Monday, June 27, 2016
Friday, June 10, 2016
The Media and ANR
It seems that ANR and ABR are now hot new topics in the media. Maybe they always have been, and I'm just noticing the trend now that my circle within the adult nursing relationship community has expanded a bit, and I'm much more aware of my surroundings. Regardless, something has been troubling me over the past week, and I've found that blogging is quite therapeutic, so, after quite a bit of consideration, I decided to post this publicly with only the best intentions behind my written words.
Before I continue, I think it's very important that readers understand that I am, in no way, a controversial person. I believe in the age-old adage "live and let live", and always do my best to respect others' lifestyle choices and belief systems, and this has always been my goal as I share my thoughts and feelings, opinion, and advice on the loving adult nursing relationship. Although I am certainly not a serious journalist, nor will I ever be the Great American Novelist, I do take my writing very seriously--as seriously as I take my own ANR, and as seriously as I take the feelings and privacy of others regarding their ANRs.
So, with all of this being said, I'll confess that my concern pertains to the media; and, specifically, how the media handles the topic of ANR.
I was actually able to briefly discuss this concern with another couple two nights ago, and I feel that we share the same views on this issue--the media seems to feel that this lifestyle is a farce, some bizarre and unexplainable oddity, something that will intrigue and amuse their readers, as these "journalists" twist the truth into sensationalized fodder, and make a mockery out of the nursing relationship, and the couples who practice it. As the other husband and wife said, the problem with some journalists is that they only care about how many hits they receive on a particular story. I agree with that. Often, presenting the fact-based reality of a seemingly fascinating subject is far less interesting than transforming it into a tabloid story to catch readers' attention. I doubt many people would be fascinated by my life outside of the bedroom where I nurse my husband. It isn't very exciting to learn that I enjoy raising roses or growing vegetables or knitting doll clothes for my little lady's menagerie of blinky-eyed babies. There is not much mystique to explore, I'm afraid. I'm just an average woman with average struggles--and I just happen to nurse my husband.
Because of this, I do offer glimpses into the mundane part of my everyday life, as a way to keep this very real, as a way to normalize what could easily become sensationalized. I have taken part in two interviews at this point, with the potential for two more on the horizon, but I have turned down three offers to discuss my lifestyle choice because I questioned the motive behind the reporters' interest. I love to laugh, but I do not love being laughed at. There is humor in every aspect of life, including nursing, but I just don't see anything funny about the practice itself. It is so easy to handle any issues that arise within your lifestyle choice, as long as you hold onto the control you have over it. You can ignore rude and disrespectful questions, refusing to take the offered bait and feed the flames of ill-meaning fascination, and utilize social media's "unlike", "unfriend", and "unfollow" buttons, or block someone's e-mail from passing through your inbox, but once you hand your story over to the media, even with the best intentions behind it, your journey immediately becomes their story, to do with as they see fitting. I especially dislike the manner in which some journalists utilize quotation marks--they are an easy way to establish sarcasm and a can you believe this? camaraderie with their readers --within the written word. For example, when discussing ANR, some journalists will print: This woman "feeds" her husband. Those innocent quotation marks are offensive to me. And I worry a lot that I will make a terrible judgment call and share my story with the wrong reporter. Sometimes, it feels as if I am taking one step forward to spread the word that ANR can be a completely healthy and absolutely normal part of a couple's everyday life, and then some "journalist" (see what I just did there with the quotation marks? ;)) comes along and pushes me two steps back.
It's really no wonder there's so little trust within the nursing community. Everyone has feelings. No one wants to be the butt of a horrible joke.
I decided to conduct my own interviews for very specific reasons. When I ask to speak to a couple about their own journey, it is always done with the greatest of intentions, as a way to share fresh perspectives on the lifestyle, as a way to build understanding and something of a kinship. I also use these interviews as an outlet for people who would love to be able to share the beauty of their personal ANRs in a safe, secure, and discreet way without the fear of embarrassment, criticism, amusement, or shame. And when these wonderful people agree to speak with me, I am fully aware of the truth: they don't know me. Their willingness to discuss this with me is based solely on trust. They are entrusting me with an extremely tender part of their personal lives, and this is quite meaningful to me.
As a matter of fact, one of the most touching messages I have ever received came from a woman who agreed to a Bountiful Fruits interview, and she contacted me after her story was posted on my website.
"You truly just touched my heart with your article/story. You wrote it so respectfully and just so beautiful. Thank you!"
I don't think I could ever explain what her words meant to me.
Although this post isn't the type that I would normally publish, I'm glad that I decided to share my thoughts--and hope that you are, too. I'll return soon with new articles, which I'm very excited about, and, don't forget that ANR Chat Episode #3 is set to air in five days! Actually, it may become ANR Chat Episode #3, Part I and II, because I've received so many fantastic questions! Thank you, all!
Enjoy your Friday. Enjoy your weekend. Enjoy your partner, and the beautiful lifestyle you share!
Take care!
Before I continue, I think it's very important that readers understand that I am, in no way, a controversial person. I believe in the age-old adage "live and let live", and always do my best to respect others' lifestyle choices and belief systems, and this has always been my goal as I share my thoughts and feelings, opinion, and advice on the loving adult nursing relationship. Although I am certainly not a serious journalist, nor will I ever be the Great American Novelist, I do take my writing very seriously--as seriously as I take my own ANR, and as seriously as I take the feelings and privacy of others regarding their ANRs.
So, with all of this being said, I'll confess that my concern pertains to the media; and, specifically, how the media handles the topic of ANR.
I was actually able to briefly discuss this concern with another couple two nights ago, and I feel that we share the same views on this issue--the media seems to feel that this lifestyle is a farce, some bizarre and unexplainable oddity, something that will intrigue and amuse their readers, as these "journalists" twist the truth into sensationalized fodder, and make a mockery out of the nursing relationship, and the couples who practice it. As the other husband and wife said, the problem with some journalists is that they only care about how many hits they receive on a particular story. I agree with that. Often, presenting the fact-based reality of a seemingly fascinating subject is far less interesting than transforming it into a tabloid story to catch readers' attention. I doubt many people would be fascinated by my life outside of the bedroom where I nurse my husband. It isn't very exciting to learn that I enjoy raising roses or growing vegetables or knitting doll clothes for my little lady's menagerie of blinky-eyed babies. There is not much mystique to explore, I'm afraid. I'm just an average woman with average struggles--and I just happen to nurse my husband.
Because of this, I do offer glimpses into the mundane part of my everyday life, as a way to keep this very real, as a way to normalize what could easily become sensationalized. I have taken part in two interviews at this point, with the potential for two more on the horizon, but I have turned down three offers to discuss my lifestyle choice because I questioned the motive behind the reporters' interest. I love to laugh, but I do not love being laughed at. There is humor in every aspect of life, including nursing, but I just don't see anything funny about the practice itself. It is so easy to handle any issues that arise within your lifestyle choice, as long as you hold onto the control you have over it. You can ignore rude and disrespectful questions, refusing to take the offered bait and feed the flames of ill-meaning fascination, and utilize social media's "unlike", "unfriend", and "unfollow" buttons, or block someone's e-mail from passing through your inbox, but once you hand your story over to the media, even with the best intentions behind it, your journey immediately becomes their story, to do with as they see fitting. I especially dislike the manner in which some journalists utilize quotation marks--they are an easy way to establish sarcasm and a can you believe this? camaraderie with their readers --within the written word. For example, when discussing ANR, some journalists will print: This woman "feeds" her husband. Those innocent quotation marks are offensive to me. And I worry a lot that I will make a terrible judgment call and share my story with the wrong reporter. Sometimes, it feels as if I am taking one step forward to spread the word that ANR can be a completely healthy and absolutely normal part of a couple's everyday life, and then some "journalist" (see what I just did there with the quotation marks? ;)) comes along and pushes me two steps back.
It's really no wonder there's so little trust within the nursing community. Everyone has feelings. No one wants to be the butt of a horrible joke.
I decided to conduct my own interviews for very specific reasons. When I ask to speak to a couple about their own journey, it is always done with the greatest of intentions, as a way to share fresh perspectives on the lifestyle, as a way to build understanding and something of a kinship. I also use these interviews as an outlet for people who would love to be able to share the beauty of their personal ANRs in a safe, secure, and discreet way without the fear of embarrassment, criticism, amusement, or shame. And when these wonderful people agree to speak with me, I am fully aware of the truth: they don't know me. Their willingness to discuss this with me is based solely on trust. They are entrusting me with an extremely tender part of their personal lives, and this is quite meaningful to me.
As a matter of fact, one of the most touching messages I have ever received came from a woman who agreed to a Bountiful Fruits interview, and she contacted me after her story was posted on my website.
"You truly just touched my heart with your article/story. You wrote it so respectfully and just so beautiful. Thank you!"
I don't think I could ever explain what her words meant to me.
Although this post isn't the type that I would normally publish, I'm glad that I decided to share my thoughts--and hope that you are, too. I'll return soon with new articles, which I'm very excited about, and, don't forget that ANR Chat Episode #3 is set to air in five days! Actually, it may become ANR Chat Episode #3, Part I and II, because I've received so many fantastic questions! Thank you, all!
Enjoy your Friday. Enjoy your weekend. Enjoy your partner, and the beautiful lifestyle you share!
Take care!
Thursday, June 9, 2016
My Interview with Leigh Cuen of Mic
I was recently asked to contribute my thoughts on ANR to an interview conducted by Leigh Cuen. Although I was uncertain of whether or not this was the right decision to make, I consented, and I'm glad I did, as a way to "normalize" rather than sensationalize the beautiful adult nursing relationship.
I received a follow-up note from Ms. Cuen earlier that read:
"Thank you for contributing such a thoughtful interview to this article. It was a great help in taking a sensationalist viral story and giving it real, humanizing context..."
I received a follow-up note from Ms. Cuen earlier that read:
"Thank you for contributing such a thoughtful interview to this article. It was a great help in taking a sensationalist viral story and giving it real, humanizing context..."
I hope you'll take a moment to read and share this piece with others.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
My Debut Interview on Freesexpod!
I was fortunate enough to be invited to join the lovely ladies of Freesexpod for an interview on ANR!
You can listen to the podcast by CLICKING RIGHT HERE!
I hope you enjoy it! :)
You can listen to the podcast by CLICKING RIGHT HERE!
I hope you enjoy it! :)
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Reunited!
As I sit down to write this post, I am truly a woman at peace. The house is very still, as it always is during the early hours of morning, but it no longer feels as if the silence is deafening and oppressing; it is a contented sort of peaceful quiet that I can truly enjoy once more because all is well and it feels as if my world is complete once more.
S came home to me last night.
It seemed as if he had been gone forever, and by the time I heard his car pull into our driveway around 10:50 p.m., I was as lighthearted and excited as I'd been on our very first date 16 years ago, because, you see, I had something very important to share with him.
As difficult as the long week was, I think the final three hours leading to his imminent arrival were far worse; he was so very close, but still quite far. I did a lot of pacing and clock-watching during those last 180 minutes, and every time my phone chimed, alerting me that he had texted an arrival time update, my heart soared.
Are you there, baby? I'm two hours out. Love you!
Missing you like crazy. I'm about an hour from home.
Less than 30 minutes now. I can't wait to nurse. Love you.
Neither of us are strangers to homecomings, and I wanted this one to be just as special and meaningful as the ones we've shared in the past. I had prepared myself as meticulously as I had on that first evening so long ago, and made our nursing space warm and inviting with lit candles and lamplight.
And I had placed the small wine-colored velvet pillow, what we call S' nursing pillow, in its proper place, among my reclining pillows, on our bed.
Just before 11:00, headlights washed through the window, and I heard the familiar purring of his car as it came to a smooth stop in front of our home. The engine stopped. Everything went dark. And my heart began to race.
I never thought he would make it inside!
He didn't need his key last night because I was waiting at the door to let him in.
He was beautiful!
There were several long moments of exchanging tight embraces and long kisses and sweet endearments, and he did what he has done for many years, the one thing that makes me feel beautiful and adored and treasured.
He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes, as if memorizing what he saw in them.
"I missed this face," he said. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too," I replied. "More than anything. I'm so glad you're home."
From there, things grew a bit flirtatious; I asked him how he liked my new blouse, and I took him by the hand, and said, "Come with me. I want to show you something."
He was more than willing to follow me to the bedroom.
My body blossomed in S' absence, and I wanted to share the complete transformation with him, so we began our beautiful nursing session by looking at the photos I had taken throughout the week, and as I stroked his hair and he rubbed my back, I asked him to describe the changes he noticed, and each time he did, I reminded him that I was doing this for him.
Always and only for him.
I took his hands, those strong, work-roughened hands that handle my flesh with such gentle reverence, and led them to my breasts so he could explore that clothed swell, gauging their firmness, their fullness, with his fingertips before cupping them and supporting the weight of them in his palms. I covered his hands with mine, and felt the trembling flex of his fingers as they plied and pressed against my bosom.
We were both flushed. Our hearts were pounding in time, and when S was finally able to find his voice, his words were soft, hushed.
"They're so heavy."
"They're full," I replied. "They're full of the milk I made for you. And now they need to be emptied so you can be filled."
Our bed was waiting, warm and inviting, and he came to me, very much like a man who had been starving, and I eagerly gave him the one thing that would sate his desire.
That first latch was amazing.
Last night I was able to feed my husband's physical and emotional hunger from the breasts that had prepared such a feast over the course of one week.
It was glorious!
And when he had fed from each breast and had been lavished with caresses and kisses and whispered words of love throughout the entirety of our nursing session, he allowed his mouth to slip from my breast, and he thanked me for what I had given him.
But the pleasure was mine.
To be the woman who is blessed to nurture and nourish this gracious and loving man is a gift beyond compare.
He completes me.
Without S, I am only half of a person.
When he had nursed, I allowed him to drift off to sleep, and it was beautiful to lie next to him, feeling his warmth, his strong presence, and listen to the slow and steady rhythm of his breathing. A physical joining will come soon, and it will be wonderful, but last night, we shared an emotional and spiritual joining that connected our hearts and fulfilled us in a way that even lovemaking cannot.
Everyone is beginning to stir. The house will soon be as full as my heart is right now.
The children will be eager to see their father, and I will be forced to share him with three little people who have missed his presence and affection. We will take on our roles as parents once more because Dad is home, and our family is complete.
But, just as it was last night, tonight will belong only to us.
And it will be magical!
S came home to me last night.
It seemed as if he had been gone forever, and by the time I heard his car pull into our driveway around 10:50 p.m., I was as lighthearted and excited as I'd been on our very first date 16 years ago, because, you see, I had something very important to share with him.
As difficult as the long week was, I think the final three hours leading to his imminent arrival were far worse; he was so very close, but still quite far. I did a lot of pacing and clock-watching during those last 180 minutes, and every time my phone chimed, alerting me that he had texted an arrival time update, my heart soared.
Are you there, baby? I'm two hours out. Love you!
Missing you like crazy. I'm about an hour from home.
Less than 30 minutes now. I can't wait to nurse. Love you.
Neither of us are strangers to homecomings, and I wanted this one to be just as special and meaningful as the ones we've shared in the past. I had prepared myself as meticulously as I had on that first evening so long ago, and made our nursing space warm and inviting with lit candles and lamplight.
And I had placed the small wine-colored velvet pillow, what we call S' nursing pillow, in its proper place, among my reclining pillows, on our bed.
Just before 11:00, headlights washed through the window, and I heard the familiar purring of his car as it came to a smooth stop in front of our home. The engine stopped. Everything went dark. And my heart began to race.
I never thought he would make it inside!
He didn't need his key last night because I was waiting at the door to let him in.
He was beautiful!
There were several long moments of exchanging tight embraces and long kisses and sweet endearments, and he did what he has done for many years, the one thing that makes me feel beautiful and adored and treasured.
He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes, as if memorizing what he saw in them.
"I missed this face," he said. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too," I replied. "More than anything. I'm so glad you're home."
From there, things grew a bit flirtatious; I asked him how he liked my new blouse, and I took him by the hand, and said, "Come with me. I want to show you something."
He was more than willing to follow me to the bedroom.
My body blossomed in S' absence, and I wanted to share the complete transformation with him, so we began our beautiful nursing session by looking at the photos I had taken throughout the week, and as I stroked his hair and he rubbed my back, I asked him to describe the changes he noticed, and each time he did, I reminded him that I was doing this for him.
Always and only for him.
I took his hands, those strong, work-roughened hands that handle my flesh with such gentle reverence, and led them to my breasts so he could explore that clothed swell, gauging their firmness, their fullness, with his fingertips before cupping them and supporting the weight of them in his palms. I covered his hands with mine, and felt the trembling flex of his fingers as they plied and pressed against my bosom.
We were both flushed. Our hearts were pounding in time, and when S was finally able to find his voice, his words were soft, hushed.
"They're so heavy."
"They're full," I replied. "They're full of the milk I made for you. And now they need to be emptied so you can be filled."
Our bed was waiting, warm and inviting, and he came to me, very much like a man who had been starving, and I eagerly gave him the one thing that would sate his desire.
That first latch was amazing.
Last night I was able to feed my husband's physical and emotional hunger from the breasts that had prepared such a feast over the course of one week.
It was glorious!
And when he had fed from each breast and had been lavished with caresses and kisses and whispered words of love throughout the entirety of our nursing session, he allowed his mouth to slip from my breast, and he thanked me for what I had given him.
But the pleasure was mine.
To be the woman who is blessed to nurture and nourish this gracious and loving man is a gift beyond compare.
He completes me.
Without S, I am only half of a person.
When he had nursed, I allowed him to drift off to sleep, and it was beautiful to lie next to him, feeling his warmth, his strong presence, and listen to the slow and steady rhythm of his breathing. A physical joining will come soon, and it will be wonderful, but last night, we shared an emotional and spiritual joining that connected our hearts and fulfilled us in a way that even lovemaking cannot.
Everyone is beginning to stir. The house will soon be as full as my heart is right now.
The children will be eager to see their father, and I will be forced to share him with three little people who have missed his presence and affection. We will take on our roles as parents once more because Dad is home, and our family is complete.
But, just as it was last night, tonight will belong only to us.
And it will be magical!
Monday, May 2, 2016
I Have Returned!
After a brief hiatus, I have returned! To those who have sent messages, asking about me, and wondering if I will be updating my blog, thank you for your concern. I am doing well, and plan to continue posting as the days go by. Unfortunately, I am a day behind on some of my features, including the Nursing Diary and Interviews, and they will be updated tomorrow! Thank you for your patience and interest.
I had an incredibly busy weekend; so busy, as a matter of fact, that there didn't seem to be enough hours in the days to get everything accomplished. As I began to feel slightly overwhelmed, I decided to prioritize, and set my writing aside in lieu of spending time with my husband, children, and other family members while keeping in touch with friends via email. It was the right decision, because amid all of the hustle and bustle, I had many moments of reflection.
It's very difficult to choose what to post...and what not to post at times, as I always consider very carefully what you might enjoy reading before I sit down to complete my daily blog posts. I spent a great deal of time considering this post, as a matter of fact, and after talking everything over with S, he encouraged me to write this, and I can only hope that I can explain my position succinctly and without offense.
When I first began writing this blog, I chose to do so with a frank honesty that allowed me a liberating freedom; I was so incredibly filled with joy because of the re-opening of my ANR with S that I truly couldn't refrain from sharing it with the world. I want others to understand the complete bliss that can be gained from sharing the nursing experience with the person you love most in this world. I wanted to share the aspects of our relationship openly, in an attempt to show my readers what my experiences have taught me about myself and my husband. I also wanted people to feel comfortable enough to ask questions about the nursing relationship, as well as about S and me, and who we are as both individuals and a happily married couple. I also wanted to be the shoulder for those struggling to achieve a committed ANR to lean on, as something of a support system, as someone who could understand their hopes and desires, while listening without question or judgment. And I still wish for all of these things.
However, over the weekend, a couple of people chose to overstep their bounds with me, and caused me to re-evaluate many things, including this site and my original blog. If my posts have somehow given you the wrong impression, then I am sorry. Because I share s0 much of my personal journey to the public, I am sure that I seem to be an extremely forward and liberated person who would enjoy blatant sexual advances, presumptuous emails, and disrespectful behavior that bordered on somewhat threatening. That is not who I am. As surprising as some might find this, I am a very private and shy person; I am an introvert who prefers to stand on the sidelines rather than be the center of attention. When I allow people to truly know me, they are given much more than the surface LMM. I share important details of my life with them; they know what S and I (and our children) look like; they know our names and the very real details of our life as the very average couple we are. They are interested in much more than our nursing life; they want to scratch that LMM surface and get to know me--just as much as I want to know them. If we are nursing friends, a phrase that one of my own friends so perfectly coined, then, of course, we discuss nursing, but we discuss other important aspects of our lives, too, and it's a beautiful thing!
For a while over the weekend, I considered--briefly--the notion of removing my site and blog, but the idea of really doing that made me so sad. I love this so much, and I don't want to stop. And, as long as you would like to continue reading it, I will continue writing it with the same joyful abandon as before. I also debated on whether to make this a password protected site, but the idea seemed so wrong. I want readers to have easy access to my posts without having to worry about the hassle of requesting a password. So...things will remain unchanged for now.
The Bountiful Fruits Chat Room was intended for visitors' personal enjoyment, no strings attached. When the Mister and I arranged for chat sessions with interested people, we intended to use that hour of time to share personal relationship insight with others and offer Nursing Couple Q and A sessions. Unfortunately, a very few people felt that they could use that hour to share their fantasies of me and make unreasonable requests of me. I do not engage in fantasy role play with strangers. I do not indulge in cyber sex. I am not interested in your descriptions of what you dream that my breasts look like. These are things that make me extremely uncomfortable; because of this, I will no longer be utilizing the chat feature, although others may feel free to do so. If anyone is interested in a fun and pleasant relationship Q and A chat, I will arrange a private chat room for us, but for now, all public chat room sessions are canceled until further notice.
Thank you so much to those of you who enjoy Bountiful Fruits and respect me as a very real person. I deeply appreciate it, and love hearing from you! Many thanks to those who continue to offer kindness and support, and encourage me to continue to write.
I'll be back tomorrow with updates and a brand new post!
I hope you'll be here, too!
I had an incredibly busy weekend; so busy, as a matter of fact, that there didn't seem to be enough hours in the days to get everything accomplished. As I began to feel slightly overwhelmed, I decided to prioritize, and set my writing aside in lieu of spending time with my husband, children, and other family members while keeping in touch with friends via email. It was the right decision, because amid all of the hustle and bustle, I had many moments of reflection.
It's very difficult to choose what to post...and what not to post at times, as I always consider very carefully what you might enjoy reading before I sit down to complete my daily blog posts. I spent a great deal of time considering this post, as a matter of fact, and after talking everything over with S, he encouraged me to write this, and I can only hope that I can explain my position succinctly and without offense.
When I first began writing this blog, I chose to do so with a frank honesty that allowed me a liberating freedom; I was so incredibly filled with joy because of the re-opening of my ANR with S that I truly couldn't refrain from sharing it with the world. I want others to understand the complete bliss that can be gained from sharing the nursing experience with the person you love most in this world. I wanted to share the aspects of our relationship openly, in an attempt to show my readers what my experiences have taught me about myself and my husband. I also wanted people to feel comfortable enough to ask questions about the nursing relationship, as well as about S and me, and who we are as both individuals and a happily married couple. I also wanted to be the shoulder for those struggling to achieve a committed ANR to lean on, as something of a support system, as someone who could understand their hopes and desires, while listening without question or judgment. And I still wish for all of these things.
However, over the weekend, a couple of people chose to overstep their bounds with me, and caused me to re-evaluate many things, including this site and my original blog. If my posts have somehow given you the wrong impression, then I am sorry. Because I share s0 much of my personal journey to the public, I am sure that I seem to be an extremely forward and liberated person who would enjoy blatant sexual advances, presumptuous emails, and disrespectful behavior that bordered on somewhat threatening. That is not who I am. As surprising as some might find this, I am a very private and shy person; I am an introvert who prefers to stand on the sidelines rather than be the center of attention. When I allow people to truly know me, they are given much more than the surface LMM. I share important details of my life with them; they know what S and I (and our children) look like; they know our names and the very real details of our life as the very average couple we are. They are interested in much more than our nursing life; they want to scratch that LMM surface and get to know me--just as much as I want to know them. If we are nursing friends, a phrase that one of my own friends so perfectly coined, then, of course, we discuss nursing, but we discuss other important aspects of our lives, too, and it's a beautiful thing!
For a while over the weekend, I considered--briefly--the notion of removing my site and blog, but the idea of really doing that made me so sad. I love this so much, and I don't want to stop. And, as long as you would like to continue reading it, I will continue writing it with the same joyful abandon as before. I also debated on whether to make this a password protected site, but the idea seemed so wrong. I want readers to have easy access to my posts without having to worry about the hassle of requesting a password. So...things will remain unchanged for now.
The Bountiful Fruits Chat Room was intended for visitors' personal enjoyment, no strings attached. When the Mister and I arranged for chat sessions with interested people, we intended to use that hour of time to share personal relationship insight with others and offer Nursing Couple Q and A sessions. Unfortunately, a very few people felt that they could use that hour to share their fantasies of me and make unreasonable requests of me. I do not engage in fantasy role play with strangers. I do not indulge in cyber sex. I am not interested in your descriptions of what you dream that my breasts look like. These are things that make me extremely uncomfortable; because of this, I will no longer be utilizing the chat feature, although others may feel free to do so. If anyone is interested in a fun and pleasant relationship Q and A chat, I will arrange a private chat room for us, but for now, all public chat room sessions are canceled until further notice.
Thank you so much to those of you who enjoy Bountiful Fruits and respect me as a very real person. I deeply appreciate it, and love hearing from you! Many thanks to those who continue to offer kindness and support, and encourage me to continue to write.
I'll be back tomorrow with updates and a brand new post!
I hope you'll be here, too!
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