Tuesday, January 26, 2010

What It Feels Like For This Girl…

I wish he is standing right next to me now. I hope he can see through my eyes, feel with my heart, touch with my hands and understand what it truly feels like for this girl…


Friday afternoon in the city. Office girls prettify themselves, ready to meet up with friends and lovers. Mostly lovers. It is all very false-festive for me. As everyone's mood lightened up, as hair was being let down from their tight ponytails and blazers removed to reveal some sexy and oddly shimmery blouse underneath, I started to resent not having plans of my own. I just smiled at my friends and pretended to be excited for them. It is difficult to truly share the Friday enthusiasm of the women whom I have shared the four walls of this office for years now.

On a Friday, as if on cue, my friends ask about my plans for the evening…Will a boyfriend pick me up? Or a suitor maybe? The truth is, that ritual never appealed to me. I didn't like boyfriends or suitors coming to my place of work, even on a Friday. Something about keeping my personal and professional life separate.

The last of my coworkers left their desks, chattering happily towards the elevators, cell phones held to their ears.

I looked at my second cellphone. Only one other person knows the number of this phone, Ed. It is the only means of communication I have with him. The screen was blank. No missed calls. Not even an unread message.

I typed an SMS comprised of ten dots---not words, just dots.

Moments later he sent me a message back with our safe word. He wasn't free to text me back.

While the thought of a special someone picking me up after work didn't really appeal to me, stepping out of my office building and seeing all the happy faces of lovers reunited after less than 12 hours of separation made me wish I had a man who was free to be seen with me.

The city lights flickered on one by one and the tall buildings set against an orange sun setting in the horizon was just beautiful. I stood outside my office building, hoping to find a cab soon and escape back into my apartment. There were too many people trying to get cabs but instead of the annoyed, almost angry look I expected to see in their faces when some other couple gets the cab first, I instead saw huge smiles..

This is probably how love looks like.

The couple in front of me was holding hands, the girl leaning her head against her boyfriend's shoulder. She raised her lips to his and before he kissed her, they looked at each other for what felt like a full minute. And all around them, the throng of strangers seemed to be non-existent.

This is probably how love looks like.

Two women passed in front of me and they were holding hands. Even lesbians appreciate Friday afternoons.

But not me.

This is what it feels like for this girl. She's tough, or at least she pretends to be. She doesn't need a man's protection but deep inside, she wishes there was a man who would worry enough to actually pick her up after work. She doesn't need a man's gifts although flowers would really make her smile and brighten her day. She never takes personal phone calls—she's all about business and that self-assuredness she's been admired for but when she's alone, she looks at her personal phone, willing it to ring, hoping to hear his voice on the other line. She is independent and doesn't even like roommates but when she flicks on the lights of her empty apartment, she wishes there was someone she can home to.

This is what it feels like for this girl.

Monday, January 25, 2010


There is nothing like the smell of bleach to keep my mind occupied by other things and away from my mounting frustrations.

I scrubbed the sink with the same ferocity I use when dealing with the daily troubles of my colorful life. My knuckles hurt from the force I exerted on each helpless tile. This sink has to be squeaky clean and sparkling white. Now, if only my relationship with Ed could be as clean. If only I could pour bleach on our lives and remove the stains tarnishing my love story, the stains that are keeping me away from the only thing I want most now.

More bleach. My nostrils stared to burn and I choked in a lungful of air to keep me from fainting. More bleach. I didn't care about putting a mask on. I didn't care about my freshly manicured nails. I had to do something to keep my mind busy. I suppose I will clean the entire house next, starting with the bathroom.

While I am used to him canceling at the last minute because he noticed a car tailing him, I can't help beating myself up for having any expectations at all. I have made a pact to myself never to expect him to be around even if he promises to see me. I swore never to feel bad if he cancels, never to take it against him. Yet, I can't help feeling sad for myself for putting up with this.

My cellphone beeped incessantly. I knew it was him. A few apologetic text messages are now crowding my phone's inbox. I can't bring myself to respond to him and tell him it's alright. I miss him so it's not fair for the private investigators to be tailing him all day and night!

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid sink.

Total Submission

A few days before, he had told me to free up my Saturday night. I am only too excited to cancel movie night with my friends. Opportunities to spend more than three hours with him are too few and far between. I'd drop whatever I am doing and cancel everything I had planned to be with him. Lately, we don't plan to see each other days ahead. What with the Jason Bourne and Marie Kreutz stunts Ed and I have to pull just to see each other, our appointments cannot be planned. It was always urgent, a spur of the moment, that chance we can take as a result of the PI's incompetence. Private Investigators tailing us have been a part of daily life. I can't say it's not interesting. The thrill of our illicit sexual encounters fuels our fantasies and heightens our need for each other so much that it took our sex life to a notch higher. So this Saturday evening, it'll be all about messy sex: spit, cum, lube and anal.

A faint knock on the door sent my senses into overdrive. I greeted him at the door naked -as was his requirement. There he was, standing outside my door again, my sex god, the man who took my non-existent unresolved daddy issues and my incest fantasies to a whole new level, making it an addiction, a fetish I will never outgrow. Ed and I have been together for a year but until now, I still get star struck when I see him.

I wrapped my arms around him and ran my fingers over his neck and his back, examining him, as If he was just a vision that might disappear any minute. He brushed his lips against my cheek and my senses raced into full-blown overdrive. This week-long sexual abstinence disrupts my normal body functions, distracts me at work, makes me anxious and moody. Sex calms me down. If I can have it everyday, I'd be calmer, more productive at work, happier. He is my drug and he's come to me tonight to deliver on his promises of making me his slave again.

I kissed his lips lightly. He wrapped his hand around my hair and pulled my head back gently so that he could look at me, examine my face and my naked body. My master leaned to kiss my lips, still holding my head so that I couldn't move my lips with his. Without warning, he dragged me by the hair to the bed. I don't expect him to be gentle. I don't want my man to be gentle.

In the bedroom, he forced me to kneel on all fours, his hand still wrapped around my hair. His lips brushed against my skin gently and his tongue traced light patterns on shoulders. While his mouth was gentle, his hands were fierce. With one hand wrapped around my hair and the other around my neck, I could barely move as he pulled me back closer to him. He whispered "my slave" and I sighed in pleasure. I've waited so long to serve him again…

Sunday, January 24, 2010


I closed my eyes and ran my fingers over my body, remembering how he had ravaged me only moments ago....I missed him the moment he stepped out the door and I had to calm myself down, telling myself over and over again that he will be back soon.

I wonder if I will ever need another human being the way I need him now.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Eleven pm on a Saturday night, I was alone again in my apartment. I have not had a moment of peace inside my head since August 2009 so this--this moment that felt a lot like the serenity after an explosive orgasm--is a rare experience.

As I sat naked in front of my computer, I realized it was unwise to disappear from blogging. The latter part of 2009 was filled with so much drama, so much emotional strife and so many stories would have been told out of them.

I've come out of hiding to tell you my story. Where do I begin?

2009 came and went.

I am still a mistress.

It has been nearly a year since I met Ed, nearly a year of being in love with a man I may never have. It was pure lust in the beginning and we were fine until we fell in love.

Now, we've had more reason to hide our relationship, more reason to hold on to what we've found with each other until he is legally free to be with me.

It's all very clear to me now. I know what I want. I am in love and I want to be happy. I have no remorse for taking a married man away from his wife.

I am in love. I will wait for him.

* * * * * *