I woke up this Thanksgiving morning to a hard cock parting my plush rounded ass cheeks. As the length of him submerged between them, he trailed the head of his cock through my velvet flesh, parting my pink pussy lips with the thickness of him. His cock immediately slicked with his cum trickling from inside of me where he released hours before. Reaching around my body, he took his thick, calloused hand and wrapped it around my neck, squeezing. His vascular forearm nestled between my ample breasts, pulling my body into his as he thrusts his solid cock inside of me. His thrust forces the concoction of our cum to trail down his length and pool around the base of his shaft. I feel his coarse body hair against my back and his thick beard brushing the back of my neck. His breath is heavy, and his moans are deliciously low, a primal rumble from deep inside his chest. I could swear I absorb every drop of his masculinity through all of my senses, permeating the very pores of my skin.
I get high off of his masculinity, the opposite that makes me whole. In nearly every moment of the day, I am reminded about how grateful I am to have a man who fearlessly embraces his masculinity, and not in a way that mainstream society would find acceptable. My man is a devout believer in patriarchy and as ironic as it sounds, a loving misogynist. Although this may not work for many women in today’s society, I thrive off of his belief in being superior to me in most ways. I am not his equal, a belief we both share, and that belief is in no way a threat to me or my sense of self. Conversely, his embracing his masculinity apart and separate from the feminine is exactly what heightens my sense of femininity in myself. You see, my personal belief is that a man that embraces feminism, or routinely touts gender equality, is simultaneously diminishing his own masculinity. I appreciate the more traditional aspects of how relationships and marriage used to be. Men are being demonized daily; meanwhile, many women are sitting back, spectating or even supporting such movements whilst chanting, “We don’t need a man!”
Well, I do.
I don’t just want my man. I mentally, physically, emotionally, psychologically and in every way imaginable NEED my man. He is the counterpart to my greatest attributes, ones in which he cannot embody nor desires to embody. I am the perfect counterpart to his greatest attributes, ones in which I cannot and do not wish to embody. By embracing our inequality we cultivate a organic equilibrium within our bond. Power struggles do not find life in our home. My husband and I do not fight over who gets to wear the pants. He does. Give me the dress and heels. I want absolutely nothing to do with those pants; I couldn’t possibly fill them as perfectly as he does, and thus, suit him so much better than they ever could me.
I feel the modern day woman is doing a disservice to both themselves and men that women will soon (if they are not already) live to regret. For every time a woman chants, “I don’t need a man”, are they not also acknowledging that men don’t need THEM? As women preoccupy themselves with raising fists in opposition of the patriarchy, how could men not begin to disassociate themselves from women? Why would a man choose the limp embrace of a woman who (admittedly) doesn’t need him, when he could find comfort in the arms of a woman who does? Why would a man appreciate and value a woman for her femininity if he is not validated, acknowledged, and respected for what makes him naturally different? In modern day, heterosexual relationships*, our quests for equality is perpetuating a divide between the couple and dissolves intimacy. Viewing themselves as “equal” does not guarantee a more fair, loving, and nurturing relationship; On the contrary, by not embracing what makes us so beautifully different and complementary, we are neglecting the validation of such admirable qualities in our partner. Sameness is boring. While equality may be seen as more “fair”, it certainly is not more balanced. The balance exists when two people can accept where their partner far surpasses their capabilities, is acknowledged for those gifts, and by association, acknowledges the converse of such gifts in their partner.
This morning, as my glorious husband pushed his thick cock inside of my tight pussy, two uniquely different bodies were made whole. His strong, masculine body pressed against the smooth, healthy, feminine shape of mine leaves me in revere of our differences. His grasp leaves me feeling secure and safe. He would risk his life for me and I dedicate mine to his. I admire him, and in such admiration, I find him to be my BETTER half. I do not see him as my equal and I am grateful for my position. In my position I am treasured, taken care of, and admired in a way that no “strong, independent” woman could be. Yes, I absolutely need my man.
Now, I’m going to go bake a cake in all my domestic goddess femininity and enjoy him devouring my “cake” later.
*I emphasize this because I have no knowledge or personal experience to reflect upon any other kind of relationship; thus, have no business making assumptions about them.