[jdviole2]

This may be the most difficult of all my posts to date because it is the most intimate. I have been considering this for long time now and I have decided to briefly talk about Helena and sex. While it is true that the subject isn't one that I ever considered talking about, I realized that I would be doing Helena a disservice by not telling the story and showing the enormous depth of her love for me and what she was willing to do for me. This will not be a tell all (Sorry folks no graphic details). I will end with a fun story about Helena and one of her "kinks". I briefly mentioned once about her being molested by a male relative when she was just a little girl. I spoke of inappropriate touching. Like many people this experience colored the rest of her life. (If he wasn't already dead I would be tempted to look her relative up for some severe, physical "attitude adjustment") She had a vision of what it meant to be a loving wife. Our "undress rehersal" for marriage (mentioned in an earlier post) proved to both of us that we were compatible in bed. Helena was pretty conventional though. She prefered sex in the bedroom, at night, with the lights off. There were exceptions, when emotions overwhelmed her. I mentioned, the other day, that time on the floor when we were painting the bedroom (though I guess technically that qualifies as conventional since we were in the bedroom at the time). One other memorable occasion was at our first house, on the floor in the living room, with the front door open (don't ask). That time her dad showed up and knocked on the screen door to borrow something. He saw nothing and I don't think he even knew we were doing anything. She deeply wanted to be creative and daring but the past kept interferring. We tried oral but I could see she was getting very upset. She told me that this was something he forced her to do to him. Since she didn't want me doing anything for her that she couldn't give in return to me oral was out. Things were fine for a few years until she developed endometriosis. This caused even normal missionary intercourse to be painful. Surgery didn't help. (It was supposed to help but the doctor, in attempting to "tighten up" things overdid it and made pain a permanent part of the act). The poor kid kept trying. She worried a lot about her not being able to keep me satisified. Movies, TV, and friends had left her with an unrealistic sense of the importance of sex in a relationship. She worried that I might become so unhappy that I would leave her, or start an affair. I tried to tell her that an affair was just too damn much work so she didn't need to worry about that. Of course the joke fell flat. We would go to bed (at her urging) and she would try but it was apparent that she was in pain so we would stop. The year we were trying to bake a baby was very hard on us both. (It is very tough to make love to a woman who is crying in pain the entire time.) One day I came home from work and she was sitting on the couch waiting for me. She told me she need to talk to me about something. Her eyes were red and I could tell she had been crying. That wasn't like her and I didn't know what the hell was going on. She told me I couldn't say anything until she was finished. She then told me she thought I was unhappy with her, and she understood. She said she knew she wasn't satisfying my needs in bed and then said, in a soft whisper, that if I wanted to find a prostitute for that it would be OK with her. I started to talk and she told me to shut up. She said that she thought if I found someone, a pro, who could do all those things that she thought I must want and she couldn't provide then maybe I would be satisified enough to stay with her. She started to say "All I want is..." she then started to cry and finished with "just please always come home to me." Talk about feeling like crap. I pulled her to me and we just lay on the couch for a long time, not talking, until she quit crying. I assured her that I had everything I needed or wanted right there in my own home. She wouldn't or couldn't believe that. She said I deserved someone better than her. She went on and on. Finally she ran down and it was my turn. I told her there were lots of things we could do that didn't involve regular sex. I told her that the only important thing was that she enjoyed what we were doing as much as I did. If she wasn't happy and having fun then I couldn't either. We ended up thinking of a whole menu of erotic things we could do that wouldn't hurt her (or me) and would make both of us feel content. For some reason the "twisted sicko" (my name for him) had never used his fingers on her or asked her to manually finish him. So that activity didn't have a bad connotation for her. I reminded her again that sex was supposed to be fun and we should just play. So for us foreplay turned into five, six, seven, or eightplay. We would spend a very very long time building up. Then we would take care of each other. Then, surprising to me, what turned out to be the best part of all, we would spoon and cuddle and talk. I never felt slighted or deprived. To this day the thought that she loved me so much that she would willingly send me to a hooker to get what she couldn't give me chokes me up and makes my eyes burn. I never had the desire to take her up on her offer. She was more than enough woman for me. Now I don't want to leave you with the idea that our sex life was boring. Just because she couldn't and didn't experiment much didn't mean that she couldn't surprise me occasionally. One Saturday afternoon we were in the bedroom, not even undressed yet, and Helena asked if I would do something for her and not think she was weird. I had no idea what was coming. She blushed a deep red and whispered that she wanted me to spank her. With no hesitation I grabbed her and flipped her over my knee and smacked her jean covered butt. She yelled for me to stop. I expected her to appologize and tell me that she had thought she wanted that but guessed she really didn't. And that would have been OK with me. But she surprised me. She turned her head and blushed an even deeper red (I was surprised that blood wasn't seeping through the pores of her skin). In a really soft voice she said that what she really wanted was a bare butt spanking. I complied. Helena didn't want to be hurt just to have it sting a little. It never was a regular part of our playtime but periodically before we would get undressed she would look at me and start blushing and I knew just what she wanted. I would yank her pants and panties down, put her over my knee, and turn her cheeks red. To this day I am surprised that the neighbors never called the police about the abuse, since I'm certain they could hear her screams clearly enough. There were a few other things related to sex that her relative hadn't ruined for her but I'm afraid those will have to remain my secret. Todays pictures start with a shot of Helena at lunch in the Rocky Mountains. Remember I told you she hated to eat there because of the mountain Jays that wanted some of our food. If you look just above her head you will see a Jay sitting on a branch hoping she will leave some food unattended. Probably taken in 1978 or 9. The next picture is from Helena's dad. She had just turned 18 in this picture and has part of her school uniform on. This was in 1969. The third picture is Helena sitting in front of an arch in Arches National Park. Sometime in the early 80's. The next picture is Helena in Disneyland from the late 70's. the fifth picture is another of the "Helena peeing" shots. She is just getting ready here. She never did hear me any of the times I snuck up on her to take these pictures and so they were always a shock for her to see them in the slideshow. I don't know what year this was taken. The last picture is another of the "lost" portrait shots from mid to late 70's.