Sex And An Intimate Choke On A Stormy Evening

Sexual attraction is primeval. So are the emotions felt when a thunderstorm brews and unleashes hell. Both activate something deep within — at least it does for me. When the two of them meet, it’s more than I can stand. That’s why I love doing it in a storm. That’s my true kink. There’s something powerful and aggressive about nature’s wild side uniting with my wild thing. It stirs my inner-animal and makes the sex that much better.

Don’t misunderstand me, storms have an aggressive element, but I’m not an aggressive lover. That’s not me. I know aggression is used to lift some lovers to new heights of euphoria, but it’s still not my thing. Euphoria can be obtained without it.

Similarly, I don’t reach out and choke my lovers during sex. I’m more a meat and potatoes kind of lover. Biting, slapping, whipping and choking aren’t part of my sexual appetites… but making love under a tropical thunderstorm is. I like how it makes me feel. It activates something inside. HE comes from another place of my psyche. HE feels things in ways I can’t. This is another layer of my sexuality hidden beyond the civilised one I usually present to most lovers.

That first crack of lightning is enough to activate it. First, it makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and then the rest of it follows. The sensation penetrates deep beyond my upper sensibilities and finds that mysterious level of sexual subconsciousness I need to cross over. I’m like a wild beast with a veracious new energy when the storm rages around me!

But I’m not a choker! Definitely not! Remember that when I tell you the next part of my story. It’s important to keep it in mind. I don’t choke. Here I go. Now take a deep breath, Mitchell. Make sure you get this right.

Last night, I held Nina down. That part is in no way extraordinary. Our sexual synergy took us outdoors. It was actually her idea. “Let’s try something different,” she said.

I was on top, so of course I held her body in place. It was missionary. Simple. Meat and potato love in the privacy of the backyard. Her knees were pointed towards the night sky, and I was facing her, enjoying the moment. No one was being hurt. It was perfect. Nice. Things were orderly.

And then that small storm cell presented itself and covered the stars. It came out of nowhere and it moved fast.

There was a flash of light, a crack, and then a deep rumble which shook the ground. None of it was forecast. I know this because I made damn sure of it before setting up our date. It wasn’t meant to happen. I save that for others.

As expected, my neck reacted to the sound in an instant. Just like before, I couldn’t stop the sensations once they started. This time, an intense pain struck me right between the eyes. After it subsided and the fog it created had lifted, I saw a stranger’s hands appear from nowhere and slide around Nina’s neck. I felt my hips move much faster — and my sex reached a new level of hardness. Those hands clamped down tight, her eyes popped open, she gurgled and then struggled to get herself free of their grip. These are the last few things I remember as the rain began to fall. The rest of it fades into a blur.

A gentle hum of rubber on a dry road coaxed me back to reality. The bristles on my neck had subsided. Nina and the storm cell was gone. At some point, I must’ve dressed, left her place and got myself behind the wheel of my car. I should’ve been confused by this strange shift in memory, but I wasn’t. I was profoundly satisfied instead. Never before have I experienced such a sense of inner peace as I did last night.

That’s not the end of it. There’s a little more.

As I slipped into bed, Samantha woke, rolled over and whispered, ‘How was it, dear? Did you get everything done that you needed to?’

“Yes. All of it.”

“Oh, that’s good. Well, g’night. See you in the morning.”

She gave me a peck on the cheek, rolled the other way and went back to sleep. Can you believe it?

Yep, that’s her way. She’s too nice a person to probe any further. My wife performs every obligatory nicety with trust and grace — even through disturbed drowsiness. Like I said, it’s her way.

Sam has many sides of that nice order of hers. She goes to bed early, so she can wake early. There’s much to be done and little time to waste. I won’t see her until dinner, and I won’t feel her again until we go to bed tomorrow night. That’s when she’ll kiss my cheek, roll away and sleep. It’s been like that for years. It’s why we don’t have children. She’s obsessed with every duty outside the bedroom — and sleeping whenever she’s inside it. This makes her happy. It makes me sad and frustrated.

Yes, you guessed it. Nina’s a more willing partner in that respect, but she’s a—

Nina? Oh, you want to know about what happened to her during the storm?

Oh, I don’t know. I’m too afraid to call her and find out if she’s still alive. Those two hands weren’t mine. I’m telling you, they didn’t belong to me. My orderly upper consciousness tells me that I couldn’t have hurt her. It’s not within me to choke — but I’m also aware that there’s another something hidden deep beneath layers of civility. I don’t know where that finishes.

It’s also why I’m afraid to watch today’s news.

-Mitchell

Unbelievable Real Life Story Of Karma. It’s True. I Was There!


Karma! Justice’s bite! If Law fails, nature will succeed! That’s the way it works. Don’t you mess with karma baby! You will get yours!

Karma rights wrongs, our wrongs, their wrongs, those who have wronged us or others. Karma is meant to be a happy story. It’s the perfect ending to all tales of injustice — judged, sentenced and punished by the cosmos.

Karma swift kick

I’m a big believer in it, and I do f*cking like the giant foot karma swings at the asses of jerks. I’ve seen some good examples of it doing what it does. When writing SEETHINGS, I included the biggest one of all: A real-life karma moment, one I witnessed first-hand. You’ll probably disbelieve it, but here I go.

A woman I once dated had recently become separated from her common-law husband. She despised him for running off with their nanny.

What a prick! She invoked the power of karma to fix the error and send the man to oblivion for what he did.

I heard the story about his philandering, the lies he told her, their loud confrontation, a public argument and the police involvement to stop him from attacking her in the street. She was afraid for her life. But when she told it a second time, not everything lined up as it should’ve. The fear faded away.

The truth is easy. Lies are harder to remember.

The more times she told the story, the more she got its details wrong. As our relationship grew, its edges softened too. To get an understanding of what’d really happened in their relationship and after it, one had to spend a lot of time with her. Pillow talk revealed much. This went into the book. (Names were changed)

He never attacked her at all. Through a grin, she admitted she had attacked him. When he tried to leave her, she punched him through his car’s open window. She claimed he tried to run her down and kill her, but he didn’t. He was just trying to remove himself from the conflict — her abusive mouth and fists. Their child saw the last part of their fight, and the child’s recollection was used to support her mother’s part of the story.

The woman had lied to the police about the violence and then lied to the court system to get custody of their child. The lies continued as she stripped his bank account of its money. That was her perfect karma story for him sleeping around on her. She managed a good laugh at its conclusion.

Sleaze or not, he never attacked anyone. I felt sorry for the guy, and the daughter caught in the middle. The girl never saw her father again, and it all hinged on a threat that wasn’t real. Karma was about to play its part through me. (Read the next part very slowly!)

She drew back the living room curtains and light poured into the space.

“I built this home to have that view. Do you know the name of that mountain?” She asked, pointing to a scene well in the distance.

“Sure, it’s Mount Lindesay.”

I heard a loud gasp and then the curtains were snapped shut. The room went dark again.

That’s all I did, but it was karma doing its job, spewing from my mouth and into her ears. I had no idea that the mountain had the same name as her former partner. I didn’t know him at all! She never mentioned it until later. How could I know his name was Lindesay! What are the chances of that happening? It’s not even a common name!

Oops!

If only she’d researched the mountain before purchasing the land and instructing an architect to point her home’s windows right at it!

That grin vanished immediately, and the curtains remained closed from that day forward. I didn’t mind watching her deal with the news, not at all. I loved being its deliverer.

Karma kicked a deserved arse that day.

As far as I know, it’s still kicking it because she can’t move from her house. Her finances are tied to it, and moving to another one complicates things with the daughter’s new routines and school. Like I said, all of this went into the novel — but some readers have said it couldn’t be true because it’s too far-fetched. The coincidence is too ridiculous to be real.

That may be so, but it happened anyway. Read the book and decide for yourself.

Those who believe in karma won’t disagree, as this was always meant to be.

Michael Forman (Author)

P.S. Lindesay, if you’re out there and reading this, ‘N‘ got what she deserved. (Unfortunately, your daughter ‘J’ got caught up in the mess too.)

Five Random Victims
Summer Thunderstorms
Charm Bracelet
Author: M.Forman
Avail: Kindle, Kobo, Tablet, Etc.

Another Lonely Christmas?

We’re a married couple but live without intimacy. In our thirties, our family and friends think we’ve chosen not to have children, but that’s far from the truth. It’s too cold and lonely a place for them. Last Christmas came and went without so much as a kiss, and I’m expecting the same to happen this Christmas. I nurtured the holiday season as good as I could, with optimistic energy but, like the year before it, it was all for nothing. New Year’s Day was just as lonely — and so were all the days that followed it. Sex, if it’s to happen before this year is out, will be nothing short of a miracle.

My expectations are low but, unfortunately, I live with a tiny piece of hope inside me. It’s a horrible thing. Hope is like having a knife pointed at my chest but being told everything is fine. It’s a tormenting, torturous threat. In spite of our long history not having sex, a part of me still wishes for it. It kills me. What’s going to happen? Will this year finish the same way as last? Will that knife be plunged deep into my heart again?

Sexless Marriage Podcast

That’s why I’m dreading these upcoming holidays.

Birthdays, holidays, trips away, weekends — no time is a good time. My heart keeps breaking. I want to know what went wrong to deserve this sexless marriage. Did I say or do something wrong? I’d heard about married couples who went through inexplicable dry spells, but I thought that was a myth or fodder for comedians to use on stage.

Single people have a good reason to be alone. Married couples have no excuse. They can have sex anytime and anywhere. At least, that’s what I thought they could do. But we don’t, not ever.

Am I wrong to want? Do I expect too much?

How can we lay in the same bed and not want something more than just sleep? What are we supposed to be, only good friends?

It wasn’t always like this.

We used to have sex almost all the time. We couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves. That doesn’t happen now. A whole year can pass by before one comes to touch me again. And, when it does, it pulls back far too soon.

I just finished reading this insightful book. I heard about it on this podcast. It’s about an extreme sexless marriage… and it’s just like mine. Damn! It could be about us!

It’s pitiful. My soul has all but evaporated.

If I’d read it five years ago, it wouldn’t have made sense, but not now. I totally get it.

Just how long is too long before I give up, scream or go mad?

-Angelwanderer

Dark Adult Fiction (SEETHINGS). Character Spotlight: Super-Organised Samantha Felding.

Sam is a highly trustworthy, dependable woman — personable to all who encounter her. She’s a loyal friend, supportive sister and model daughter to her parents. Her work ethic is focused and flawless.

Samantha Felding.

  • Thirty-something
  • Married to Mitchell Felding (10 years.)
  • High School Educator
  • Self – Motivated
  • High Achiever
  • Dedicated Christian

Samantha remembers names, birthdays and anniversaries without prompts or notes. She reads the obituaries daily, just in case one someone she knows passes away. Sympathy cards are bought and sent via regular post frequently. Handwritten heartfelt messages always accompany them. Letters are written in long-hand, grammatically correct from the first word to the last.

There are calendars and clocks in every room of her home. A day planner sits on her desk, and she has three other diaries in the house. She has a plethora of reminder messages written on post-it notes which are stuck on a pin-board beside her computer. Not one second of her day is wasted on frivolous activities. She has organised everything within an inch of its life.

Some say she’s an old soul in a young body — too empathetic and disciplined to be a product of her generation. Winging-it isn’t in her vocabulary. There’s no such thing as making-it-up.

She’s a high-school teacher and very good at it. Her recent promotion to Department Head was a result of this officiousness. She deserved the appointment too. Those she works with, agree with the new placement and responsibilities.

She’s an intelligent, strong and independent woman. Ask her if she’s a feminist, and she’d answer with a resounding no. She’d simply say she was, getting the job done – a trait of humbleness she got from her mother.

Oh yes, that hard-working, quiet-achiever type is a nice trait, but it can fool the best of them. Husband Mitchell sees another side that isn’t shown to anyone else. Deep on the inside, Sam’s a mess. She’s conflicted with the pressures of modern life. She’s a professional woman struggling with the expectations of feminism, religion, and old-fashioned values against new-world demands. This comes at a price. It makes her doubt herself all the time. It also keeps her asking herself over and over: ‘Am I doing enough for God?’

She tries so hard not to disappoint Him. She’s got something to worry about every second of the day. Sugar can prompt a worrisome event. Brown or white sweetener for guests? Should it come in a bowl with a shared spoon and some stirrers, or is it proper to provide individual spoons at each place-setting? What if the coffee is too strong, or not strong enough? What if the discussion turns political while they’re drinking it? There should be a go-to topic just in case. Tea must be made available too. Artificial sweetener? Yes, some people are on diets.

It’s difficult to be Sam.

Needless to say, spontaneity threatens to ruin Sam’s carefully arranged world. Even Mitchell has to book-in to visit his wife. Sex is a somewhat frivolous activity, disorganised and messy. It’s last on Sam’s to-do list. That’s why, after a decade, the couple are childless and Mitchell has a taken up a new hobby.

Counsellor Tony Brindell is about to open Pandora’s Box by asking him one simple question.

Michael

“Forman’s writing style is artful, with the protagonist Mitchell’s warped thought processes masterfully exposed. The author has a powerful and vivid command of language, and his word pictures are stark and disturbingly real.”

– Linda J Bettenay, author of ‘Secrets Mothers Keep’ and ‘Wishes For Starlight’.

Secret Affair Confession: ‘The Kisses Taste Way Better.’

I must confess, the touches are tinglier too. I wish I’d done this sooner. The amount of nights I spent awake, thinking about cheating, was endless. Last night, l finally crossed over and did it. And I’m not sorry, either. It’s naughty, and I don’t mind sharing my secret with you here. To hell with you if you’re a hater! Haters don’t know what I’ve been through. I had no choice but to go outside my marriage. I needed this so much!

How to kiss properly

Cheating keeps me sane. Without it, I’d be climbing walls. My spouse has no time for intimacy. It’s always work, work, work. I’m done with being second best and low-priority. Being taken for granted isn’t what I signed up for. The second chances I kept giving my partner ran out, so I made a choice. I’ve done more with my secret FWB in three months than I did in the last decade. We do everything we don’t experience at home. That’s why our meetings are so precious. There’s so much more freedom. The bizarre marital restrictions at home don’t matter.

Yes, we did marriage counselling. Better communication techniques were applied through couple’s therapy. We tried date nights too, romantic weekends away, but nothing worked. Married life became awkward. It wasn’t the way I expected to live. Monogamy was the dream. It’s just it didn’t work out like I planned.

If it weren’t for this new arrangement, Nina’s life would be as sexless as mine. We crave touch, but our spouses are absent. They live with us, but they’re not with us. It’s complicated to an outsider, but it’s not to us.

Secret Affair kisses

Before this affair, I had to embrace defeat or make some radical changes to my way of thinking. Something had to break, so I broke. Now I’m happy. So is my wife. I don’t look to Samantha for sex anymore, and she likes that. She stays busy, doing the things that make her happy. Sex isn’t one of them.

Nina’s marriage is almost the same as mine. If her husband isn’t too busy for sex, he’s too tired to play.

She and I love our spouses, we just didn’t like the icy lifestyles. We wanted fire! It’s delicious to burn. We know how to cook. Eating leaves smiles on our faces.

Are we too demanding for our spouses? Perhaps. If quick vanilla twice a year is demanding, then yes, we’re guilty. There are no strange kinks with us. Most of what we want is to feel human again. We like to kiss. Hugging is high on our list too. Sex completes us. Our problems are solved with this arrangement, and two marriages are improved for it.

Should I stay in this secret affair

Would I tolerate this behaviour if it were my wife doing it and not me?

Ten years ago, I’d have said no in an instant. Now, if taking a lover made her happy, then I’d have to think a second time before saying anything. Happiness for me required a behavioural change to take place deep inside me. I needed to accept a new kind of normal. Sure, if Sam wanted it, I’d consider accepting a new kind of normal. Change is good. Why can’t we embrace change? Change can help us all if we expanded our minds and put our trust in love, not sex.

Who am I kidding? She wouldn’t think like that. She doesn’t need sex. Books do it for her. Reading is her pleasure. We’ve a growing library on her side of the bed, and I’m not worth placing a bookmark into any of their pages for a moment of romance.

She’s asexual. That’s all there’s to say. Don’t over-think it. No sex is best sex.

I know what you’re wondering. Kids? No. We have no children. That’s why we have three healthy teenage-sized piles of books along her side of the bed instead. I allow my wife to read without distraction, and I get laid.

And then six women died in mysterious circumstances. It was all over the news. Maybe you know one of the victims.

Angelwanderer.

Five Random Victims
Summer Thunderstorms
Charm Bracelet
Author: M.Forman
Avail: Kindle, Kobo, Kindle Unlimited, Etc.

“Forman’s writing style is artful, with the protagonist Mitchell’s warped thought processes masterfully exposed. The author has a powerful and vivid command of language and his word pictures are stark and disturbingly real.”

– Linda J Bettenay, author of ‘Secrets Mothers Keep’ and ‘Wishes For Starlight’.
sexy kissing