From my first post today, you may notice I’ve been struggling with a couple of things. While I do feel better at least having gotten it out of me and onto paper…err…screen… it was still pretty emotionally exhausting to sort through.
I think everyone has things they go to for comfort. Food used to work for me, but not so much anymore considering the band. I’m not a big drinker. I don’t take drugs, except for maybe a couple of xanax a year. (Yes, I have a prescriptions :p)
So what’s my comfort?
Music. And it’s not just recently. It’s always been that way for me.
Last night, I put “Almost Famous” in the DVD player and watched it. It’s one of my favorite movies of all time. I love the era, the music, and having small crushes on Kate Hudson and Jason Lee doesn’t hurt either. It’s a great story.
Tonight, after spewing emotion and then logging into Warcraft and an aborted raid, I needed another dose of comfort. I started to look through my DVD shelf, and stopped quickly at the yellow cardboard container that houses one of the best doses of musical therapy available to me.
Fleetwood Mac’s The Dance.
God I love Stevie Nicks. Cliché maybe, but she has sung me through some of the most difficult crises anyone should ever have to endure. She’s an ethereal presence, both in person (I saw her a long time ago with Joe Walsh, god what a show that was), and on my flickering TV screen. The biggest cure for me on the entire DVD is Landslide, one of my favorite songs of all time. Screw the Dixie Chicks and screw Smashing Pumpkins. That song belongs in Stevie’s voice only.
Another highlight for me is hearing Silver Springs, the way the song was intended to be sung on the Rumors album.
And then of course, there is – Rhiannon. “…dreams unwind, love’s a state of mind ….”
I feel so much better now *grin
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
The ABCs of BDSM - D and E
Decorative Bondage – This is fun for what it is, but it’s not something I’m all that interested in unless it’s part of a scene that demands it.
Depilation- remove all body hair – I’ve said this before. I trim above and shave below most of the time. I’ll admit tat if I don’t have a partner, I don’t do much more than trim. I don’t like my male partner’s shaved. Trimmed is good though.
Diaper Play – Ugh. No.
Denim – Okay, it’s true, I love a man in a well fitting pair of jeans. But as a fetish? Nah.
Dilation – No.
Dildo – I own a couple. And? *grin
Domestic Chores – I know there are people that can fetish-ize this, but I’m not one of them. Well unless I’m wearing a french maid’s outfit and there’s sex at the end ….
Double Penetration – I think I covered this pretty thoroughly in the other questionnaire *grin
Dog Training – No thank you.
Edge Play – this used to hold a great deal of interest for me, and I’ll admit to walking the edge a few times in my life when it was wrapped up in a nice little leather bdsm bow, but it’s not something I’m finding myself needing very much. I tend to believe that my desire for it then versus now is that I had so many feelings locked up inside that only got to come out when the scene got very intense. Now days, I let them out as I wish – as you know if you’ve been reading here long.
Electric Play – I have a violet wand around here. It’s been used on me once and I’ve used it a few times. I bought it for the novelty factor, and because I was scared of it. It’s one of those things I should probably Ebay one of these days.
Enemas – I have a curiosity about these, but it’s not something I’d go out of my way to arrange.
Enforced Chastity – For how long? *smirk.
Erotic Humiliation – I wrote this great essay a long time ago about the levels of this: embarrassment, humiliation and degradation. I’m all right up to the last one. And the last one is, to me, more about breaking someone down than sex.
Erotic Pain – Yes please. Again, this is something I’ve discussed so frequently, I think that’s enough of an answer
Examinations-physical || Examinations-medical – Not really interested in this. I spend enough lamenting my own parts, I really don’t know if I want someone else doing it.
Exhibitionism-public ||Exhibitionism-semi public ||Exhibitionism-private – I think there’s a part of me that likes showing off. I don’t have any desire to be naked in public but I am willing to push boundaries occasionally. Maybe push them a little past where I think my boundaries are. Let’s at least say I like the idea of this. *grin
Eye Contact Restrictions – This is tough, have you ever tried it? Ever had an orgasm with your eyes open? Ever been forced to look – or not look at something for extended periods of time? Fun stuff there. It adds a level intensity to something already intense, or it creates a dramatic finish for something maybe otherwise mellow.
Depilation- remove all body hair – I’ve said this before. I trim above and shave below most of the time. I’ll admit tat if I don’t have a partner, I don’t do much more than trim. I don’t like my male partner’s shaved. Trimmed is good though.
Diaper Play – Ugh. No.
Denim – Okay, it’s true, I love a man in a well fitting pair of jeans. But as a fetish? Nah.
Dilation – No.
Dildo – I own a couple. And? *grin
Domestic Chores – I know there are people that can fetish-ize this, but I’m not one of them. Well unless I’m wearing a french maid’s outfit and there’s sex at the end ….
Double Penetration – I think I covered this pretty thoroughly in the other questionnaire *grin
Dog Training – No thank you.
Edge Play – this used to hold a great deal of interest for me, and I’ll admit to walking the edge a few times in my life when it was wrapped up in a nice little leather bdsm bow, but it’s not something I’m finding myself needing very much. I tend to believe that my desire for it then versus now is that I had so many feelings locked up inside that only got to come out when the scene got very intense. Now days, I let them out as I wish – as you know if you’ve been reading here long.
Electric Play – I have a violet wand around here. It’s been used on me once and I’ve used it a few times. I bought it for the novelty factor, and because I was scared of it. It’s one of those things I should probably Ebay one of these days.
Enemas – I have a curiosity about these, but it’s not something I’d go out of my way to arrange.
Enforced Chastity – For how long? *smirk.
Erotic Humiliation – I wrote this great essay a long time ago about the levels of this: embarrassment, humiliation and degradation. I’m all right up to the last one. And the last one is, to me, more about breaking someone down than sex.
Erotic Pain – Yes please. Again, this is something I’ve discussed so frequently, I think that’s enough of an answer
Examinations-physical || Examinations-medical – Not really interested in this. I spend enough lamenting my own parts, I really don’t know if I want someone else doing it.
Exhibitionism-public ||Exhibitionism-semi public ||Exhibitionism-private – I think there’s a part of me that likes showing off. I don’t have any desire to be naked in public but I am willing to push boundaries occasionally. Maybe push them a little past where I think my boundaries are. Let’s at least say I like the idea of this. *grin
Eye Contact Restrictions – This is tough, have you ever tried it? Ever had an orgasm with your eyes open? Ever been forced to look – or not look at something for extended periods of time? Fun stuff there. It adds a level intensity to something already intense, or it creates a dramatic finish for something maybe otherwise mellow.
Not a Generic Kinda Girl
I am anything but generic.
There are days when I long to be more normal. No, really. If I were normal I'd likely be married (to someone who suited me better than the two I DID marry) and I'd not have to be dealing with all of this "I'm single and dating" crap.
Why do I call it crap? Because frankly, this is all new to me. I mean, I did date. A little. But basically for most of my life I've been a serial monogamist who kind of went from one relationship to the next with varying periods of 'alone time' between them. Anything from 2 weeks to ....well now, 3.5 years.
I often say that I'm thankful for this long period of alone time, and part of me is. I have learned a LOT about myself and the people around me. But it's not all wine and roses there. I've had to look at some cold hard truths about the relationships I've had in the past and I've had to swallow just exactly how devalued I let myself feel. And that's not a habit that's easy to break, even as a person's self-confidence and self-worth raises. I think I'm there though.
I sent home a thought a couple of weeks ago (I have this habit of thinking of something I want to write at work, then just emailing it to myself at home) and I scribbled it into my little notebook, but I've yet to address it because it's something that's actually an issue for me right now. So instead of running from it, maybe what I really ought to do is address it and be done with it.
The thought, very bluntly is I want to fuck someone who wants to fuck ME, not someone who just wants to get laid. I have this huge amount of sexual energy. It comes out in words and actions and thoughts. And frankly, I should be sharing that with someone who wants that from ME - not someone who just generically wants to feel something. This started for me awhile back when I wrote about the difference between casual and nonchalant. There is a big difference for me between a casual relationship, and a relationship in which I do not feel like I’m special – in which I feel like I could be almost anyone and serve the same purpose. Because I am NOT just anyone. I am NOT generic. And I value myself enough to not only know the difference, but embrace it. And I expect anyone who finds his way in between my sheets to embrace it as well. The line between casual and nonchalant has gotten thicker for me recently. And I’m just not in the mindset to compromise on that right now.
I’m not saying casual isn’t okay. Casual is fine. Casual suits me in many ways. But there is a way to have a casual relationship in which both people in the relationship feel valued and special. And if both people aren’t feeling that, then it’s not casual. It’s something else entirely. And feeling depersonalized is certainly not a kink I enjoy exploring on a regular basis.
That’s a good thing to know about myself, and I’m glad that I’ve gotten to the point that I could say it, and mean it. It’s been a little tough for me to do so, because some of these points are very personal right now, and a little bit difficult to address.
But occasionally I need to deal with the difficult stuff. Sex itself is so easy for me to write about. But the emotional and mental stuff behind it is sometimes more difficult. This is one of those times.
Now that it’s done, and behind me, perhaps I can get back to what I do better. *grin
There are days when I long to be more normal. No, really. If I were normal I'd likely be married (to someone who suited me better than the two I DID marry) and I'd not have to be dealing with all of this "I'm single and dating" crap.
Why do I call it crap? Because frankly, this is all new to me. I mean, I did date. A little. But basically for most of my life I've been a serial monogamist who kind of went from one relationship to the next with varying periods of 'alone time' between them. Anything from 2 weeks to ....well now, 3.5 years.
I often say that I'm thankful for this long period of alone time, and part of me is. I have learned a LOT about myself and the people around me. But it's not all wine and roses there. I've had to look at some cold hard truths about the relationships I've had in the past and I've had to swallow just exactly how devalued I let myself feel. And that's not a habit that's easy to break, even as a person's self-confidence and self-worth raises. I think I'm there though.
I sent home a thought a couple of weeks ago (I have this habit of thinking of something I want to write at work, then just emailing it to myself at home) and I scribbled it into my little notebook, but I've yet to address it because it's something that's actually an issue for me right now. So instead of running from it, maybe what I really ought to do is address it and be done with it.
The thought, very bluntly is I want to fuck someone who wants to fuck ME, not someone who just wants to get laid. I have this huge amount of sexual energy. It comes out in words and actions and thoughts. And frankly, I should be sharing that with someone who wants that from ME - not someone who just generically wants to feel something. This started for me awhile back when I wrote about the difference between casual and nonchalant. There is a big difference for me between a casual relationship, and a relationship in which I do not feel like I’m special – in which I feel like I could be almost anyone and serve the same purpose. Because I am NOT just anyone. I am NOT generic. And I value myself enough to not only know the difference, but embrace it. And I expect anyone who finds his way in between my sheets to embrace it as well. The line between casual and nonchalant has gotten thicker for me recently. And I’m just not in the mindset to compromise on that right now.
I’m not saying casual isn’t okay. Casual is fine. Casual suits me in many ways. But there is a way to have a casual relationship in which both people in the relationship feel valued and special. And if both people aren’t feeling that, then it’s not casual. It’s something else entirely. And feeling depersonalized is certainly not a kink I enjoy exploring on a regular basis.
That’s a good thing to know about myself, and I’m glad that I’ve gotten to the point that I could say it, and mean it. It’s been a little tough for me to do so, because some of these points are very personal right now, and a little bit difficult to address.
But occasionally I need to deal with the difficult stuff. Sex itself is so easy for me to write about. But the emotional and mental stuff behind it is sometimes more difficult. This is one of those times.
Now that it’s done, and behind me, perhaps I can get back to what I do better. *grin
Monday, May 05, 2008
Perfectly fine
Any piece of clothing can be sexy with a quietly passionate woman inside it.
Anonymous
I bought this cheap, olive green thermal-looking shirt the other day at the drug store. It’s very thin – not build for warmth at all. I figured it’d be a good weekend shirt and for six bucks, I couldn’t pass it up.
So I put it on Saturday, Saturday being the weekend and all. And as it turns out, this shirt fits me perfectly. So perfectly in fact that it makes me look like I weight 15 pounds less than I do in a different shirt. So perfectly that I looked in the mirror a good two minutes – something I rarely do – and suddenly all of the rules from all of those makeover shows I sit here and watch came back to me.
Then I smiled.
A stupid, cheap shirt in a weird color – and it made me feel so incredibly good – and sexy. My hair looked good, my new glasses make my face look less round and it just was a picture perfect moment.
I’ll admit it. I’ve been obsessing about the ‘repair work’ lately. It’s like I have nearly everything else done, especially the glasses and the hair - and being just almost there….so close, but not quite.
But how much does that matter, really? Isn’t the fact that I looked good in the mirror in the crappy little shirt enough for me? Why all of the sudden do I feel so fucking greedy for wanting more than I have? I mean, the fact that I got a second chance for myself with the weightloss… that I have a good enough job that I can walk in and drop 450.00 on a pair of stylish glasses and how much ever it takes to get my hair cut/styled and highlighted… why can’t I be satisfied with that? Has my inner perfectionist gotten so loud that she’s starting to drown out the rest of me?
Maybe.
But she needs to shut the hell up because honestly --- for 43 years old, I look pretty goddamn good. What’s more is the confidence behind that smile on my face, and how much that radiates outward and makes me more attractive and dare I say it – sexier.
It’s my own attitude that decides every morning whether I feel good when I walk out that door and go to the office. It’s my own outlook that decides if the curls make it a good hair day or a bad hair day. And it’s the sincerity of my smile in the mirror that decides every day if I’m a sexy bitch, or just a lady in waiting to be perfect.
Screw perfect. Surgery will come in time. But what I have now is nothing to sneeze at. And it’s time I quit using it as an excuse to wait for my real life to start.
Anonymous
I bought this cheap, olive green thermal-looking shirt the other day at the drug store. It’s very thin – not build for warmth at all. I figured it’d be a good weekend shirt and for six bucks, I couldn’t pass it up.
So I put it on Saturday, Saturday being the weekend and all. And as it turns out, this shirt fits me perfectly. So perfectly in fact that it makes me look like I weight 15 pounds less than I do in a different shirt. So perfectly that I looked in the mirror a good two minutes – something I rarely do – and suddenly all of the rules from all of those makeover shows I sit here and watch came back to me.
Then I smiled.
A stupid, cheap shirt in a weird color – and it made me feel so incredibly good – and sexy. My hair looked good, my new glasses make my face look less round and it just was a picture perfect moment.
I’ll admit it. I’ve been obsessing about the ‘repair work’ lately. It’s like I have nearly everything else done, especially the glasses and the hair - and being just almost there….so close, but not quite.
But how much does that matter, really? Isn’t the fact that I looked good in the mirror in the crappy little shirt enough for me? Why all of the sudden do I feel so fucking greedy for wanting more than I have? I mean, the fact that I got a second chance for myself with the weightloss… that I have a good enough job that I can walk in and drop 450.00 on a pair of stylish glasses and how much ever it takes to get my hair cut/styled and highlighted… why can’t I be satisfied with that? Has my inner perfectionist gotten so loud that she’s starting to drown out the rest of me?
Maybe.
But she needs to shut the hell up because honestly --- for 43 years old, I look pretty goddamn good. What’s more is the confidence behind that smile on my face, and how much that radiates outward and makes me more attractive and dare I say it – sexier.
It’s my own attitude that decides every morning whether I feel good when I walk out that door and go to the office. It’s my own outlook that decides if the curls make it a good hair day or a bad hair day. And it’s the sincerity of my smile in the mirror that decides every day if I’m a sexy bitch, or just a lady in waiting to be perfect.
Screw perfect. Surgery will come in time. But what I have now is nothing to sneeze at. And it’s time I quit using it as an excuse to wait for my real life to start.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Pictures speak a thousand words?
I don't know if that's true or not, but the smile on my face is genuine. I love the new haircut and the new glasses. I'm feeling pretty good about now :)
Monday, April 28, 2008
The ABCs of BDSM - C's
Cage – This is a neat fantasy, providing that I’m not just stuck in a cage and left alone *grin I don’t think that’d do much for me. I know people who enjoy the headspace of that, but it’s not something I’d be that interested.
Cat O' Nine Tails – These can be fun if you’re into pain. I have one or two of these in my very overstocked toybag, I’ve played with them in conjunction other toys like whips and floggers, but outside of a real S&M scene, I’m not sure there would be much use for them.
Cattle Prod Play – watched it, not interested.
CBT – Not interested in this either. See my previous answers about fun things to do with a cock. Hurting it is not included in my list.
Cells/Closet-confined – Same as cages.
Chauffeuring – I’m not really interested in this, unless it’s for a specific reason or scene. I can see it being a hot roleplay thing but that’s about it.
Chains – I think I’ve mentioned before that I have a set of custom made chains, made for me by a friend who is a welder (I also have a welded chain spreader bar). I’ve never had them on. I’m not even sure I still have the key. They’re nice, but they’re impractical unless you’re playing at home (heavy…very heavy) and I just don’t know that I’d ever use them. Other than that, I think chain bondage loots very sexy. But metal is cold *grin
Chastity Belts – No. Please, no.
Chemical Play-peppermint oil, tiger balm, rubbing alcohol etc. – A strong mint before oral sex is fun *grin
Chosen Food For || Chosen Clothing For – as a scene or even a weekend? Yes. Every day? No. I’m not the kind of person who likes to be micromanaged 24/7.
Clothespins – This is basically the same as clamps. They can be fun, but they can also be intense.
Cockrings/cockstraps - Cockrings are fun when you’re trying to keep an erection for an extended period of time. As far as using them for anything else, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that – again with the pain not belonging in that area of a man I’m fucking….
Cock worship – This is fun …*grin
Cold Room – one of the worst kinds of torture for me. I hate being cold, and I find nothing sexy about this at all
Collars-scene I love having things around my neck. Chokers, tight necklaces and yes, collars. There is, of course, some significance to it as far as D/s is concerned. They are not just a fashion accessory. But I can’t help it if I actually like how that feels, can I? *grin
Collars- 24 hours- a leather or chain one? No. Something else with the same significance? Maybe.
Corsets-wearing – I absolutely positively love corsets. I have one real one, and a couple more that are just ‘lingerie’. I intend to have a new one made when my weight loss is complete. Not only are they sexy as hell, but it’s a secure, constricting feeling, much like the collar around a neck.
Cross Dressing – Not interested.
Cuffs-leather || Cuffs-metal – Yum. Every time you seer bondage on my list, you’re going to see me say Yum and I don’t know what more I can say that I haven’t already said *grin
Cunt Torture – Well, there’s pain and then there’s torture and I’m not much of a torture girl. Pain along with sex though….that’s fun sometimes.
Cupping - I had a friend in California who had a cupping set, and I experienced it once. Frankly it didn’t do anything for me. I know people who love it, but for me it’s one of those meh things.
Cutting-temporary || Cutting- Permanent- i.e. ash rubbing - Firstly, how is cutting temporary? Almost any cut can scar. Secondly, this falls into the branding category for me.
Cowboys/Cowgirls – I’ve admitted to a boot fetish. And a hat fetish. And I like jeans on men. Draw your own conclusions…….
I’m find a lot of duplicate topics in this list and am deleting them as I go, so if you are familiar with this list or not, you’re not missing anything. I don’t seem to have as much to say about these as I do the sex ones, but that’s likely because I’ve discussed most of these topics in this blog at one time or another.
Cat O' Nine Tails – These can be fun if you’re into pain. I have one or two of these in my very overstocked toybag, I’ve played with them in conjunction other toys like whips and floggers, but outside of a real S&M scene, I’m not sure there would be much use for them.
Cattle Prod Play – watched it, not interested.
CBT – Not interested in this either. See my previous answers about fun things to do with a cock. Hurting it is not included in my list.
Cells/Closet-confined – Same as cages.
Chauffeuring – I’m not really interested in this, unless it’s for a specific reason or scene. I can see it being a hot roleplay thing but that’s about it.
Chains – I think I’ve mentioned before that I have a set of custom made chains, made for me by a friend who is a welder (I also have a welded chain spreader bar). I’ve never had them on. I’m not even sure I still have the key. They’re nice, but they’re impractical unless you’re playing at home (heavy…very heavy) and I just don’t know that I’d ever use them. Other than that, I think chain bondage loots very sexy. But metal is cold *grin
Chastity Belts – No. Please, no.
Chemical Play-peppermint oil, tiger balm, rubbing alcohol etc. – A strong mint before oral sex is fun *grin
Chosen Food For || Chosen Clothing For – as a scene or even a weekend? Yes. Every day? No. I’m not the kind of person who likes to be micromanaged 24/7.
Clothespins – This is basically the same as clamps. They can be fun, but they can also be intense.
Cockrings/cockstraps - Cockrings are fun when you’re trying to keep an erection for an extended period of time. As far as using them for anything else, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that – again with the pain not belonging in that area of a man I’m fucking….
Cock worship – This is fun …*grin
Cold Room – one of the worst kinds of torture for me. I hate being cold, and I find nothing sexy about this at all
Collars-scene I love having things around my neck. Chokers, tight necklaces and yes, collars. There is, of course, some significance to it as far as D/s is concerned. They are not just a fashion accessory. But I can’t help it if I actually like how that feels, can I? *grin
Collars- 24 hours- a leather or chain one? No. Something else with the same significance? Maybe.
Corsets-wearing – I absolutely positively love corsets. I have one real one, and a couple more that are just ‘lingerie’. I intend to have a new one made when my weight loss is complete. Not only are they sexy as hell, but it’s a secure, constricting feeling, much like the collar around a neck.
Cross Dressing – Not interested.
Cuffs-leather || Cuffs-metal – Yum. Every time you seer bondage on my list, you’re going to see me say Yum and I don’t know what more I can say that I haven’t already said *grin
Cunt Torture – Well, there’s pain and then there’s torture and I’m not much of a torture girl. Pain along with sex though….that’s fun sometimes.
Cupping - I had a friend in California who had a cupping set, and I experienced it once. Frankly it didn’t do anything for me. I know people who love it, but for me it’s one of those meh things.
Cutting-temporary || Cutting- Permanent- i.e. ash rubbing - Firstly, how is cutting temporary? Almost any cut can scar. Secondly, this falls into the branding category for me.
Cowboys/Cowgirls – I’ve admitted to a boot fetish. And a hat fetish. And I like jeans on men. Draw your own conclusions…….
I’m find a lot of duplicate topics in this list and am deleting them as I go, so if you are familiar with this list or not, you’re not missing anything. I don’t seem to have as much to say about these as I do the sex ones, but that’s likely because I’ve discussed most of these topics in this blog at one time or another.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Sunday Night Ramble
I think I mentioned recently that I have my laptop set up in my living room on the wireless and that I’m doing the majority of my blogging from the comfort of my recliner. I love being able to do this. It’s so comfortable in here. I used to hate this chair, because I bought it for C. It’s not my taste as far as furniture and it’s certainly not my color (it’s light blue). But it’s comfortable to write in, so for now it’s safe.
Well, until I get this round chair that I saw while I was on the East Coast and fell in love with ( and have had more than one sexual fantasy about …. But that’s another story entirely. It’s sort of like this but not this big.) the recliner will have to do.
Anyway.
I have the laptop set up on a TV table next to recliner and it sits there until I need it (like now) and I stretch out. That’s my favorite part, I think. The stretching out.
I mentioned earlier that I’m at least partially double jointed. I like to find new ways that my body bends into different positions. So I’m lying here tonight, after putting up my last post, all comfortable and proud of myself, and I realized how I was laying in the chair.
The heel of my right foot was right up against the inside of my thigh. It could not have gotten any closer to the top – you know what that means without me having to say it, right? You want me to say it, don’t you? But I’m a tease, and I’m not going to *grin
While it’s true I’ve discovered a few new ways I can bend my body around since I’ve shed some weight, it’s always interesting to find a new one *grin It reminds me, mostly, of how far I have come. And on those days that I wake up unhappy with my body, those kinds of things are more than enough to pull me out of it.
Here’s to hoping I never run out of them.
Well, until I get this round chair that I saw while I was on the East Coast and fell in love with ( and have had more than one sexual fantasy about …. But that’s another story entirely. It’s sort of like this but not this big.) the recliner will have to do.
Anyway.
I have the laptop set up on a TV table next to recliner and it sits there until I need it (like now) and I stretch out. That’s my favorite part, I think. The stretching out.
I mentioned earlier that I’m at least partially double jointed. I like to find new ways that my body bends into different positions. So I’m lying here tonight, after putting up my last post, all comfortable and proud of myself, and I realized how I was laying in the chair.
The heel of my right foot was right up against the inside of my thigh. It could not have gotten any closer to the top – you know what that means without me having to say it, right? You want me to say it, don’t you? But I’m a tease, and I’m not going to *grin
While it’s true I’ve discovered a few new ways I can bend my body around since I’ve shed some weight, it’s always interesting to find a new one *grin It reminds me, mostly, of how far I have come. And on those days that I wake up unhappy with my body, those kinds of things are more than enough to pull me out of it.
Here’s to hoping I never run out of them.
Senses
The culmination of a wonderful sexual experience - the physical culmination - has such power. While the male orgasm produces much more of a tangible outcome so to speak … the female orgasm is no less powerful
Both male and female orgasms are multi-dimensional experiences, as far as the senses are concerned, whether you explore them all each time or not.
I mentioned recently that I love the smell of sex. If I can smell sex on my skin after leaving someone I’ve just been with, just that alone will keep the experience alive for me for a long time afterward. I’ve been known to stay wet for hours just from smelling a lover’s scent on my skin. That’s a very cool thing. I’m happy that I have that.
Seeing the face of someone who’s orgasming inside of you – seeing their eyes, their mouths open – such an aphrodisiac. Watching yourself get fucked in a mirror? Watching your lover cum on you, their orgasm spilling out across your skin? There’s so much to see during your time engaged with someone sexually – such a shame to waste that in the dark, don’t you think?
That orgasm that’s spilling out on you? Or on your cock or fingers if you’re a man? The feel of the skin changing, the wetness, the stickyness and softness, the viscosity of the fluid. The feel of teeth and nails against skin are hard – the feel of tongues and lips are soft. Sexuality is first and foremost about the sense of touch, isn’t it? The feel of your shirt as your lover slides it off? Their hair on your skin? Their breath against your cheek as they lean down to say something wicked?
And what about that something wicked? Words, for many of us, activate parts of our brain that would remain quiet without them during a good sound fucking. And the other noises, too. The whimpering, moaning, screaming, begging. The skin slapping against wet skin, sweat-soaked or otherwise. The clothes rustling. Things being knocked off nightstands in the heat of the moment. The occasional laughter. Sex is incredibly auditory, or at least it can be.
And then there is taste. *laugh What can we say about taste? The taste of cum, the taste of sweat, the taste of someone else’s mouth – can make you lightheaded and weak. Can make you amorous all over again. Can make you crazy with lust.
I feel bad for people who regard sex to be a one-dimensional act to simply have an orgasm and go on about life. There is so much breadth and depth to the simple act of fucking that people miss because they’re too concerned about time, about their hair getting messed up, and what other people would say. Foreplay, during play and after-play (which lives in your head for as long as you let it) are so much more important than having to brush out tangles or missing a TV show.
Let your five senses loose. Taste, feel, see, smell and hear the sex you’re having.
Yes, even if you’re just having it with yourself.
Just say yes.
Both male and female orgasms are multi-dimensional experiences, as far as the senses are concerned, whether you explore them all each time or not.
I mentioned recently that I love the smell of sex. If I can smell sex on my skin after leaving someone I’ve just been with, just that alone will keep the experience alive for me for a long time afterward. I’ve been known to stay wet for hours just from smelling a lover’s scent on my skin. That’s a very cool thing. I’m happy that I have that.
Seeing the face of someone who’s orgasming inside of you – seeing their eyes, their mouths open – such an aphrodisiac. Watching yourself get fucked in a mirror? Watching your lover cum on you, their orgasm spilling out across your skin? There’s so much to see during your time engaged with someone sexually – such a shame to waste that in the dark, don’t you think?
That orgasm that’s spilling out on you? Or on your cock or fingers if you’re a man? The feel of the skin changing, the wetness, the stickyness and softness, the viscosity of the fluid. The feel of teeth and nails against skin are hard – the feel of tongues and lips are soft. Sexuality is first and foremost about the sense of touch, isn’t it? The feel of your shirt as your lover slides it off? Their hair on your skin? Their breath against your cheek as they lean down to say something wicked?
And what about that something wicked? Words, for many of us, activate parts of our brain that would remain quiet without them during a good sound fucking. And the other noises, too. The whimpering, moaning, screaming, begging. The skin slapping against wet skin, sweat-soaked or otherwise. The clothes rustling. Things being knocked off nightstands in the heat of the moment. The occasional laughter. Sex is incredibly auditory, or at least it can be.
And then there is taste. *laugh What can we say about taste? The taste of cum, the taste of sweat, the taste of someone else’s mouth – can make you lightheaded and weak. Can make you amorous all over again. Can make you crazy with lust.
I feel bad for people who regard sex to be a one-dimensional act to simply have an orgasm and go on about life. There is so much breadth and depth to the simple act of fucking that people miss because they’re too concerned about time, about their hair getting messed up, and what other people would say. Foreplay, during play and after-play (which lives in your head for as long as you let it) are so much more important than having to brush out tangles or missing a TV show.
Let your five senses loose. Taste, feel, see, smell and hear the sex you’re having.
Yes, even if you’re just having it with yourself.
Just say yes.
The BDSM ABC's -- B's
I thought it'd be fun to break these out by letter. That gives me a good stopping and starting place *grin
Ball Stretching - male genital torture is not my idea of having a good time with that general region of the male sex :p
Bastinado – I’ll admit I had to look this up. I’ll save you the trouble. It’s foot torture. And no. I don’t even like going to have a pedicure. I don’t like anyone messing with my feet.
Bathroom use control – if we’re just talking about control over when it’s okay to go, I can see this as a short term thing. Long term, I don’t think I want that kind of micromanagement in my life.
Bestiality – see animals. No.
Beating soft || Beating hard – Depends, but as a general rule, yes. Spanking, flogging, paddling something – depending on the person wielding the weapon of red-ass-giving, I may enjoy this very much. I’ve had beatings I loved, and beatings I hated. As with most anything with me, intent is the deciding factor. If this is an experience for us to share, I can go about any distance. If it’s about showing off, making someone else jealous, something nefarious like that – then no, I’m not going to enjoy it. I’m not in it for pain. Period.
Being Bitten – Yes, please.
Being Blindfolded - Yes, please. This used to actually bother me, but not for typical reasons. I hated being the center of attention. I hated being at someone else’s mercy. Neither of those things bother me in that way anymore. Now, it’s about trusting someone and using the lack of sight as a way to heighten the other senses. Yum.
Being Gagged – This is something I’ve changed my mind on a couple of times over the years. Having a big part of my sexual identity wrapped up in NOT being quiet (ffs, Screamer…hello….) makes me want to immediately say no to this. But maybe I’d be willing to give this a try, depending on the situation. Although, ball gags are out, just because I find them ugly and as unsexy as you can get.
Being serviced-sex – A year ago I might have said yuck, but the fact is, I’ve gotten to play with being ‘in charge’ in bed a couple of times and I have to admit that when it comes to sex, that can be fun. Especially if the other person is into it, and is so obviously willing to be pleasing *grin It’s one example of switching that I think I can firmly stand behind
Biting - well, since being bitten was already on the list, I’m going to have to assume that this means biting someone else. And yes. Whimpering, moaning, carrying on is one way of releasing energy during sex. Scratching and biting are another. I enjoy all of them. Honestly I don’t think I bite all that often. Maybe because I’m rarely in a position to, unless I’m ‘in charge’ *grin.
Blood Play – There was a time when I wanted to bleed. I think that time has passed. I’ve found better ways to release than that. I think, in a committed relationship, if it was important to my partner, I’d be willing to openly discuss it, but it’s not something I’d activity seek.
Breast Bondage – I had my breasts bound once, during an experimental phase that M was having with everything in the book “Screw the Roses, Send me the Thorns.” We bought the book in San Francisco and went through it together when he was exploring his ‘kinks’. I can take this or leave it. It’s not giving me any of the rush I get from being bound – meaning that I lose control – it’s mostly an ornamental thing. I think it can be pretty, if you’re going for pretty. And I have seen in done in conjunction with other forms of bondage – like a rope harness. And I’ve seen it done in conjunction with a hog-tie (which I love). On it’s own, though? I can take it or leave it.
Branding – No. I watched a branding once, at an event in San Jose. It’s not that I have anything against it, but that kind of pain isn’t for me, and I can think of a few more interesting ways to be marked *grin
Boot Worship – I love boots. There’s no question about that. I love them on me. I love them on men. And I love them on other women. But outside of a very serious dominant-submissive ‘scene’, I can’t see myself ‘worshiping’ them.
Bondage-Light || Bondage-heavy – Yes, please. I think I’ve written pretty extensively about this recently, so I’ll just leave it at that.
Breast Clamping - I used to love clamps. I might yet again. But the last time I tried them, the pain was pretty intense. My nipples can take a lot – biting, etc – but the set of clamps I have with me were the nasty ones. Maybe next time I’ll get the prettier ones out and try them again *grin. I do like to have my nipples hurt. I can’t explain why, nor do I care enough to put any great deal of thought into it. It’s just one of those things, you know? One of those things that make me absolutely crazy, especially in foreplay and during sex. It is what it is. And it’s something that I absolutely love.
Breast Whipping – I have a little bit of experience with this, and more than a little bit of interest in it. Much like with my nipples, my breasts are sensitive to hot, cold and pain, and I enjoy that stimulation. Hard or soft.
Brown Showers - No.
Butt Plugs – I actually own two. One small one, one large one. I’ve used the small one on several occasions, and even wore it out to dinner once (hint: make sure it’s lubed overly well before you do this, it wears off fast and becomes more of a distraction in an uncomfortable way than a distraction in a good way – but maybe your goal is uncomfortable so…. yea) I don’t think I’ve ever had the large one all the way in my ass. I’ve played with it a bit, but it’s never been fully inserted. Maybe I’ll have to try that sometime *grin
And that’s the B’s!
Ball Stretching - male genital torture is not my idea of having a good time with that general region of the male sex :p
Bastinado – I’ll admit I had to look this up. I’ll save you the trouble. It’s foot torture. And no. I don’t even like going to have a pedicure. I don’t like anyone messing with my feet.
Bathroom use control – if we’re just talking about control over when it’s okay to go, I can see this as a short term thing. Long term, I don’t think I want that kind of micromanagement in my life.
Bestiality – see animals. No.
Beating soft || Beating hard – Depends, but as a general rule, yes. Spanking, flogging, paddling something – depending on the person wielding the weapon of red-ass-giving, I may enjoy this very much. I’ve had beatings I loved, and beatings I hated. As with most anything with me, intent is the deciding factor. If this is an experience for us to share, I can go about any distance. If it’s about showing off, making someone else jealous, something nefarious like that – then no, I’m not going to enjoy it. I’m not in it for pain. Period.
Being Bitten – Yes, please.
Being Blindfolded - Yes, please. This used to actually bother me, but not for typical reasons. I hated being the center of attention. I hated being at someone else’s mercy. Neither of those things bother me in that way anymore. Now, it’s about trusting someone and using the lack of sight as a way to heighten the other senses. Yum.
Being Gagged – This is something I’ve changed my mind on a couple of times over the years. Having a big part of my sexual identity wrapped up in NOT being quiet (ffs, Screamer…hello….) makes me want to immediately say no to this. But maybe I’d be willing to give this a try, depending on the situation. Although, ball gags are out, just because I find them ugly and as unsexy as you can get.
Being serviced-sex – A year ago I might have said yuck, but the fact is, I’ve gotten to play with being ‘in charge’ in bed a couple of times and I have to admit that when it comes to sex, that can be fun. Especially if the other person is into it, and is so obviously willing to be pleasing *grin It’s one example of switching that I think I can firmly stand behind
Biting - well, since being bitten was already on the list, I’m going to have to assume that this means biting someone else. And yes. Whimpering, moaning, carrying on is one way of releasing energy during sex. Scratching and biting are another. I enjoy all of them. Honestly I don’t think I bite all that often. Maybe because I’m rarely in a position to, unless I’m ‘in charge’ *grin.
Blood Play – There was a time when I wanted to bleed. I think that time has passed. I’ve found better ways to release than that. I think, in a committed relationship, if it was important to my partner, I’d be willing to openly discuss it, but it’s not something I’d activity seek.
Breast Bondage – I had my breasts bound once, during an experimental phase that M was having with everything in the book “Screw the Roses, Send me the Thorns.” We bought the book in San Francisco and went through it together when he was exploring his ‘kinks’. I can take this or leave it. It’s not giving me any of the rush I get from being bound – meaning that I lose control – it’s mostly an ornamental thing. I think it can be pretty, if you’re going for pretty. And I have seen in done in conjunction with other forms of bondage – like a rope harness. And I’ve seen it done in conjunction with a hog-tie (which I love). On it’s own, though? I can take it or leave it.
Branding – No. I watched a branding once, at an event in San Jose. It’s not that I have anything against it, but that kind of pain isn’t for me, and I can think of a few more interesting ways to be marked *grin
Boot Worship – I love boots. There’s no question about that. I love them on me. I love them on men. And I love them on other women. But outside of a very serious dominant-submissive ‘scene’, I can’t see myself ‘worshiping’ them.
Bondage-Light || Bondage-heavy – Yes, please. I think I’ve written pretty extensively about this recently, so I’ll just leave it at that.
Breast Clamping - I used to love clamps. I might yet again. But the last time I tried them, the pain was pretty intense. My nipples can take a lot – biting, etc – but the set of clamps I have with me were the nasty ones. Maybe next time I’ll get the prettier ones out and try them again *grin. I do like to have my nipples hurt. I can’t explain why, nor do I care enough to put any great deal of thought into it. It’s just one of those things, you know? One of those things that make me absolutely crazy, especially in foreplay and during sex. It is what it is. And it’s something that I absolutely love.
Breast Whipping – I have a little bit of experience with this, and more than a little bit of interest in it. Much like with my nipples, my breasts are sensitive to hot, cold and pain, and I enjoy that stimulation. Hard or soft.
Brown Showers - No.
Butt Plugs – I actually own two. One small one, one large one. I’ve used the small one on several occasions, and even wore it out to dinner once (hint: make sure it’s lubed overly well before you do this, it wears off fast and becomes more of a distraction in an uncomfortable way than a distraction in a good way – but maybe your goal is uncomfortable so…. yea) I don’t think I’ve ever had the large one all the way in my ass. I’ve played with it a bit, but it’s never been fully inserted. Maybe I’ll have to try that sometime *grin
And that’s the B’s!
Friday, April 25, 2008
A new set questions for a new week!
So, I did this entire sex questionnaire a couple weeks ago. Tonight, I got a link to an ‘old’ bdsm checklist from a list I’m on and it’s way more extensive than any other one I’ve seen before. And since my topic list is getting shorter, I thought maybe I’d maybe throw some answers into some topics and see where my mind wanders off to. I like these things. They’re fun. And they let me think about things I might not have thought about before. It’s also a good way to log answers to them so I can refer to them later on.
So I’ll start on that.
But before that, I ordered my new glasses Wednesday, and I love them. They are the antithesis of what I wear now and I’m very excited about them.
I’m pretty happy with both of those changes. Because I finally got C to at least start the divorce proceedings and I want to accompany that milestone with some updates for myself.
So since I’m feeling so good, I’m going to pick out the first couple off this list and run through them before I go get busy doing something else.
Abrasion - abrasion to me are things like sandpaper, fingernail files, fingernails themselves. I don’t have much experience with anything but the fingernails. And fingernails, scratched over the top of a freshly spanked or flogged ass – rawr. Fingernails, like biting, during sex are one of those things that will amp up an otherwise normal sexual experience. I’ve said many times that pain accompanying sex is one of those things that will ramp up an oncoming orgasm for me. So, yes. *grin
Age Play - I’ve written about this many times, from many different approaches, with many different attitudes. I think a little teenage slut or teenage angel is fun, but any younger than that doesn’t appeal to me.
Animals/Insects/Reptiles - Not so much. As a matter of fact, not at all.
Animal Roles – No interest. I know people who enjoy it, and more power to them, but it’s just not my thing
Anal Sex-cock || Anal Sex-dildo/butt plug || Anal Sex-fingers/fist - I wrote about anal sex with the other questionnaire, all except the fist part. I’m going to have to say not so much to that, too. While I enjoy anal play and I don’t shy away from size (anymore), I don’t think that’s something I’d be interested in playing with. Butt plugs? Sure. Dildos? Sure. Cock? Definitely. Fingers? Sure. One? Two? Maybe even three? Yes. But not a fist. Fisting, to me, is more of a mental thing, and the last thing I want at the point when I’m in the throes of enjoying anal, is to have to stop and think about it. I want to just enjoy it. It’d be something I’d be willing to consider in a bdsm relationship, but not for casual play.
Arm & Leg sleeves – I’m not sure what the point of leg sleeves are, unless it’s strictly a bondage-without-sex-or-play situation. But arm sleeves hold some appeal for me. I wrote the other night about having my arms tied behind me; this is kind that squared.
Aromas – I’m not sure what the intended meaning of this is, but there are certain aromas that I find sexy. The Scent of Men is one of them *grin. I love how men smell, period. I also find a darker vanilla scent sexy. I guess I’ve never heard of scents being used in a bdsm sense, so that’s all I got. *laugh
Asphyxiation – as with anything else, there are degrees of this. Do I like a hand across the front of my throat during sex play? Yes. With a little pressure? Yes. Do I want someone to wrap their hands around my throat and knock me out? No. For me it’s not about the breath play, it’s about fear. There was a time when C and I first got back together that we had some pretty frank discussions about new stuff we’d like to try. On my list were the hand-on-throat thing as well as light face slapping. One afternoon, as he passed me in the hallway of his apartment, he reached out, grabbed my arm, lightly tapped my cheek with his hand and then put it around my throat and kissed me very hard. Yes, my knees almost gave out. Shame that’s the only time he ever did either of those things. Maybe we’d have had more fun if he’d been willing to step out of his little box.
Auctioned for Charity – I’ll be honest. I laughed the first time I read this. I gave it a little serious thought, because I try very hard not to laugh things off that other people take seriously. I think if the cause were good enough, I’d auction off a couple hours of my time, or an evening – with some guidelines of course. In a bdsm sense, I’d have no problem doing so, but as far as sex? Not unless it was a roleplay situation. For real, no, I can’t see myself consenting to that. It’s kind of a hot fantasy though, huh? *grin
And that’s the A’s.
Happy Friday Night!
So I’ll start on that.
But before that, I ordered my new glasses Wednesday, and I love them. They are the antithesis of what I wear now and I’m very excited about them.
I’m pretty happy with both of those changes. Because I finally got C to at least start the divorce proceedings and I want to accompany that milestone with some updates for myself.
So since I’m feeling so good, I’m going to pick out the first couple off this list and run through them before I go get busy doing something else.
Abrasion - abrasion to me are things like sandpaper, fingernail files, fingernails themselves. I don’t have much experience with anything but the fingernails. And fingernails, scratched over the top of a freshly spanked or flogged ass – rawr. Fingernails, like biting, during sex are one of those things that will amp up an otherwise normal sexual experience. I’ve said many times that pain accompanying sex is one of those things that will ramp up an oncoming orgasm for me. So, yes. *grin
Age Play - I’ve written about this many times, from many different approaches, with many different attitudes. I think a little teenage slut or teenage angel is fun, but any younger than that doesn’t appeal to me.
Animals/Insects/Reptiles - Not so much. As a matter of fact, not at all.
Animal Roles – No interest. I know people who enjoy it, and more power to them, but it’s just not my thing
Anal Sex-cock || Anal Sex-dildo/butt plug || Anal Sex-fingers/fist - I wrote about anal sex with the other questionnaire, all except the fist part. I’m going to have to say not so much to that, too. While I enjoy anal play and I don’t shy away from size (anymore), I don’t think that’s something I’d be interested in playing with. Butt plugs? Sure. Dildos? Sure. Cock? Definitely. Fingers? Sure. One? Two? Maybe even three? Yes. But not a fist. Fisting, to me, is more of a mental thing, and the last thing I want at the point when I’m in the throes of enjoying anal, is to have to stop and think about it. I want to just enjoy it. It’d be something I’d be willing to consider in a bdsm relationship, but not for casual play.
Arm & Leg sleeves – I’m not sure what the point of leg sleeves are, unless it’s strictly a bondage-without-sex-or-play situation. But arm sleeves hold some appeal for me. I wrote the other night about having my arms tied behind me; this is kind that squared.
Aromas – I’m not sure what the intended meaning of this is, but there are certain aromas that I find sexy. The Scent of Men is one of them *grin. I love how men smell, period. I also find a darker vanilla scent sexy. I guess I’ve never heard of scents being used in a bdsm sense, so that’s all I got. *laugh
Asphyxiation – as with anything else, there are degrees of this. Do I like a hand across the front of my throat during sex play? Yes. With a little pressure? Yes. Do I want someone to wrap their hands around my throat and knock me out? No. For me it’s not about the breath play, it’s about fear. There was a time when C and I first got back together that we had some pretty frank discussions about new stuff we’d like to try. On my list were the hand-on-throat thing as well as light face slapping. One afternoon, as he passed me in the hallway of his apartment, he reached out, grabbed my arm, lightly tapped my cheek with his hand and then put it around my throat and kissed me very hard. Yes, my knees almost gave out. Shame that’s the only time he ever did either of those things. Maybe we’d have had more fun if he’d been willing to step out of his little box.
Auctioned for Charity – I’ll be honest. I laughed the first time I read this. I gave it a little serious thought, because I try very hard not to laugh things off that other people take seriously. I think if the cause were good enough, I’d auction off a couple hours of my time, or an evening – with some guidelines of course. In a bdsm sense, I’d have no problem doing so, but as far as sex? Not unless it was a roleplay situation. For real, no, I can’t see myself consenting to that. It’s kind of a hot fantasy though, huh? *grin
And that’s the A’s.
Happy Friday Night!
So, yea
Who knew I had this much curl in me?
I got my hair cut today. The sides have long, soft layers that start at my chin and go all the way to the end - I took no length off the back and when my stylist found out I was doing something different, she went a little crazy *grin. I probably would not put this much curl in it, but as a shocker to something new, I gotta say I'm loving it. The cut has a lot of versatility and I can wear it straight, curly or in between. I can put as much or as little time into that I want.
And that's exactly what I wanted. It doesn't have to look the same every day. And since I don't feel the same every day, I shouldn't have to look the same every day. And frankly right now it makes me feel sexy as hell. I needed a change, and I got it. I can't wait to see it with my new glasses!
Great way to start a weekend of writing other things!
I got my hair cut today. The sides have long, soft layers that start at my chin and go all the way to the end - I took no length off the back and when my stylist found out I was doing something different, she went a little crazy *grin. I probably would not put this much curl in it, but as a shocker to something new, I gotta say I'm loving it. The cut has a lot of versatility and I can wear it straight, curly or in between. I can put as much or as little time into that I want.
And that's exactly what I wanted. It doesn't have to look the same every day. And since I don't feel the same every day, I shouldn't have to look the same every day. And frankly right now it makes me feel sexy as hell. I needed a change, and I got it. I can't wait to see it with my new glasses!
Great way to start a weekend of writing other things!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Break from all that serious...
There is something very sexy about bondage. That’s not a secret with me, right? But I saw this image awhile back and it struck me pretty hard for whatever reason. It’s a lot of rope and a lot of work and the same effect could be achieved with a lot less time and energy. It’s not that her hands are bound, or that there is rope around her body. It’s her arms that intrigues me.
When I was filling out the questionnaire, I made mention of my experiences with bondage inside a bdsm relationship. It *can be for show. It *can be a lot of work. It *can be just for discipline or pain play purposes. But it doesn’t have to be for any of those reasons. And it doesn’t have to be any of those things. Sometimes, bondage can just be – because.
Arms behind my back? Hot. It’s just a little bit more forceful than my hands. It’s just a little bit more serious. It’s just a little bit more intimidating and real. I can only remember being bound like that once, and it was at a party. It was fun, because the binder was a good friend of mine but it didn’t go much further than that, and that’s always disappointed me a little.
Maybe that’s why hog-tie pictures, like this one, always intrigue me, too.
Maybe I just felt like posting pretty bondage pictures. *smirk
When I was filling out the questionnaire, I made mention of my experiences with bondage inside a bdsm relationship. It *can be for show. It *can be a lot of work. It *can be just for discipline or pain play purposes. But it doesn’t have to be for any of those reasons. And it doesn’t have to be any of those things. Sometimes, bondage can just be – because.
Arms behind my back? Hot. It’s just a little bit more forceful than my hands. It’s just a little bit more serious. It’s just a little bit more intimidating and real. I can only remember being bound like that once, and it was at a party. It was fun, because the binder was a good friend of mine but it didn’t go much further than that, and that’s always disappointed me a little.
Maybe that’s why hog-tie pictures, like this one, always intrigue me, too.
Maybe I just felt like posting pretty bondage pictures. *smirk
Growing Up
So, I got pretty pissed off last Tuesday when I did my taxes. And yes, I waited til the last minute because for the last couple years, I've owed to federal. Why pay them before I have to? Anyway, this married filing separately shit costs me money, and I'm sick of it. So I called C. And left him a wicked serious voice mail. And continued to be wicked serious when he called me back.
Somewhere between then, and Sunday night when he called again to tell me that he was too broke to file divorce papers (I straighted him out on that btw), something in me snapped. I have put so much stuff on hold for the last three years -- while I waited to get divorced, while I waited to hit my goal weight -- while I waited to decide where I wanted to live -- that I forgot that I was burning daylight so to speak, and that my life was continuing to move on, with or without my active participation.
Being on hold sucks. And even without the Muzak, it continues to drain life from me every day that I let it win.
So I'm done with that now. Or at least, I'm trying to be done with that. I made the appointment to go see my eye doctor for a checkup and a new pair of glasses. I made an appointment for Friday to go get my hair cut differently (not short, oh hell no, not the back anyway) and while I'm doing that on Friday I'm going to actually try some clothes on and try to break out of this "too big for me but safe" wardrobe thing I got goin' on. I need to learn to work with what I have now, not what I'll have in a year. And I need to learn to be happy with it, because let's face it. I'm a hell of a lot better off than I have been in my entire life. I'm working out at home, I'm walking on my lunch hour, and I'm actually seriously considering re-joining the gym across the street.
Before I get my name back, I'm going to have quit smoking too. Those will be the last two pieces to get put into the puzzle to solve it. Every week, the cigarette money will go into the Plastic Surgery fund instead of my lungs.
But until then, I'm going to learn to work with what is on my plate -right now-. And you know what? It's not all that bad.
At work, when I've been buried eyeball deep in a project for a few hours or a few days, I start to lose my perspective of the big picture. I become focused and tuned to it, and I start missing the pieces I can't see right in front of me at the time. And I started to do that with my life, too.
Enough. No more punishing myself for not being perfect yet.
Somewhere between then, and Sunday night when he called again to tell me that he was too broke to file divorce papers (I straighted him out on that btw), something in me snapped. I have put so much stuff on hold for the last three years -- while I waited to get divorced, while I waited to hit my goal weight -- while I waited to decide where I wanted to live -- that I forgot that I was burning daylight so to speak, and that my life was continuing to move on, with or without my active participation.
Being on hold sucks. And even without the Muzak, it continues to drain life from me every day that I let it win.
So I'm done with that now. Or at least, I'm trying to be done with that. I made the appointment to go see my eye doctor for a checkup and a new pair of glasses. I made an appointment for Friday to go get my hair cut differently (not short, oh hell no, not the back anyway) and while I'm doing that on Friday I'm going to actually try some clothes on and try to break out of this "too big for me but safe" wardrobe thing I got goin' on. I need to learn to work with what I have now, not what I'll have in a year. And I need to learn to be happy with it, because let's face it. I'm a hell of a lot better off than I have been in my entire life. I'm working out at home, I'm walking on my lunch hour, and I'm actually seriously considering re-joining the gym across the street.
Before I get my name back, I'm going to have quit smoking too. Those will be the last two pieces to get put into the puzzle to solve it. Every week, the cigarette money will go into the Plastic Surgery fund instead of my lungs.
But until then, I'm going to learn to work with what is on my plate -right now-. And you know what? It's not all that bad.
At work, when I've been buried eyeball deep in a project for a few hours or a few days, I start to lose my perspective of the big picture. I become focused and tuned to it, and I start missing the pieces I can't see right in front of me at the time. And I started to do that with my life, too.
Enough. No more punishing myself for not being perfect yet.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Energy
This has been a different kind of weekend for me. Typically on the weekends, I do my chores while playing on the computer or watching TV. I spend maybe a little time writing but more often than not, I’m messing around on the computer.
This weekend I undertook spring-cleaning. I nearly finished the whole house, including my own closets, but still have a little left to do. But I didn’t spend all of my off time in my office playing games. I spent it in my recliner, where my laptop and my wireless network make it possible for me to write. And write I did.
I drew some sexual energy from a conversation that I had with a friend on Friday and I’ve managed to hold onto it all weekend, and I’ve used that energy to draw upon, to cover some blog topics I’ve been meaning to get to, and to write one full piece of fiction and start another. Not to say that the energy didn’t get enhanced over the two days, because it definitely did. But I’ve managed to keep hold of it, even while cleaning and sorting through stuff.
I’m a person who likes to live in that state of ‘almost sexually excited’ as often as I possibly can. Because again, that sexual energy feeds my creativity. All creative people get inspired differently. Sex just happens to be my most reliable source. Even the slightest innuendo can make me grin and start to feel that little bit of heat. And if that’s all it is, it stays there and it keeps my awareness high, and keeps me on the edge of ‘where is this headed’. And I can definitely pull creativity from that.
That little bit of inspiration can come from a lot of places. Conversations in IM, email, reading other people’s writing, my own imagination and even things that touch one of the five senses, like voice or smell. I don’t need another person to feed it. But when I get that fed from another person, it seems to take me in directions that I wouldn’t necessarily think to go without it.
If I hear a man’s voice that I’ve heard in the throes of sex at a completely unsexual time, it can definitely turn my mind toward that path. Not always. But often enough. If I catch a whiff of something that reminds me of sex, or of a certain place and a certain time when I had that sexual energy cooking, it’s enough to send me off somewhere.
I’ve talked about all of that a lot this weekend because it’s been on my mind. I can go months it seems without being inspired, but the truth is, it’s not inspiration I’ve lacked at those times when the blog seemed dead and I was nowhere to be found. It was drive. It was motivation. It was energy. When I have all of those things, and when I am inspired, I am unstoppable at my keyboard. And those are the times when I am most satisfied with myself. When I am writing, and writing about things that make me smile, laugh, or want to run for my vibrator *grin
It’s definitely time for me to start thinking about publishing again. I have a huge backlog of stories that need to be edited and sorted out. I have some topics I’ve written about here that could easily be turned into essays. And I have my old book of poetry just sitting around, and since my publisher went out of business completely, I need to start thinking about either republishing it as it is, or adding to it.
This is something that honestly fulfills me and makes me feel happy and makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something. I need to take all of this creative energy and enrich my whole life with it.
It’s time for me to continue the trend from this weekend. To spend more time with the laptop and less time wasting time.
We’ll see how that works out *grin
This weekend I undertook spring-cleaning. I nearly finished the whole house, including my own closets, but still have a little left to do. But I didn’t spend all of my off time in my office playing games. I spent it in my recliner, where my laptop and my wireless network make it possible for me to write. And write I did.
I drew some sexual energy from a conversation that I had with a friend on Friday and I’ve managed to hold onto it all weekend, and I’ve used that energy to draw upon, to cover some blog topics I’ve been meaning to get to, and to write one full piece of fiction and start another. Not to say that the energy didn’t get enhanced over the two days, because it definitely did. But I’ve managed to keep hold of it, even while cleaning and sorting through stuff.
I’m a person who likes to live in that state of ‘almost sexually excited’ as often as I possibly can. Because again, that sexual energy feeds my creativity. All creative people get inspired differently. Sex just happens to be my most reliable source. Even the slightest innuendo can make me grin and start to feel that little bit of heat. And if that’s all it is, it stays there and it keeps my awareness high, and keeps me on the edge of ‘where is this headed’. And I can definitely pull creativity from that.
That little bit of inspiration can come from a lot of places. Conversations in IM, email, reading other people’s writing, my own imagination and even things that touch one of the five senses, like voice or smell. I don’t need another person to feed it. But when I get that fed from another person, it seems to take me in directions that I wouldn’t necessarily think to go without it.
If I hear a man’s voice that I’ve heard in the throes of sex at a completely unsexual time, it can definitely turn my mind toward that path. Not always. But often enough. If I catch a whiff of something that reminds me of sex, or of a certain place and a certain time when I had that sexual energy cooking, it’s enough to send me off somewhere.
I’ve talked about all of that a lot this weekend because it’s been on my mind. I can go months it seems without being inspired, but the truth is, it’s not inspiration I’ve lacked at those times when the blog seemed dead and I was nowhere to be found. It was drive. It was motivation. It was energy. When I have all of those things, and when I am inspired, I am unstoppable at my keyboard. And those are the times when I am most satisfied with myself. When I am writing, and writing about things that make me smile, laugh, or want to run for my vibrator *grin
It’s definitely time for me to start thinking about publishing again. I have a huge backlog of stories that need to be edited and sorted out. I have some topics I’ve written about here that could easily be turned into essays. And I have my old book of poetry just sitting around, and since my publisher went out of business completely, I need to start thinking about either republishing it as it is, or adding to it.
This is something that honestly fulfills me and makes me feel happy and makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something. I need to take all of this creative energy and enrich my whole life with it.
It’s time for me to continue the trend from this weekend. To spend more time with the laptop and less time wasting time.
We’ll see how that works out *grin
Virtually Sex (Part Two)
So, there’s cyber. And sometimes, cyber leads to something else.
Phone sex.
In the time line of my life, that’s the order they came to me, too. Until I started making connections with people online, phone sex to me was a 1-900 number commercial in the back of a porn magazine. It never occurred to me that people actually did it for fun with people they ‘knew’.
I think C was the first person I experienced that with, and it came about during a candid conversation about him coming up with a nickname for me. We started talking about everything sexual, and when I told him that I was not a ‘quiet’ girl, he decided he wanted to hear for himself. It grew organically from that (and that’s where Screamer came from).
Over the years, I’ve experienced it with several other people, but typically only with people I’d cybered with, or was in an actual relationship with. I’ll be the first to admit that phone sex is easier with someone that I’ve actually fucked in the flesh. But it’s also a good way to learn if the person on the other end of the line is someone I even want to fuck.
I want to hear the person on the other end of the line. I don’t just mean words, but those are important, too. I want to hear them as if they were lying on top of me and making those noises in my ear. I’m not a quiet lover and I am not all that fond of quiet lovers either. There are of course exceptions; times that it’s important to be quiet, but just as with myself, I want to hear how much someone is enjoying what they’re doing – or what’s being done to them – at the time. It’s a sexy form of feedback. And I’m someone who likes to know how I’m doing *grin
Phone sex varies from person to person. Some men want to do all the talking. They want to ask questions and have you answer them. They want to hear you moan and whimper but *they want to be the storyteller. And there are others that are completely opposite. They want you to direct them. They don’t want to touch their cock unless you tell them to. And then there are those that are collaborative. They want to contribute and they want you to contribute.
Some men want to hear you talk about what you’re doing. Some want to hear about what you’d like to be doing to them. And some want to actually *hear – not just your typical sex noises but they want to hear a slap, want to her how wet you are, things along those lines.
The first time you get on the phone with someone with the thought in the back of your head that it could lead to mutual masturbation across a phone line can be a little scary. Unless you’re specifically discussed it before hand, you don’t know which kind of person they are. Are you supposed to talk or react? Are you supposed to tell the story? Are you supposed to describe where your hands are? Because I’ve gone all different ways I typically wait to see what happens, and let it happen more naturally. Sometimes I do take the wheel, and I do enjoy that as well. But for phone sex to be good for both people on the phone, it needs to be a cooperative effort.
Above all, isn’t it supposed to be fun? Live porn, with someone who have made a sexual connection with? It’s like coactive erotica.
I don’t get the same things from phone sex that I get from cyber. I don’t get that creative energy most of the time.
But I do get other things. I get a voice.
And along with hands that I wrote about yesterday and masculinity and body hair that I wrote about yesterday, a man’s voice can be a very big turn on for me. He doesn’t have to sound like Barry White, and he doesn’t have to have an accent (though…accents are fun *grin) but when I can start relating a voice to a sexual experience, it just adds another sense on top of an already heightened experience. A strong voice on the phone when I’m feeling a sexual vibe can almost hypnotize me. That all maybe a holdover from when I was mostly into bdsm as opposed to other kinds of sex. Regardless, it's there and I feel it deeply.
So all in all, phone sex with someone that I have a good sexual energy with can be a great way of being able to express that. Even at times when I feel more shy than others (and believe it or not, I can be painfully shy sometimes), I can be drawn into it.
When I first started experiencing phone sex, I didn’t think I’d become a proponent of it. It hasn’t always been a comfortable thing for me, but once I do feel comfortable with someone, it can be a way to explore fantasies that one or both of you have. It can be a way of experimenting with something that you might like to do in person with the person on the other end of the phone someday and while it’s not a 100% guarantee, it’s a good way to at least gauge their interest.
Besides all of that, if you’re on the phone with someone with whom you have a good chemistry with, the experience can leave you sated in ways that cyber without that added sense of voice can.
And it is called phone *sex, isn’t it? *grin
Phone sex.
In the time line of my life, that’s the order they came to me, too. Until I started making connections with people online, phone sex to me was a 1-900 number commercial in the back of a porn magazine. It never occurred to me that people actually did it for fun with people they ‘knew’.
I think C was the first person I experienced that with, and it came about during a candid conversation about him coming up with a nickname for me. We started talking about everything sexual, and when I told him that I was not a ‘quiet’ girl, he decided he wanted to hear for himself. It grew organically from that (and that’s where Screamer came from).
Over the years, I’ve experienced it with several other people, but typically only with people I’d cybered with, or was in an actual relationship with. I’ll be the first to admit that phone sex is easier with someone that I’ve actually fucked in the flesh. But it’s also a good way to learn if the person on the other end of the line is someone I even want to fuck.
I want to hear the person on the other end of the line. I don’t just mean words, but those are important, too. I want to hear them as if they were lying on top of me and making those noises in my ear. I’m not a quiet lover and I am not all that fond of quiet lovers either. There are of course exceptions; times that it’s important to be quiet, but just as with myself, I want to hear how much someone is enjoying what they’re doing – or what’s being done to them – at the time. It’s a sexy form of feedback. And I’m someone who likes to know how I’m doing *grin
Phone sex varies from person to person. Some men want to do all the talking. They want to ask questions and have you answer them. They want to hear you moan and whimper but *they want to be the storyteller. And there are others that are completely opposite. They want you to direct them. They don’t want to touch their cock unless you tell them to. And then there are those that are collaborative. They want to contribute and they want you to contribute.
Some men want to hear you talk about what you’re doing. Some want to hear about what you’d like to be doing to them. And some want to actually *hear – not just your typical sex noises but they want to hear a slap, want to her how wet you are, things along those lines.
The first time you get on the phone with someone with the thought in the back of your head that it could lead to mutual masturbation across a phone line can be a little scary. Unless you’re specifically discussed it before hand, you don’t know which kind of person they are. Are you supposed to talk or react? Are you supposed to tell the story? Are you supposed to describe where your hands are? Because I’ve gone all different ways I typically wait to see what happens, and let it happen more naturally. Sometimes I do take the wheel, and I do enjoy that as well. But for phone sex to be good for both people on the phone, it needs to be a cooperative effort.
Above all, isn’t it supposed to be fun? Live porn, with someone who have made a sexual connection with? It’s like coactive erotica.
I don’t get the same things from phone sex that I get from cyber. I don’t get that creative energy most of the time.
But I do get other things. I get a voice.
And along with hands that I wrote about yesterday and masculinity and body hair that I wrote about yesterday, a man’s voice can be a very big turn on for me. He doesn’t have to sound like Barry White, and he doesn’t have to have an accent (though…accents are fun *grin) but when I can start relating a voice to a sexual experience, it just adds another sense on top of an already heightened experience. A strong voice on the phone when I’m feeling a sexual vibe can almost hypnotize me. That all maybe a holdover from when I was mostly into bdsm as opposed to other kinds of sex. Regardless, it's there and I feel it deeply.
So all in all, phone sex with someone that I have a good sexual energy with can be a great way of being able to express that. Even at times when I feel more shy than others (and believe it or not, I can be painfully shy sometimes), I can be drawn into it.
When I first started experiencing phone sex, I didn’t think I’d become a proponent of it. It hasn’t always been a comfortable thing for me, but once I do feel comfortable with someone, it can be a way to explore fantasies that one or both of you have. It can be a way of experimenting with something that you might like to do in person with the person on the other end of the phone someday and while it’s not a 100% guarantee, it’s a good way to at least gauge their interest.
Besides all of that, if you’re on the phone with someone with whom you have a good chemistry with, the experience can leave you sated in ways that cyber without that added sense of voice can.
And it is called phone *sex, isn’t it? *grin
Saturday, April 19, 2008
It's the little things ...
I wrote about hands earlier. And how sexy I find strong, masculine hands.
But there are other things that say masculinity to me. Things that I find incredibly sexy. Things that make my knees weak. I like manly men. I like men who look like and sound like and smell like and *feel like men. Men have those physical characteristics that I find so enthralling.
My email box tonight reminded me of one that I hadn’t consciously thought of for awhile.
I love chest hair. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that before. But the fact is there’s something I like a little bit more. That line of hair that runs from a man’s navel to their pubic bone – thick or thin, dark or light - as long as I can see it against the color of his skin – as long as it’s evident – it’s almost enough to wind me up.
It’s not just that it’s a very masculine thing. It’s because it’s a very subtle way of leading my eyes, my fingers or my tongue to what lies beneath it. I always want to see where that line of hair goes, whether in my mind or in the flesh.
The fashion these days seems to be for men to shave off most of their body hair, especially facial hair and chest hair. I think that’s a shame. I realize that some women do like that, but for me, that’s like taking away one of my play toys *grin Leave it alone. I like it just the way it is.
I am a fan of subtle. That’s why when someone asks me what I find sexy, the first things that spring to my mind are not cock, ass, lips… it’s the little things, that add up to be big things for me. Like the hands. And that hair ….
Men are visual creatures. That’s not news. But it might interest those visual creatures to know that women can be that way, too. It’s just different things we want to look at *grin
But there are other things that say masculinity to me. Things that I find incredibly sexy. Things that make my knees weak. I like manly men. I like men who look like and sound like and smell like and *feel like men. Men have those physical characteristics that I find so enthralling.
My email box tonight reminded me of one that I hadn’t consciously thought of for awhile.
I love chest hair. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that before. But the fact is there’s something I like a little bit more. That line of hair that runs from a man’s navel to their pubic bone – thick or thin, dark or light - as long as I can see it against the color of his skin – as long as it’s evident – it’s almost enough to wind me up.
It’s not just that it’s a very masculine thing. It’s because it’s a very subtle way of leading my eyes, my fingers or my tongue to what lies beneath it. I always want to see where that line of hair goes, whether in my mind or in the flesh.
The fashion these days seems to be for men to shave off most of their body hair, especially facial hair and chest hair. I think that’s a shame. I realize that some women do like that, but for me, that’s like taking away one of my play toys *grin Leave it alone. I like it just the way it is.
I am a fan of subtle. That’s why when someone asks me what I find sexy, the first things that spring to my mind are not cock, ass, lips… it’s the little things, that add up to be big things for me. Like the hands. And that hair ….
Men are visual creatures. That’s not news. But it might interest those visual creatures to know that women can be that way, too. It’s just different things we want to look at *grin
Virtually Sex (Part One)
In the massive questionnaire, there were a couple questions about phone sex and cyber sex. I answered them there, but the idea of writing more about the topic of virtual sex has been kind of lingering at the back of my mind. I don’t have a plan here, about what to write about, but I’m going to just kind of let my mind do its thing.
Because honestly, it’s that the reason we’re *all here?
I got my first computer in the early 90’s. Shortly thereafter I installed AOL 1.0, and got connected. At first, it was a networking tool for my feminist projects, and a place to debate (Anyone from the old AOL Days remember “the Newsroom”?). I bet I’d been online a good six months before I realized that there were user created channels. Names like “Dark Parking Garage” and “Lonely Housewife” (I never went in there, but it certainly fit my life at the time). I went into one here or there, on the many nights when my first husband was out with his drinking buddies and such. I’d go in, giggle at the instant messages I’d get and the offers for ‘hot cyber’, then go back to doing something else. For awhile, anyway.
Eventually, my marriage got to be bad enough that I started considering trying out this ‘cyber’ thing that people kept asking me about. One night I got brave enough to actually say yes to one of the horny net guys asking me to ‘play’.
I remember that first foray into the cyber sex world. It was awful. I giggled my way through it, and logged out, swearing I’d never do it again. And I didn’t. For awhile anyway.
One evening I was looking through the list of user created rooms and found one named “Le Chateau”. Having recently read ‘The Story of O’ (picked up at a porn store that I went to with my first husband in an attempt to put some spark into our relationship), I found the name intriguing and I double clicked it, just to see ….
… and found a home.
I made friendships in the Chateau rooms (there were 3-4 at any given time) that I continue with today. I met M in one. I met C in one. I met a couple of ‘one weekend stands’ in them as well. And some very good people that I still communicate with now, and hold very dear.
Cyber was different in the Chateau rooms, but it was still very present and accounted for. There were just very heavy d/s overtones to it. And you know how I feel about that ….
After C and then M, I kinda walked away from the whole cyber thing. I hadn’t had a very good track record with using it as a way to meet people (well, duh!) so I just kinda stayed away from it.
Then I started gaming.
And ran into a couple of men who sparked that interest in me again. I certainly didn’t go looking for it, but it landed in my lap. Three of them. One turned out to be the jackass of the century. One disappeared. And one turned into a good friend.
When people ask the question “What do you get out of cyber, anyway?”, it’s a hard question to answer. Different people bring different things to the table. I’ve been inspired to fiction. I’ve been inspired to blog. I’ve been inspired to pull the vibrator out of my desk drawer *grin. It depends on each situation what you get out of it. And what you put into it counts, too.
But I think the most important thing for me, besides sexual gratification is that cyber fuels my imagination. And for me, that’s so much more than sexual. That’s life and breath.
Boring is for someone else. I need to be engaged in whatever I’m doing – sexually or otherwise. If what I’m talking about with anyone doesn’t put vivid images in my head and make me “write ahead” about what it’s making me feel, then it’s not going to keep me mentally occupied. I’ll drift. That’s why I do the work that I do (problem solving, creatively), that’s why I write, that’s why I make soap, that’s why I love to bake, that’s why I love sex. Creativity takes the activity to the next level.
I’ve had bad, unimaginative cyber and I’ve gotten away from it quickly. And I have had incredibly creative cyber that’s kept me engaged and made me want to write, to continue, to build the images into something that I can keep with me, like a piece of fiction or an essay like these.
I want to be inspired to actually ‘play along’. I want to be inspired to *want to take the cybersex into the real world, whether I ever do or not. I want to want.
I don’t go looking for it, ever. I never have. And that’s because cyber with random strangers is neither inviting nor interesting to me. Getting to know someone outside the realm of sexual experience, getting to know who they are, what they like – talking about sex but not ‘doing it’ in the real or cyber world is where I build a connection with someone that’s necessary for me to be able to enjoy myself and relax. I want to be comfortable but not so comfortable that it’s predictable. I want to learn something new about myself through them, and I want them to take someone that I like and make it their own in such a way that they like it, too. For someone to capture my attention and keep it, there really needs to be some common ground upon which I can start to build that palette I need to open to being inspired. Chances are if someone tries that in the first two or three conversations I have with them, I will walk away from them. Because it’s not going to give me what I want and need.
I wrote a few years ago about my search for a new muse. And this is what I was talking about. Someone who can inspire me to dream in sex without sleeping. Someone who looks at things differently than I do, and can let me see through their eyes. I want to take someone else’s wants and try them on for size. Cyber allows me to do that safely. Cyber allows me to walk a different path than I might feel comfortable walking in my well worn boots.
And besides all of that, cyber with someone who has a good vocabulary, a willingness to experiment and a fantastic sense of their own sexuality is just fucking fun.
Because honestly, it’s that the reason we’re *all here?
I got my first computer in the early 90’s. Shortly thereafter I installed AOL 1.0, and got connected. At first, it was a networking tool for my feminist projects, and a place to debate (Anyone from the old AOL Days remember “the Newsroom”?). I bet I’d been online a good six months before I realized that there were user created channels. Names like “Dark Parking Garage” and “Lonely Housewife” (I never went in there, but it certainly fit my life at the time). I went into one here or there, on the many nights when my first husband was out with his drinking buddies and such. I’d go in, giggle at the instant messages I’d get and the offers for ‘hot cyber’, then go back to doing something else. For awhile, anyway.
Eventually, my marriage got to be bad enough that I started considering trying out this ‘cyber’ thing that people kept asking me about. One night I got brave enough to actually say yes to one of the horny net guys asking me to ‘play’.
I remember that first foray into the cyber sex world. It was awful. I giggled my way through it, and logged out, swearing I’d never do it again. And I didn’t. For awhile anyway.
One evening I was looking through the list of user created rooms and found one named “Le Chateau”. Having recently read ‘The Story of O’ (picked up at a porn store that I went to with my first husband in an attempt to put some spark into our relationship), I found the name intriguing and I double clicked it, just to see ….
… and found a home.
I made friendships in the Chateau rooms (there were 3-4 at any given time) that I continue with today. I met M in one. I met C in one. I met a couple of ‘one weekend stands’ in them as well. And some very good people that I still communicate with now, and hold very dear.
Cyber was different in the Chateau rooms, but it was still very present and accounted for. There were just very heavy d/s overtones to it. And you know how I feel about that ….
After C and then M, I kinda walked away from the whole cyber thing. I hadn’t had a very good track record with using it as a way to meet people (well, duh!) so I just kinda stayed away from it.
Then I started gaming.
And ran into a couple of men who sparked that interest in me again. I certainly didn’t go looking for it, but it landed in my lap. Three of them. One turned out to be the jackass of the century. One disappeared. And one turned into a good friend.
When people ask the question “What do you get out of cyber, anyway?”, it’s a hard question to answer. Different people bring different things to the table. I’ve been inspired to fiction. I’ve been inspired to blog. I’ve been inspired to pull the vibrator out of my desk drawer *grin. It depends on each situation what you get out of it. And what you put into it counts, too.
But I think the most important thing for me, besides sexual gratification is that cyber fuels my imagination. And for me, that’s so much more than sexual. That’s life and breath.
Boring is for someone else. I need to be engaged in whatever I’m doing – sexually or otherwise. If what I’m talking about with anyone doesn’t put vivid images in my head and make me “write ahead” about what it’s making me feel, then it’s not going to keep me mentally occupied. I’ll drift. That’s why I do the work that I do (problem solving, creatively), that’s why I write, that’s why I make soap, that’s why I love to bake, that’s why I love sex. Creativity takes the activity to the next level.
I’ve had bad, unimaginative cyber and I’ve gotten away from it quickly. And I have had incredibly creative cyber that’s kept me engaged and made me want to write, to continue, to build the images into something that I can keep with me, like a piece of fiction or an essay like these.
I want to be inspired to actually ‘play along’. I want to be inspired to *want to take the cybersex into the real world, whether I ever do or not. I want to want.
I don’t go looking for it, ever. I never have. And that’s because cyber with random strangers is neither inviting nor interesting to me. Getting to know someone outside the realm of sexual experience, getting to know who they are, what they like – talking about sex but not ‘doing it’ in the real or cyber world is where I build a connection with someone that’s necessary for me to be able to enjoy myself and relax. I want to be comfortable but not so comfortable that it’s predictable. I want to learn something new about myself through them, and I want them to take someone that I like and make it their own in such a way that they like it, too. For someone to capture my attention and keep it, there really needs to be some common ground upon which I can start to build that palette I need to open to being inspired. Chances are if someone tries that in the first two or three conversations I have with them, I will walk away from them. Because it’s not going to give me what I want and need.
I wrote a few years ago about my search for a new muse. And this is what I was talking about. Someone who can inspire me to dream in sex without sleeping. Someone who looks at things differently than I do, and can let me see through their eyes. I want to take someone else’s wants and try them on for size. Cyber allows me to do that safely. Cyber allows me to walk a different path than I might feel comfortable walking in my well worn boots.
And besides all of that, cyber with someone who has a good vocabulary, a willingness to experiment and a fantastic sense of their own sexuality is just fucking fun.
Play the Hand You're Dealt
“I love a hand that meets my own with a grasp that causes some sensation.” Samuel Osgood
I mentioned awhile back that I have nice hands. And I think I do. I have long skinny piano-player fingers (too bad I never used them to their potential), and I usually keep my nails done. I do not have small hands, but they’re very feminine. I love them.
I have always worn rings, but the weight loss has proved to be a challenge with that because while I used to have 8 on all the time, and some spares, I am down to 4 that I can wear daily and one of those is really too big and I’m afraid I’m going to lose it one of these days. I need to replace them eventually. My rings are all silver. I don’t wear gold. Most have a Celtic detail and most have a gemstone of some sort (currently I have onyx and amethyst). I love them. They are pretty much all the jewelry I wear.
I’m a little double jointed. I can bend my fingers backward to a 45-degree angle. I used to freak my stepdaughters out with that and it was fun. I’ve been told that at the moment of orgasm sometimes they bend back even further than that. I wouldn’t know. I’m not looking at my hands usually at that time *grin
But it’s not just my hands that I like. I like hands in general. Hands are almost the first thing I glance at when I’m looking at a man. The only one of my past lovers that did not have good, strong big hands was C. His hands were actually smaller than mine, and it had absolutely nothing to do with my weight. Maybe that should have been my first clue, hm? *laugh
So why the fascination with hands? It could be any number of things. Strong male hands show masculinity (which I love). Hands can hold. Hands can spank. Hands have fingers that can bury themselves into parts of me and make me weak. Hands can hold me down. Hands can pull my hair. Hands can pinch, tickle, stroke.
Need I go on? Of course it’s sexual. How could it have been anything else?
Clean, short nails are important, because if he does not have them, I know those hands are not going anywhere near any part of me that I want them to go. They don’t have to be soft. They don’t have to be overly big. But they do have to be strong and clean.
I think maybe it’s sexual potential I see in them. There is, of course, the old myth about a man’s cock being as long as the tip of his middle finger to the top of his wrist but I don’t buy that. It’s the hands themselves that clue me in to what I’m about to experience. Even if I’m not going to fuck him I am looking at his hands, just to see.
It’s probably the closest thing I have to a body part preference, besides height.
If I can imagine his hands on me, I can imagine everything else. And there’s where sex starts with me. In my imagination. But more on that later. *grin
I mentioned awhile back that I have nice hands. And I think I do. I have long skinny piano-player fingers (too bad I never used them to their potential), and I usually keep my nails done. I do not have small hands, but they’re very feminine. I love them.
I have always worn rings, but the weight loss has proved to be a challenge with that because while I used to have 8 on all the time, and some spares, I am down to 4 that I can wear daily and one of those is really too big and I’m afraid I’m going to lose it one of these days. I need to replace them eventually. My rings are all silver. I don’t wear gold. Most have a Celtic detail and most have a gemstone of some sort (currently I have onyx and amethyst). I love them. They are pretty much all the jewelry I wear.
I’m a little double jointed. I can bend my fingers backward to a 45-degree angle. I used to freak my stepdaughters out with that and it was fun. I’ve been told that at the moment of orgasm sometimes they bend back even further than that. I wouldn’t know. I’m not looking at my hands usually at that time *grin
But it’s not just my hands that I like. I like hands in general. Hands are almost the first thing I glance at when I’m looking at a man. The only one of my past lovers that did not have good, strong big hands was C. His hands were actually smaller than mine, and it had absolutely nothing to do with my weight. Maybe that should have been my first clue, hm? *laugh
So why the fascination with hands? It could be any number of things. Strong male hands show masculinity (which I love). Hands can hold. Hands can spank. Hands have fingers that can bury themselves into parts of me and make me weak. Hands can hold me down. Hands can pull my hair. Hands can pinch, tickle, stroke.
Need I go on? Of course it’s sexual. How could it have been anything else?
Clean, short nails are important, because if he does not have them, I know those hands are not going anywhere near any part of me that I want them to go. They don’t have to be soft. They don’t have to be overly big. But they do have to be strong and clean.
I think maybe it’s sexual potential I see in them. There is, of course, the old myth about a man’s cock being as long as the tip of his middle finger to the top of his wrist but I don’t buy that. It’s the hands themselves that clue me in to what I’m about to experience. Even if I’m not going to fuck him I am looking at his hands, just to see.
It’s probably the closest thing I have to a body part preference, besides height.
If I can imagine his hands on me, I can imagine everything else. And there’s where sex starts with me. In my imagination. But more on that later. *grin
Sweet, but with a kick
I wrote a piece of fiction tonight. My first in quite some time. I needed to do it. I mean, seriously needed to.
Here's a taste:
The table is quiet for a little while. Your cock stays hard and you’re sure her pussy stays wet while you eat in silence. The waitress drops back by and leaves the check. She reaches for it, but you pull it away from her. "You’ve provided the entertainment so far. I’ll pay for dinner. But."
"But?"
"But you’re not done yet."
"I’m not?" She pushes her plate away and leans back in the booth. She reaches her hand up as if to brush hair from her neck and slickly undoes a button on her blouse. "What else did you have in mind?"
"Surprise me."
Running her index finger across her lips again, she thinks for a moment. The grin lights up her eyes before her lips even begin to turn upward. "I think I need a drink."
"You do?"
"I do." She turns to reach into her purse for her wallet, and then slides slowly out of the booth. Without looking at you again, she walks away from you, and toward the bar.
You watch her move. She walks around to the far side of the bar, so that when she gets the bartender’s attention, she’s facing you. Somewhere along her journey over there, she’s undone another button on her blouse and she leans over the bar, much further than necessary to order her drink. You can’t see the bartender’s face, but you’re without doubt that he isn’t looking into her eyes at that moment. She’s flirting with him.
The bartender turns away from her to make her beverage of choice and looking directly at you, she casually flicks yet another button of the blouse open, and slides her hand inside the white bra beneath it. Her fingers disappear far enough inside to have pinched her nipple, and by the look on her face, you know that she has. By the time the bartender tuns back toward her, her fingers are nearly out, and she runs them up to her neck and runs the tips of her fingers across her collarbone. He sets the drink in front of her and she slides a bill across the bar at him and waves her hand, so that he knows the change is a tip. She says something and he laughs. She picks up her drink and smiles at him, and then heads back toward your table.
She slides back into the booth and lays her wallet on the table. She offers you a taste of her drink, and you take the glass from her, sipping from the side. It’s sweet, but it has a kick to it.
Kind of like she does.
Here's a taste:
The table is quiet for a little while. Your cock stays hard and you’re sure her pussy stays wet while you eat in silence. The waitress drops back by and leaves the check. She reaches for it, but you pull it away from her. "You’ve provided the entertainment so far. I’ll pay for dinner. But."
"But?"
"But you’re not done yet."
"I’m not?" She pushes her plate away and leans back in the booth. She reaches her hand up as if to brush hair from her neck and slickly undoes a button on her blouse. "What else did you have in mind?"
"Surprise me."
Running her index finger across her lips again, she thinks for a moment. The grin lights up her eyes before her lips even begin to turn upward. "I think I need a drink."
"You do?"
"I do." She turns to reach into her purse for her wallet, and then slides slowly out of the booth. Without looking at you again, she walks away from you, and toward the bar.
You watch her move. She walks around to the far side of the bar, so that when she gets the bartender’s attention, she’s facing you. Somewhere along her journey over there, she’s undone another button on her blouse and she leans over the bar, much further than necessary to order her drink. You can’t see the bartender’s face, but you’re without doubt that he isn’t looking into her eyes at that moment. She’s flirting with him.
The bartender turns away from her to make her beverage of choice and looking directly at you, she casually flicks yet another button of the blouse open, and slides her hand inside the white bra beneath it. Her fingers disappear far enough inside to have pinched her nipple, and by the look on her face, you know that she has. By the time the bartender tuns back toward her, her fingers are nearly out, and she runs them up to her neck and runs the tips of her fingers across her collarbone. He sets the drink in front of her and she slides a bill across the bar at him and waves her hand, so that he knows the change is a tip. She says something and he laughs. She picks up her drink and smiles at him, and then heads back toward your table.
She slides back into the booth and lays her wallet on the table. She offers you a taste of her drink, and you take the glass from her, sipping from the side. It’s sweet, but it has a kick to it.
Kind of like she does.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Volume
Isn’t it fun to discover things you never gave much thought to are really hot to some people?
A friend of mine, who is famous for sending me weird links on IM, sent me one today for a new sort of drug. Now, this isn’t like a vitamin or Xanax or diet pills. No, this drug serves a very specific purpose And it’s not a purpose I ever gave much thought to…but now that you mention it …
There is apparently a fetish for semen volume, and a new drug to help you produce it.
Occasionally, even Jill gets surprised.
That’s not to say that I don’t get it, or that I can’t see why someone would enjoy either shooting more, or wanting to have their partner gush. It’s just not something I really ever gave that much thought to. Until recently, I didn’t really have a lot of experience with what I would consider to be copious amounts of cum. Again, it’s not like something I ever measured or anything but it definitely makes a difference when it’s not IN you, but ON you.
One of my best friends has a ‘facial’ fetish. He’s got loads (pardon the pun) of pictures with women’s facing dripping with cum. I have a submissive friend who enjoyed being the center of a group of men jacking off. I had a friend in California whose boyfriend rarely came anywhere but her mouth even if they’d been fucking. I, myself, have enjoyed a few instances of being jacked off on – used as a repository for my lover’s semen, and I have never shied away from swallowing.
So I don’t know why I’m surprised that volume is turn on for some people, either letting on fly, or being with someone who lets one fly *smirk
There is something visceral and animalistic about sharing the outcome (sorry, another pun, I can’t help it) of the sexual experience. I’ve always enjoyed that. I just never thought about it in volume *grin.
Maybe size does matter ……
A friend of mine, who is famous for sending me weird links on IM, sent me one today for a new sort of drug. Now, this isn’t like a vitamin or Xanax or diet pills. No, this drug serves a very specific purpose And it’s not a purpose I ever gave much thought to…but now that you mention it …
There is apparently a fetish for semen volume, and a new drug to help you produce it.
Occasionally, even Jill gets surprised.
That’s not to say that I don’t get it, or that I can’t see why someone would enjoy either shooting more, or wanting to have their partner gush. It’s just not something I really ever gave that much thought to. Until recently, I didn’t really have a lot of experience with what I would consider to be copious amounts of cum. Again, it’s not like something I ever measured or anything but it definitely makes a difference when it’s not IN you, but ON you.
One of my best friends has a ‘facial’ fetish. He’s got loads (pardon the pun) of pictures with women’s facing dripping with cum. I have a submissive friend who enjoyed being the center of a group of men jacking off. I had a friend in California whose boyfriend rarely came anywhere but her mouth even if they’d been fucking. I, myself, have enjoyed a few instances of being jacked off on – used as a repository for my lover’s semen, and I have never shied away from swallowing.
So I don’t know why I’m surprised that volume is turn on for some people, either letting on fly, or being with someone who lets one fly *smirk
There is something visceral and animalistic about sharing the outcome (sorry, another pun, I can’t help it) of the sexual experience. I’ve always enjoyed that. I just never thought about it in volume *grin.
Maybe size does matter ……
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