The only thing that’s ever sustained me,
that’s ever made up for the degree to which everything otherwise seems pointless and mean and wrong,
are intense and mysterious emotional experiences that stick in my soul until I can work them into something beautiful.
 Charlotte Shane – Prostitute Laundry

—–
Diary entry with erotic story ending. Lauren is on her first real date with Big in months, and she’s reminded of her early beginnings as a mistress. She has rocked being the third woman since high school. 

Saturday December 23, 2017

Big asked me what I had looked like, at seventeen.
The age where I had my first affair with someone who was already involved with someone else. It had lasted for over six months and I had ended it because we were only making out, and rubbed a bit. Usually fully clothed.
Never mind the relationship not going anywhere; I had a sexual agenda.
I had been ready for real sex before my former boyfriend had dumped me right before my (our!) 17th birthday. And before we could share that first time together.
The ex did have his first time sex before his (and mine!) 17th birthday. With someone else.
Leaving me not just heartbroken, but a virgin as well. Which I probably found even more unforgivable. So the clock was ticking as to exactly HOW MUCH he had beaten me to the punch. Of exactly HOW MUCH he had hurt me. And although I was absolutely devastated, like any teen receiving a blow like that, I was also drawing a line at turning eighteen a virgin.
My virginity was the painful evidence that I had been dumped.
I needed it gone.
So although I adored my secret make-out buddy (secret meaning our entire school knew but not his girlfriend), I took matters into my own hand. I said yes to a guy who was four years older than me.
He wasn’t a player.
He had lived together with his previous girlfriend and now owned his own apartment. He could cook, possessed the basic skills of keeping his house clean and he had two cats. He was exactly the drama-free boyfriend I was looking for.
And he stayed a great boyfriend. I left him three years later, but only because I wanted more excitement. Not because he had let me down in any other way than the one I could have predicted from the start.
It wasn’t until recently that I remembered that there had been someone before this three year long carefree relationship.
Someone important I mean.
Because I had kissing sessions with a variety of men. Two of them were gay. They were my favorite, and the only ones I would do reruns with, aside from the cheating guy. Big asked me that as well; how many men I had kissed.
This was after we had a conversation about how many women he had slept with, a topic I had never thought I would be able to handle.
But that had been years ago.
Now it aroused me.
Anyway, he asked me how many men I had kissed and I laughed. And then he asked me if I still knew all their names. And I laughed again.
There were so many.
I never felt kissing counted for anything.
I mean other than a test if you wanted to go further. I also told Big I had some really strange experiences too; That sometimes the kissing had been amazing, and yet I had felt no desire to go further. What I didn’t tell was that sometimes the kissing had been terrible and yet I had pursued. And not without getting satisfying results in all other areas.
I ve never had bad sex in my life. I ve never misjudged sexual chemistry. But in retrospect I can say that my “kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince” logic was not a hundred percent accurate. Someone could be a prince in bed, when kissing like a frog. And someone could kiss like a bonafide prince, and I would still not take it further.
It was all very weird.
But I do like kissing, and maybe it did give me the right information since I never ended up with someone between the sheets that didn’t work out.
Anyway I was telling you about the cheating guy/mistress situation that I had apparently already worked myself into, age seventeen. This was such an eye opener to me! I knew that I was good at this whole being a mistress thing.
It suits my sexual preferences of wanting to be monogamous myself, but needing a guy I can admire and who I feel is sexually active with other women.
For starters with his wife.
Honestly, I feel that this aspect of sexual orientation – which basically comes down to preying on second hand sexual energy but being unable to digest it in its raw form (hence the monogamy on my own part) – is highly interesting! It has been the biggest takeaway from being a mistress.
Because that’s the third question Big asked me;
“What have you learned, these three years?”
I answered;
“That I am monogamous. That I like being committed to you.
But that I also need you to have other women. I need you to bring in that energy.”
I told Big the story of the cheating guy when I was seventeen. And that the most remarkable aspect of our liaison, was the group of friends in which it was embedded. Five guys and two girls, one of them was me. We went to each others birthday parties, we hang out on Fridays after school. We kept each other’s secrets.
When it was his birthday, he asked us over, and we all went.
His girlfriend was there.
I didn’t rat him out, nor did his friends. None of us did. We had a watertight pact of friendship and camaraderie. Our make-out sessions had not just created a bond between him and me. It closed the deal for our entire group.
Mister Big was cooking us dinner. Maybe that’s why we did so much talking. It was nice way to bond because it had been so long since we’d been together properly. With plenty of time, privacy and me not being in my period. With the prospect of having real all the way sex. Not just all the stuff I could do keeping my panties on.
The talking about sex and our relationship was foreplay.
We were taking accountability for our sins.
Just like the steak he made us; an animal had been killed to feed us. It was a mortal sin. One that bonded us.
Yesterday I saw the Last Jedi, the latest Star Wars movie. And it wasn’t until I was there, watching the high voltage sexual tension between bad guy Kylo Ren and good girl Rey, that I understood the full power of secrets, and dark stuff.
Understood why that group of friends formed a tight bond around the cheating of one of its members.
Why the affair between Big and me feels so sturdy, and forever growing stronger. Every rendez vous adding another layer to it.
First I thought it was the secretiveness of it. That shame, danger and fear are simply better building materials than love and transparency.
But the movie made me realize it was something else. And that it had been something else for three years. That it had been something else way back in the days when I was just seventeen.
And that this insight, this knowledge, was the reason that any affair born in the darkness has a lot higher chance of surviving than the one created in the light.
Like I said; it’s not that secrets and sins perse create a better bond. It’s because in relationships born from darkness, secretiveness and mortal sins, everything is included.
Everything is loved.
Someone’s light and someone’s darkness.
We love, accept, embrace, sit through it if we must – twice as much from each other. That’s why we, the sinners, create such strong ties.
We bond on what makes us good, and we bond over what makes us evil.
It’s the same reason in Star Wars the good guys have a lot worse time than the bad guys.
The good guys only accept their good deeds, and are ashamed if they fuck up, or have fucked up. Whereas if a bad guy fucks it up, he’s just sorry the job didn’t get done. He accepts everything from himself. The good and the bad.
Accepting all sides of yourself is the path to ultimate power.
Accepting all sides of the other is the path to ultimate love.
It’s not that within our relationship, or within ourselves, Big and me are all evil. We don’t like hurting others. But if that’s the way it has to happen in order to get something we want, we’ll do it.
It’s collateral damage.
Like the animal that had to be killed for our steak.
 An extra marital affair (and being good at it) means that we accept each other’s dark side. I fully accept him cheating and lying. And he accepts me needing other women, to be around somewhere. In order to stay fulfilled.
Me needing that second hand sexual energy.
Him needing that first hand sexual experience of having multiple partners.
And on top of this, we bond the same way other couples do. In the same magnetic, emotional, breath-takingly beautiful way we all do.
Or at least I do, ever since I got myself a proper boyfriend age seventeen.
I was sitting on top of Big, my feet next to his hips, sinking into the black leather of the couch. He was sitting up straight, embracing me as I lowered and he entered. Shallow fucking. I buried my face in his neck and sobbed. I said it was like I couldn’t feel how much I loved him until he was inside of me. He comforted me and kept fucking me in that same, light way that seemed to draw out every emotion that had been bottling up, all the months I had missed this.
It all came out.
I don’t think I ever cried so much especially not during sex so gentle and loving. After he came we lied together, in silence. I had my eyes closed to absorb every moment. In my imagination so did he.
His body felt warm and heavy.
“I had red hair,” I said. “Wavy. Down to my shoulders. I wore black clothes. Always. And I had porcelain skin and wore red lipstick.”

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living
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recommended for UK and US readers, the book about the first two years of my affair with Mr.Big; Big, erotica and diaries (2017)

aanbevolen boek NL:
Het boek Benjamin, verzameld werk Engels en Nederlands
Het verzameld werk is inclusief Big- het Engelstalige dagboek over mijn affaire met Mr.Big

Witte Tijgerin (€5) en Het Boek Benjamin (€45) zijn ook te koop bij de Feeks 
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