e[lust] #29 (Oops)

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~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Evidence To The Contrary – If anyone out there ever tries to tell you that internet relationships and friendships are not real, point them in my direction and I will happily set them straight on the matter because I have proof, in fact I am proof, that they know not what they speak of.

Open Marriages Don’t Work….- The only way I would agree with that statement is if you add: …..if you’re marriage already has problems. But even that part is not universally true.

Love in the Age of Broadband - What happened to our ability to keep it casual? Why would we attach ourselves to someone who is (often) hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away? And, more to the point, why would we attach ourselves to someone we have never met?

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Ask Lilly – Open and Polyamorous: Why be married at all?

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

My apologies, everyone, since submissions closed I’ve been 100% consumed with personal family tragedy (the flooding in Central PA) so I didn’t have time to read most of the entries this time or find a photo. The html code might contain a lot of blank lines for some of you, I didn’t have time to “clean” it up, either, just throw up what I have.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Ask Aunty Dee: Dental Dams
born this way…
Clit Truth
Condoms and Size
Lies & Infidelities
Misguided Dominance
Poly Language
Return to Decadence
Step Inside My Head
Who was the first person you told..
When Bad Things Happen To Good People – Warning Bells

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

To Be Out Or Not To Be Out
Want Sado-Erotic Horror Movies? Yes please! Films by Matthew Saliba
What I’ve Learned From E[Lust]

Kink & Fetish

A Much Needed Distraction
Another drink?
Caged
Facing Fear
Negotiation Win

Erotic Writing

As Long As It Lasts
Asking For It
Anticipation
Blow Job
Campfire
Debra’s Gift
Feral
Fantasy
June’s Caning
Please, Please, Please, Sir
Showers and Strawberries
slick
The Visitor
The Play Fight

A Walk Down Memory Lane

I’ve mentioned how much I am enjoying spending time with my son since he moved home with me full-time. It’s a joy getting to know him as a young man, a joy that I never expected. Sixteen-year-old boys don’t “share” a lot with their moms, and he probably wouldn’t either, except that we are thrown together (with no escape from each other) by the fact that I have to drive him to and from school daily, a forty-five minute jaunt each way. A lot of times I listen to an audiobook, and especially in the AM he will snooze on the drive, but occasionally even in the mornings we will have good talks.

In the afternoons though is when we really get a chance to talk–and he seems delighted to do so.  Our conversations are wide-ranging and his opinions about things are interesting to me. He’s much more gregarious than I ever knew, and, in some ways, much more a “typical” teen: moody at times, opinionated, very sure of his own rightness and immortality, snarky and sarcastic at times, very dramatic at others. It’s odd, since neither the Eldest or Missy were what I’d call typical in that regard, and I really hadn’t spent enough one-on-one time before now with The Boychild to realize all this about him. It’s like I am getting acquainted with my own son–and in the process, also learning to mother him in a way that is healthy, effective, and good for us both.

One of my favorite things that he does spontaneously is to introduce me to music he enjoys. Oftentimes when I am listening to an audiobook, he will tap me on the shoulder if music comes on that he knows I like, or that he thinks I might like.  And then, if it is a song we both know, oftentimes we will sing along to it together. Yesterday he tapped me when a song that he really likes came on:

“Oh my god,” I said, “you like this?”

Yeah, he said, and started to tell me all about what he likes about it.

I just grinned and grinned, and when he was done, I said, “Do you want to know how old that song is?”

And then I proceeded to tell him how that was the first song my first husband, his older brother’s father, and I had listened to together. I’d met him in an 18-plus dance club (he was only 17 at the time but got in anyway because he looked like he was 24–and lied to me too about his age as well, btw) and offered to drive me home. Of course I couldn’t know it at the time, but it wasn’t his car he was driving, and he didn’t actually even have a driver’s license. (More bits-o-history: the car was an El Camino, the same kind of car that is parked in the condo complex with a For Sale sign on it. When The Boychild started oohing and ahhing over it recently, I told him about how my first Ex’s best friend had driven one, and how he had been the sweetest boy, and had had a crush on me, but that I’d gone for his “bad boy” best friend. And what a mistake (except for getting my eldest son out of the deal) that had been.)  Anyway, “Jump” by Van Halen had been on the radio when I’d hopped into the car to get a ride home from the dance club.

And the very next song that came on was:

I could not believe it. That song was the one that was playing the first time my very first boyfriend ever kissed me. I had to tell him that story too, and in telling confessed to having first gotten into D & D with that boyfriend and his group of nerdy friends–the game that he is now heavily involved in with his “Nerd Club” after school club. He was amazed that I had played D & D, and laughed his ass off when I told him that of course those stupid boys had had a lot more fun abusing my half-elf/half-human character Chya than actually fighting the monsters–that was until I clawed my way up to a high enough level that I could kick their asses back (and I did!)

After he caught his breath he looked over at me. “That’s my Mom,” he said.

Thinking about all that I’ve learned about him recently, looking at his mohawk (now blue) and listening to his sometimes-cocky, sometimes-still-heartbreakingly-innocent monologues on life and music and love and sex and growing up and his father and friends and school and what he wants to be, I just have to nod.  That’s my boy.

Life just gets better and better.