Saturday, April 7, 2012

True Heart Service

If you'd seen us you'd think we were on vacation; a happy family reunion in a hot springs mountain retreat. But death cloaked the blue skies and sunshine like an indecorous winding sheet. Her parents in their 90's; her brother a cancer survivor; a manical bike touring, hard pedeling uncle wheeling headlong through a defiant bucket list; and my wife with her terminal diagnosis. And me...

I help her onto the toilet in the unisex handicapped bathrooms that dot an airport like havens for the afflicted. I adjust her underwear and pull up her jeans. I grovel on the floor to make sure she slides into her shoes comfortably. I latch her seat belt. I always allow an hour more to get ready as we have to move slowly.

I think about sexualizing all this but I can't. The whole process makes me horny though. I crave humiliation, orgasm control, cuckolding, and being lovingly laughed at as her rejected loser while She-Who-Visits fucks another younger more virile man before my lust filled eyes.

It's all in my mind as I cut up her steak at dinner and dice her salad so as she raises the fork with her shaking hand less romaine falls to the plate as a frustrating reminder that this is only going to get worse. Some say she is lucky to have me.

But it is I who am lucky to have her. Ironically blessed to render true heart service in pure and unerring love.

Except for the fantasy dream sequence part where she denies me orgasm until I learn to comb her hair properly.

9 comments:

Her Majesty's Plaything said...

Hi Advo:

Your posts are really amazing. They chronicle a journey that few of us will ever take. There are parallels between the slave fantasy you and I both share and the reality you are living now but the two are very different. I don't think I could sexualize the experience you are having either.

I had the experience of taking care of an invalid with muscular dystrophy. In fact that was my first job after graduating college. We became very close friends. I learned a lot from him and from the experience. But at the end of the day it was a job; a far cry from caring for someone you love. I did see the long progression that finally ended in his death and it was difficult to watch. There may come a time when you find you are unable to handle caring for her alone and that's o.k. It's definitely a "one day at a time" kind of thing

For the time being you are lucky to have each other and every moment is a precious gift. I learned that from my job caring for a young lad with muscular dystrophy and you are learning it taking care of your wife. It's a lesson very much worth taking to heart. It can help transform an otherwise mundane existence into a spiritual journey.

Good luck my friend. Thank you for sharing your journey with us.

advochasty said...

HMP -

Thank you for your heartfelt reply. At its best it is truly a spiritual journey, though I am devoid of any religious or incorporeal connection. It is a day at a time thing for sure and it is to be cherished and beloved.

Maybe the intense kink sex thing I'm feeling is the loss of my single guy search for the time being. Hey, still got a couple of months more with my West Village subbie man cave to go. I could still get lucky!

And I've got the Magic City for escapism. Life is to be embraced by the living, but death just seemed to haunt this family reunion; despite the Rocky Mountain beauty.

Miss Margo said...

This is a very effective post, Advo.

I surely couldn't eroticize it either, and I'm submissive myself. Well, more of a maso than a sub, but you know what I'm talking about.

That you're engaging in service behaviors which would have tremendous erotic significance in another context is blackly ironical. Yeah, life is like that sometimes.

For what it's worth, I think that one of the reasons that sex is so cathartic (or addictive) is that it takes us away from all our other problems and worries and thoughts. It creates a sort of vacuum where all you focus on is sex and the other person.

Oftentimes when I'm under a great deal of strain or distress, my libido goes sky-high. I went through just such a period recently, after I broke up with the Surgeon. Lord have mercy, I thought I was losing my mind.

Hang in there. Keep posting. I wish that I could say something more helpful.

Miss Margo said...
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Aarkey said...

Thanks for the update, and I can just barely fathom the turmoil of your experience. I know that the harsh reality of events makes it nearly impossible to see past it, but I'm glad to read that you try. Putting a layer of fantasy over any hard experience, even if its just going meditatively to a "happy place" during a period of great pain. A respite, however brief, from pain - physical or emotional, can be enormously therapeutic and healthy.

I am sure that it's a good thing when you take a moment for you, and pull an appropriately harsh rebuke from her voice into your mind, as you struggle to slip on her shoes. I'm absolutely sure of it being good.

Namaste.

advochasty said...

Margo-

Black irony is such a wonderful and helpful term. I loved your reply to my post. I am forever sexualizing stress or difficulty; happiness or triumph. It's what I've always done and at least for this recovering addict - a truly well "beaten" beaten path!

Thanks so much for dropping by with such kind words of encouragement! Looking forward to our "taco date"!

advochasty said...

Aarkey -

It's good. It's right and honorable. I'm glad I went to the reunion. I many ways, because I have truly changed, it was much easier for me to be with her family. No real performance pressure. They were really nice to me too.

And it's kind of fun to escape into intense fantasy as well. It's a familiar haven -- even if it is just brain porn.

Hope I see you soon!

advochasty said...
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