Alarm goes off at 6:30am. Rock is much more of a morning person then me. But my mind has to kick into gear as Rock likes sex of some type in the morning but even when he does not I get up with him and fix his breakfast for him which is usually orange juice, cereal and a piece of fruit. Rock likes variety in the cereal and fruit department.
This morning was extra sleep where Rock hits the snooze button. This just means I will not get anything drawn out in bed. Snooze then basically narrows it down to three things. No sex, sex of some type in the shower or blow job while he eats his breakfast. Rock gets up around 6:50 and does not call me into the bathroom so I now know for certain, unless he infers no, he will be using my mouth at the kitchen table for his pleasure.
I get up and put on a short silk robe. I comb my hair out the best I can after a night of sleep but I can never get it where I wish even with limited expectations. I have straight black hair that should be easier then it is. Once Rock hits the shower I brush my teeth and splash water on my face. Leave the bedroom and head to a spare bathroom. Rock enjoys giving me golden showers a lot but does not do the go to the bathroom while he is in there thing.
I fix Rock’s breakfast and wait for him to come out of the bedroom. Rock designed this weekday morning thing as some type of ritual to start out the day objectifying me and one of the principals was little or no talk and for us not to be love like. I am happy to report I usually keep up my end but Rock often fails. Today he comes up to me and kisses me on my cheek. Who gets tired of that in their relationships!
I serve him his breakfast then I step back, untie my robe and let it fall to the floor where I am standing in a hopefully sexy way. Rock may or may not look when I do this. Expecting him to look is not what an object is about; we do not have feelings or expectations required to please. I then I get under the table, there is no sexy way, and get between Rock’s legs.
I then unzip and pull out his beautiful cock that I still never not get a thrill in doing. I go to give him the best oral I can. I hate giving a blow job when it’s through the fly of a man’s pants. There is just not much to work with and there are less sensory pleasures for me. Another problem with this and Rock’s timetable is that he will usually not cum before he has to leave for work. At some point Rock pushes my head away so he can get his cock to deflate in time so I can put it back in it place. This is torture to a slut like me. A hard cock and it just goes to waste! Damn why is Rock so responsible! He is the boss he can show up late.
When that happens Rock might say some things to make sure we are on the same page or he may not. Once he leaves I pick up and put on my robe, eat my breakfast and clean up. Then it is time for my meditation and work out. I am a serious practicing Buddhist but have many attachments to shed. I like yoga but prefer more movement in exercising but found it works best for me in the winter months. From April through October I generally like to jog, ride my bike and go swimming for my exercise.
Once done it is a shower and I am on with my day.
Snapshot Into My Life
So I claim to be a sex object which includes sex with many men outside of my husband.
So am I some constantly dressed up looking like a cheap hooker? No
Do I sit at home all day getting laid or masturbating? No
Do you speak like a brain dead bimbo when you are with your husband? No
Do you really just play this for fun a few hours here or there? No
Do you really only have sex with other men just occasionally? No
Then what is your life really like?
Imagine me as a somewhat classy call girl. Educated and living in upper middle class suburbia. To see me in public as a stranger you would not see anything out of the ordinary. To see me on occasion you might notice how I am pretty much always looking like I spent time on my appearance and my clothes are meant to signal I want to project sexy. To know my husband and I and some other people that know us you might have heard rumors or stronger words about my sleeping around or of an open marriage.
But like a classy call girl underneath the surface is a completely different life that revolves primarily around sex. Eating habits and exercise strongly dedicated to because appearance is so important. Neighbors that just cannot figure out what goes on with that house and them but they seem very nice, normal and in love, but why all those cars with single men come over for a short time and leave, including some during the day when hubby is at work. Why is she always in a robe or a bikini so often when I spy on her from our window and see her outside?
Rock, my husband, likes to describe our life like this. Imagine a zealot and perpetually horny but clueless and incompetent pimp who falls in love with his only whore. He wants her always in whore mode and whores her out but just almost always forgets to charge for her services.
Imagine a married woman with children. Ask her who she is? You would probably get a reply like I am a mother first, wife second and so on. Ask her if she is ever not a mother and get a big no! Well I am a sex object for my husband to instruct and play with first with no close second even if the second is all my other wifely duties. Take all the time a normal woman might take for a full time job, being a Mom and the extra chores and other demands being a couple have that my husband prefers I do not worry about. Take all that time and use it to maximizing the sex object life.
It is our real life and not us playing in our life
I live my sexuality somewhat opposite of the rest of Americans. Mine is exaggerated in its importance. Most Americans tend to be dismissive about its importance in a long term relationship. Most women dress based on a combination of their mood and place they will be. My mood is irrelevant and the places have limited choices. Most women who are feeling particularly horny or affectionate might do something extra in their dress and light interactions (flirtatious behavior) with or other leading up to a time to get sex rolling. I dress that extra and concentrate to the point it becomes second nature most of the time that flirtatious behavior but in degrees with other men as well.
But here is the big difference in the mind set. Most other women do these things to get something specific they want, attention, affection and sex. Most women when their husband caresses one of their breasts it is a do I want to move forward to sex or not. Most women when they are hugging their guy and caressing their guy’s crotch with their leg are sending a signal. That is not my life.
Dressing to be sexual is not based on accomplishing anything more then just dressing. My husband or for that matter any man caressing my breast is for their pleasure and if it leads to anything or not is irrelevant to me and has zero to do about my pleasure. When I hug depending on the setting and people they get as sexualized hug standard as appropriate and nothing to do with my mood or motivation. I am sex object for others not myself.
In fact that is how my orgasms are thought about, they are not. Nothing I do, including fucking the goal is orgasms for me. If they happen, and they do, great but not anyone else’s problem. In fact Rock will tell men out right think of me as a whore that you paid a lot of money to. Do you really give a shit about her pleasure because she is going to act like it anyway. I do because I am a sex object first and foremost for others and not just myself, masturbation in private if I really need an orgasm.
I end with one more example of my life. I catch a man looking at my pussy as I am sitting down wearing a short skirt and my legs placed gave him a nice angle in all probability by accident. What do I do? Very simple, let him keep looking unless I can give him a better view with out being too crass. I am a sex object for other’s pleasure.