"You know what I miss?" He asked as we climbed into bed.
"My flat tummy?" I guessed while staring at the huge swelling remorsefully. Some days I feel like I am going to pop.
"Nah." He said. "I think your belly is beautiful."
I smiled. "What do You miss?" I asked.
"I miss you ovulating."

I blinked. Never would I have guessed that it would be that.

"Are You horny, Babe?" I asked.
"No! Well, yes, but that is not it. I mean, all orgasms are good, but when you are ovulating, there is this urge and...you know!"

I grinned, because I did know what He was talking about. I think it is much the same for Him as it is for me, that feeling that sex is not just wanted, it is needed. For me it is a deep and powerful urge to make Him spurt all of his spunk inside me. For Him it is a deep and powerful urge to spurt all of His spunk inside me. It always makes the sex intense.

I kissed Him and I reached down to gently stroke His cock. "I can't ovulate for You right now." I said. "But I promise to start as soon as I can after this child is born."

He grinned at me and I kissed Him again.

"What I can do now," I whispered as I continued to stroke Him, "is tell You about my ex-boyfriend, the one I had in high school. I could tell You about the things he used to do to me when he had me tied to the kitchen table and how disgustingly wet it used to make me."
"You wicked girl." He groaned. "Tell me."

I still don't understand why jealousy works for Him this way but it does. It makes Him come so very hard for me. He says that it is powerful, a strong desire to overpower any man that has had me before and even though it sometimes makes Him scowl, the intensity of the sex is worth it. If I get jealous, I just want to stab the cow in the face and smile pleasantly while pulling out the knife. But jealous lust makes Him want me.

This morning as we lay in bed, Mac stroked my back gently.

"You were a very dirty girl last night." He whispered, grinning. "I should tell your mother what you said."
I giggled. I honestly did. I out and out giggled like a little girl caught doing something she knows is naughty. "You wouldn't do that." I said. "Because then I wouldn't do it again tonight."
He pretended to ponder this for a moment. "You are right." He said. "I won't tell, as long as you promise to always love me this much. You are utterly gorgeous."

As much as I would have liked to make that promise to Him, I just couldn't bring myself to lie to Him.

I know that by tonight, I will already love Him more.

Sometimes, even when we think we have talked something out,we both hold things back and that leads to trouble.

Mac came home last thursday and told me he had gotten a call from a friend. Some of 'the guys' were going to a cabin for some 'fishing' for the weekend. (None of them own fishing gear. They really go to play poker and drink a lot of alcohol.) It was late notice, but that is the way they always do it. They are never big on planning. I have been sick and Mac has been busy at work, so there has not been a lot of us time and Mac said He was not going away because I needed Him.

I guess it came from not wanting to be selfish, I pushed the point. I didn't want Mac not to go because of me. I told Him that I didn't need Him. I have had lots of people around to help me. He should go if that is what He wanted. He said again that He wouldn't go because I wanted Him around. I told Him that me wanting Him here was not a good enough reason not to go if He wanted to go. I told Him that He should do what He wanted to do.

He said OK. He would go.

And He went. He had a good time. He came home dishevelled, tired but somewhat content. Alcohol and poker with just the guys is a good cure for stress. He showered and He came to sit with me. I was happy to have Him home. He held me and told me some funny stories that the guys had shared. I laughed with Him. Then He asked me what was wrong. I was surprised that He could feel it. He asked if it was because He had been out and about while I had been stuck at home again. I told Him it wasn't that. I was happy that He got to go. Then I asked Him not to be angry or upset at me if I told Him the truth. He said that He would not be angry.

So I told Him the silly truth, that I had not really wanted Him to go. I had just wanted Him to not want to go. But then He had said He wanted to go, and I wanted Him to have what He wanted. He seemed surprised. He said that He had told me He didn't want to go, but I had pushed Him into it. I said that what I had heard Him say was that He wanted to go, but wouldn't because of me. I had not wanted Him missing out because of me. He smiled and held me tight. He said He honestly would not have minded if He had not gone. He would have liked spending time with me. He had wanted to be with me. He figured when I kept pushing, that I didn't want to spend time with Him. I sighed. He kissed me.

He said it is ok to have missed out on a weekend together because we didn't say what was really on our minds. We have a long time to be together and next time we would take more care with what we said. We both learned a lesson from this.

This weekend we are spending it together. I am still not 100% so we are staying in, playing with Sarah Jane, taking it easy. It is nice. I still like being around Him.

I hope that never changes.

Some things:

I have been sick with the flu for two weeks. It sucks big time. I was feeling much better last weekend then it somehow freshened up and the same symptoms happened all over again. Mostly I have been lying around doing nothing while my mum has done all the house work. I have been so tired. I have read so many books. I have napped with Sarah Jane who has not caught it. I have slept in Mac's arms and He has not caught it either. I am getting better now. It is good to be able to breathe without feeling like I am drawing air from underwater. Both my mum and Mac have been wonderful and supportive while I have been ill. I just want to say, if you know you are sick, stay away from pregnant women. Their bodies are already under a lot of strain and they can't take the same drugs that you can to alleviate the symptoms. It really has left me feeling drained.

...

Last night I was snuggled up with Mac watching a movie and the young women in the movie were swearing like they were men. It reminded me of a trip I took into the city recently. Mac had gone in early in the morning to work. I followed Him at lunch time. Sarah Jane has been having one night sleep overs at her nanna's in preparation for the arrival of the bump. As Mac was staying in the city, we thought it would be a good chance to have a nice dinner and a night in a nice hotel together. We had a lovely time. But the trip in I was in the middle of a train carriage. Three girls and two boys aged somewhere between 16 and 19 (guessing here!) were sitting at the end of the carriage. I can offer no reason why they thought the whole rest of the carriage wanted to hear about their plans for a party, why they hate their parents, where they were going when they got to the city and why the girl they were meeting was a skank, but they spoke at the TOP of their voices for the entire trip, screaming with laughter at things only they found funny and just generally being selfish and uncaring about the people that had to share the carriage with them. A request from another person in the carriage for them to keep it down was met with threats and bravado which made others roll their eyes. It was a relief to be away from them.

But what I remembered most was they were three pretty girls who thought that the word 'fuck' made them sound more sophisticated or something. It didn't. It made them sound cheap. Sure, I say it. I admit to using that word when I am made but you will never hear me say 'This fucking train is fucking slow.' And then there was the word 'cunt'. Again, I use the word to name a part of my body. I do not use it to say 'fucking show me the fucking message, you cunt'. And even when I am using it in the blog or during sex talk with Mac, sometimes He will put a total ban on it because He feels I am using it too much. It is a powerful word that should be used for its shock value in bed, not because you are annoyed with one of your friends. Overuse of it makes it just another word. If it is banned for a few weeks, it goes back to being a dirty word for erotic purposes. "Stick it in my cunt, please?" Mmmmm.

I wish someone would tell the young women of today that swearing in public doesn't make you cool. It just makes you look like you don't have a big enough vocabulary to express yourself. Read some books, expand your world and you will discover that swearing for the sake of it just makes you look uneducated. You should strive to improve yourself, not sink to the level of the local thugs. They are not cool either. Most of them are heading for an early grave. Is that really who you want to be like?

...

The bump is apparently developing nicely according to the doctor. My flu has not affected the bump at all that we can tell. It has gone on growing properly and the rest I have been getting is probably doing me good. I am a little concerned about Sarah Jane as I am sure Daddy's Little Princess is about to get her nose put out of joint when she has to share us with a squalling mass of blankets. I was discussing this with my mum and dad as Sarah Jane dragged one of her baby dolls around the family room by the hair. My dad said that as long as the baby was born with a lot of hair, Sarah Jane will be able to show the baby around. Mental note to self: Always make sure the baby is out of Sarah Jane’s reach when you are not watching them.

...

I had an epiphany the other day. At least it felt like an epiphany to me. I was all snuggled up on the couch by myself. Mum was off in the kitchen making a nice thick stew for dinner and Sarah Jane was upstairs taking a nap. I had the television turned off because it was making my head ache and I was just sitting, my hands in my lap, thinking about Mac, when suddenly I realised that He was a part of me. I don’t mean just a part of my heart or a part of my soul, but, I could feel Him inside me, living, breathing, His heart beating. He wasn't just a part of me. He was alive in me. I realised that no matter what is in store for us in the future and I am sure there is a hell of a lot we have not even imagined could happen, Mac will always be there, right inside me, guiding me, loving me, protecting me. If I just think about it, I can find Him there. It feels warm and beautiful and safe.

I told Mac about it when He got home. I told Him because I promised myself that I won't protect myself from Him. He put His arms around me. He kissed me on the lips, on my eyes and on the tip of my nose and said He understood exactly what I meant. I knew then that right now, we are in sync. These are always the best of times.

...

"Say it?" He asked.
"I love you." I said.
"Yes, but say the other thing."
"Endlessly?"
"Yes. I love the way you say that."
"I love you endlessly."
"Thank you."

You are most welcome, Babe.

Endlessly.

He was already in the bedroom when I came in from brushing my teeth. He had the pillows arranged on the bed just so. I looked at Him, knowing what He wanted and I was not surprised to see that His cock was already hard. He patted the pillows.

"On your hands and knees, girl." He said.

I smiled at Him and climbed onto the bed, positioning myself with the pillows to support me and my hugely swollen belly. I need them these days, my back tires easily carrying around all this extra weight at the front. He held back long enough to make sure that I was comfortable then He knelt over the top of me, pushing His cock up against me while He whispered in my ear.

"Tell me you want it, Sarah." He said. One of His hands tangled in my hair and His teeth grazed my neck.
"I want it." I whimpered. "I want Your cock inside me."
"Greedy little whore." He said and He forced himself inside me.

And what followed wasn't pretty, or flowery or romantic. What followed was a good old fashioned fuck. His cock moved inside my cunt and it made a slick, wet sound. He pulled Himself out then pushed himself back in again. He moved back to His knees and placed a hand onto my lower back while the other held onto my hip. He grunted as He pulled out this time and I knew He was watching as His cock disappeared again. Then He did it again and again and again and I clenched my cunt muscles on Him because it feels better for both of us that way. He started to groan and His cock pulsed and I knew He was coming inside me. He kept moving, pushing His hips further and further until He was done. He reached around me while His cock was still inside me and He flicked His fingers across my clitoris until I came too, my orgasm forcing His softening cock from inside of me.

That was it. That was all. It was all it needed to be. There is no prose here, no need to embellish and make it seem like something else. It was fucking, raw, intense fucking. It was good, just like that.

I guess I am feeling a little jaded of late. Everything I read is so full of all this beautiful prose that leaves me wondering if I am missing something. Glistening petals covered in gentle dew, opening for the sword. It's a cunt, a wet cunt at that, being penetrated by a cock. I am not sure why it has to be something more.

Mac says it is the books fault I am feeling this way. I read Atonement. I made it all the way to the end. Mac made it to the bit where she dove into the fountain before He gave up on it. I made it to the end because I was sucked in by one line. "In my dreams I kiss your cunt, your sweet wet cunt." In that one line in the book, I found honesty. Unfortunately, it was the only honest line I could find. But I was sure, absolutely sure that if I just kept trudging on, I would break through to where there were more.

I am sure there are people that love the book and I think if it is what works for you, then great! I mean, they made a movie out of it so it must have impressed a lot of people. And I guess also that it is rather arrogant of me to offer up my opinion on a work that has received so much praise. But on the other hand, I am a reader too, and I believed the people that told me it was a must read. (And yes, young girl at the counter who gushed breathlessly that she had just started reading this book and it was brilliant, I am including you!) I bought it on their word. So I am saying now, if you haven't bought it and you don't like reading flowery prose and you do like a little thrill in what you read, leave this one on the shelf.

Sighs.

At least the sex we had was good.

He said... "You are a sweet, fragile, beautiful soul, and I am glad you were given to me to take care of."

She fell in love with Him again.

I wrote Mac an email this morning. I wrote it because before He left for work, we had sex. It wasn't just ordinary sex. It was mean, vicious, but bump safe sex, emotionally draining sex more than physically taxing. And then He had been late and in a hurry to get out, to try and make it in time for work.

I was thinking about Him, and us and what I was feeling and I thought that I should tell Him how it made me feel so I sat down and I wrote to Him. I left nothing out.

When it was done, it was filled with things like 'I love you' and 'You fill me with happiness,' and 'Even when you are not here with me, I still feel you inside me, a constant part of me.' Soppy, I know. Girly too. But it was the truth of what I was feeling and I felt it was very important that I tell Him. I thought that He should know.

And as I was about to hit send, the phone rang and I answered it. It was Him.

"Hello gorgeous." He said.
I smiled. "I was just emailing You!"
"Mmmm." He murmured. "That sex this morning. God. How hot was that?"
"Yes. It was very hot." I said, feeling myself blush. I suddenly felt silly. I was thinking about how much I adored Him and was about to tell Him so, and He was thinking how hot the sex was. I was glad I had not sent the email.
"Is that what you were emailing me about?" He asked.
"No." I said. "I am not going to send it. It doesn't matter."
"Send it." He said and I could almost hear the frown.
"Why?" I asked as I hit send.
"Send it now." He said.
"I did."
"Ok. It's here. Let me read it."
"I shouldn't have written it." I said. "I should have written about the sex."
"Hush. I am reading."

I waited quietly on the end of the phone. I felt really foolish. I know that of late I have held back on the affection. I have rationed the emotion. I was trying not to overload Him because sometimes I know I can get too much, especially when I am feeling this close to Him. It scares me and I hold back thinking that if it scares me, it must scare Him too. Then I let my guard down and write something like this and I felt like I shouldn't have. I should have just stuck to the lust. I should have kept what I was feeling to myself.

"That is perfect." He said softly. "Sarah that is just what I wanted to hear. To know that I can do those things to you, say those things, have you say them and to know at the end of it all you feel like this, it makes the sex 100 times better. And it was pretty damn fucking good already."

And the foolishness was gone, just like that. It should never have been there to begin with. Just because He speaks of the sex, doesn't mean He isn't feeling what I am feeling. He just has a different way of saying it. I have to remember that He likes to hear that I love Him too.

"Babe?" I whispered when I realised it was ok to breathe.
"Sarah?" He said, just as quietly.
"I want more." I was hiding behind my hair, even though He couldn't see me. I know that He knew it.
"Me too." He said. "I am hard just thinking about it. When I get home tonight, I am going to have more. Aren't I?"
"Anything You want, Baby, it's Yours." I was smiling.
"God you are gorgeous. I just adore you." He said. "Now I have work to do. Shoo!"
"I love you." I said.

We were both grinning when we hung up the phone.

Sometimes you just have to take the risk and tell them what you really honestly feel.

It is worth it. It honestly is.

I was about to write something artistic and airy here, something that tried to convey the deep satisfaction I feel from a simple action in as few words as possible when I read the comments on the last post and realised that it would just be meaningless gumph written in a feeble attempt to satisfy the readers here, which, despite what some people think, is not the purpose of my blog. Yes I can write artsy and gusty and with feeling and sometimes I can make you cringe and sometimes I can make you melt and sometimes I can make you feel what I am feeling, but that is not my purpose here.

It was claimed that I need you all more than you need me. I have never seen this relationship with my blog as a need. I have never thought of any of you as needing me. I may be arrogant (and yes, I admit that at times I am arrogant) but I was never arrogant enough to think that people out there, strangers, read my little piece of the human race puzzle and needed me.

Nor do I feel that I need you. I am not saying I don't love you. I do. I love my readers and sometimes, because I know how slack I have been of late, I come here especially to write for you, which is what the artistic airy writing would have been. I love you all and there are times when I feel that I should give you something, even if it is an airy fairy part of me, I should give that to you because you are waiting so patiently for me to come back from whichever crisis I have been lost in. Sometimes I do lose sight of what this place is for and sometimes I do need a good kick up the bum to remember. This is my place, the only other place in the world where I do not have to be afraid to be me.

If you read me, thank you. I do enjoy your company. Thank you for coming along for my own little ride through life. I hope you come back again. If you can feel some of what I write then I am glad that I can touch you in some way. It does bring me happiness that I can do something so simple as share what I feel and have others understand. Yes, sometimes my Husband is a selfish git that frustrates me beyond belief. Sometimes I could just wrap my hands around his neck and shake until He listens to me. But He is MY Husband, MY lover, MY love, MY heart, MY gorgeous darling Male whom I just utterly and totally adore, even when He isn't doing what I want Him to do.

And this may surprise some of you, but our family, well, I hate to admit this, but it's not just all about me. Some of you saw Mac as an ogre that left His pregnant wife behind while He was out having some sort of party time. Yes, I felt abandoned, but the truth is, I had every opportunity to go with Him. If He had a blog, maybe some of you would have seen me as the ogre that refused to support her husband's career. I don't bring in an income. I leave that up to Mac, and yet, when He made the choice He thought was financially best for His family, I refused to follow Him. Maybe, just maybe, He felt abandoned too. And maybe, just maybe, I hurt Him, though in truth, He would never tell you that. He had a really hard time even admitting it to me, and He only did that after it was over.

I am not weak, I am not helpless, and I am not the only victim here. I am not alone. I am part of a couple, of a family. Mac is a part of me and I am a part of Him. When we fall apart, the simple truth is both of us get hurt. I am just able to express it more freely then He can. It does not mean I hurt Him any less. I am the only person who knows how much I hurt Him. It saddens me that I could do that, just as it saddens Him that He could do it to me.

I am not saying that Mac was right for going overseas, but nor am I saying I was right by not going with Him. Maybe there was some compromise the both of us missed. Maybe we were both so caught up in what we wanted as individuals that for a while that we forgot that we are a family. I think in hindsight that both of us got it very wrong and now we are working together to rebuild what we had, because we are good together. We love each other. We adore each other. We want to be a family, so we have worked through the tough times in order to enjoy the good times again.

Because of this, I do not see my husband as a pig. I see Him more as an honourable man willing to put in the hard work to make things between us right. I am not sure why people think that I can do better than a man who wants to come home to me at the end of the day. Why they think I want something more than the man I absolutely and totally adore. I don’t get it, but if you can tell me why, without resorting to name calling and rudeness, I will certainly listen. I will listen and consider what you have to say. I believe you do have a right to your opinion on my life. I put it out here, in public where everyone can see it. But I do not set out to insult you with my writing and I do not see why I should have to put up with insults from anyone else. I used to. I would leave up all the rude and ugly things people had to say because I felt that I deserved it in some way. I don’t. No one here does. So read and pass judgement. Tell me why you hate what I write, or why I should live my life a different way, or why I should leave my husband, but do it without being rude, without being nasty, without resorting to calling of names. Because if you have to do any of those things, if you can't say it nicely, then maybe instead of commenting to me, you should take some time to think about why you need so badly to use your time and your words to try and hurt me. I don't think the problem is me.

Once again, thank you all for taking the time out of your day to read my little piece of the world. I do appreciate you stopping by. Mac, Sarah Jane, the new bump and I are all doing just fine. If possible, Mac and I are even more crazily in love, more appreciative of each other. Maybe we had to give up some of us to realise just how much we needed to be together.

Lesson well learned.

We are not letting go anytime soon.