust motes shining in the air, little falling stars, so many possibilities, potential, the world opens, breathes, turns over.

7) There is no guilt, I'm here with the full permission of my husband. After months of lusting and restraint, at long last, I get my lips around the beautiful cock of the other man I'm in love with. He feels the warm breath from my open mouth, he thinks I'm teasing him as usual, then my head is suddenly pushed down fully over him by our mutual beloved, hearing his intake of breath, the gasp of someone who can't quite believe that a long anticipated event is happening, the surprise, then his pleasure, tasting his come, my eyes watering, gagging, I need to be here, need him inside my mouth desperately, now I can have him, so so happy to be getting what I want, and at the same time knowing he is taking pleasure in it, and knowing she is taking pleasure in it too. I can please both my sweeties at the same time, by doing something I love to do. The simple, uncomplicated joy in this single act is immeasurable.

8) Realising I was coping, realising I was actually having fun, in a huge crowd next to a terrifying bonfire, because I was there with two of my loved ones, knowing they would keep me safe, knowing that I would keep them safe, because we were together, a pack of three, bonded. And it was my choice to be there, with them. And I could leave, but I didn't want to.

9) Sitting, drinking tea and cuddling, hugging, chatting, under a blanket on the sofa with the prettiest of my loved ones. Then the contrast of lying tied into a medical chair, legs apart and on stirrups, skirt flung up, her fingers inside me, in a public space, vicious bruises on my thighs given from her. The look on her face so different from earlier, enhanced by the more intimate moments between us, the knowledge of each other outside of these, our play personas.

10) After spending most of my life believing I couldn't have orgasms at all, and then at a very late age, discovering I could have clitoral orgasms, but only this kind, and only under very specific circumstances... Well, let's just say there is a certain satisfaction to lying in the arms of two people, both of whom have made you come in a variety of different ways, spectacularly, so many times you've lost count. He held me down and looked into my eyes, I watched the pleasure in his face as he brought me to orgasm. She did things to my body no-one else has ever done, showed me I could come in so many different ways, so many new experiences. Did I just wake the whole house up screaming while I came?

These people make my world worth staying shiny for.