But why can’t being sexually objectified be one of those things? And if we excel in one of those things and enjoy it at the same time, why can’t w... specialize in it? Imagine a married woman with c***dren. Ask her who she is? You would probably get a reply like “I am a mother first, wife second,” and so on. Ask her if she is ever not a mother and get a big “No!” Well, by contrast, I am a sex object for my husband to instruct, use and play with first, with no close second - even if the second is. I had good memories of farm life such as they were. I decided to look for a farm a little off the beaten path that could support me "off the grid" as the term goes.I decided that I would ride out of town and look around at farms off the main roads. I would also look for people while out there. I rode out east of town and was quickly in the rural area beyond our town. I had a county map and chose side roads away from the Federal highway. I picked a longer one and drove two miles by my odometer. While she tugged at his pants, he moved his lips down to her neck and seemed in no hurry to get either of them undressed: his attention was focused entirely on kissing her. His lips touched every inch of the sensitive skin of her neck, making her pulse race. She started to squirm under his deliberate movements, anxious for him to explore the other parts of her body. He ignored her attempts to make him go faster, and when she tried to pull her own clothes off he pushed her hands away. ‘So. But... b-but she said tomorrow was going to be a much better day for her. I don't know what she meant by that. All I know is that I didn't like the sound of it, not the way she said it." So what do you think we should do?" asked Jason.Melinda and Heather glanced at each other in confusion, then both gave Jason a funny look.Jason sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Looking to me for the answers again." Jason, you're the one that saved us from the House," Heather said."I did? That's news to.