I want to write. Really I do. I wake up with whole passages in my head. I have entire posts written in the middle of the night. But then the day starts and I end up with barely enough energy to do the needful: work, be present for my partners, friends and family, do the things that need to be done to facilitate our move, pack some boxes…live. And writing falls away into “I wish I had more time.” And yet I resist dragging myself out of bed any earlier than absolutely necessary. I really, really relish and appreciate that extra half hour after the alarm has gone off, and I’ve muddled through my dreams in my dream journal, I’ve sent morning greeting texts off and I am snuggled down in the comforter with the dog lodged behind my knees, holding my pee until I can’t bear it another moment. I don’t want to give that up.
My nesting partner leaves before dawn, kissing me goodbye and leaving the hall light on at my request, because the basement rooms we sleep in here let in so little light that if he didn’t, I’d never rouse. My alarm goes off half an hour later. If I could just rouse myself enough when he leaves, not to do anything crazy like exercise, but so that I arrived at my desk a half hour earlier, I could, theoretically, have time to write. It’s just so so hard to make myself move any earlier.
And finally, they are done, all twelve tasks. I had to refer to the list frequently as I get quite silly when I’m getting whacked on. All in all it was a fun project for everyone involved. M says there are a lot of holidays still on the calendar that he needs to research. Ha!
Twelve jambock swingings Eleven ass cheek canings Ten titty slappings Nine bum waggings
Eight nipple pullings Seven left bum beltings Six left thigh croppings Five pussy smacks
Four right bum whackings Three left thigh beltings Two titty twistings And a Marco Polo of my coo-oo-oo-ter.
I don’t do official sex toy reviews, mostly because I don’t feel qualified to discuss issues about product safety, etc., and if you get those things wrong, well, bad things can happen. So I leave that to the pros. But I do use sex toys, both with partners and alone, and sometimes I write about those experiences. You know, because sex and sex toys are fun. :-)
A friend of mine posted an image of her orgasm tabulation for the year (hashtags that equaled approximately 10x the number of orgasms I have had this year so far) and I felt, well, a little embarrassed by my lack. NOT the correct response, and not what she intended, I am sure. I love her sexual energy and wish, sometimes, that I could capture it, could breathe it in and let it fill me up. Instead, so often, what’s going on in my environment, and in my relationships, inhibits me from enjoying my sexuality. And there’s a lot going on in my environment that I allow to affect me adversely, both globally and personally.
Sexual energy is good energy, healthy energy. It buoys one up, even if one isn’t having intercourse, in fact it oftentimes has nothing to do with intercourse. A lot, if not most, of my sexual energy comes from interactions with my kink partner(s), and attempts by me to establish some sort of daily sexual ritual have always failed, mostly because I don’t interact with them in that way on a daily basis. There used to be a lot more of that energy, but the pandemic has tamped that down a lot, and oftentimes I don’t even think of myself as a sexual person. I am a (sometime) submissive, I am a (sometime) lover, I am a girlfriend and a life-partner, a mother, a coworker, a friend. Those roles don’t often make room for a “sexual being.”
I’d like that to change. I’d like sexual energy and joy to be as much a part of my existence as any other. I believe our society shames women who insist on exploring and celebrating our sexuality after a certain age and I want to combat that in my own life. I can’t force sexual feelings, but I can be open to giving myself opportunities to experience it, and take those opportunities when they arise. I settled down with a new sex toy the other evening after work with exactly that thought in mind.
I love the idea of having my clit sucked deeply by a machine or toy, or even, when I fantasize about having a clit-cock, by a human. I’ve played with the Womanizer, a pricey clit-sucking toy before, hoping the reality matched my fantasies, but it didn’t work out that way for me. The pressure on my clit was too pinpointed and uncomfortable. Eventually, with a lot of work trying to find the right spot, I could come, but it was an almost painful sensation. It became a toy that my kink partner used as an occasional torture device rather than one about sexual pleasure, and after a couple times, never saw the outside of my sex toy box again.
Then the other day I saw a review for this toy. It’s called the Sohimi Clitoral-Sucking Vibrator (a brand I’ve never heard of.) There were a number of things that convinced me to give it a try: it has a curved g-spot insertable with vibrations, a wider “mouth” for my clit, and it was really affordable. The big mouth on it was the real selling point. Many times I have thought, if the sucking area could just suck all of my clit in, like a wide, grasping mouth – well, that’s part of the fantasy in my head. It could work. And at that price, how could I resist?
I’m glad I didn’t resist. The first time with the toy was not great, and I was sure it was going to be another Womanizer fiasco. I did have an orgasm, but it was…strange. I built up and up, never really finding the right place but using the g-spot stim to push me to the edge…but when I got there…poof, it was over. I like a lot of clit stimulation, and it just didn’t deliver.
But then I tried it again. I didn’t want to give up without really giving it a chance. I used lube this time, unlike before, and rather than just focusing on the sensations, I let myself drift into fantasy, imagining I was strapped down to a table and this sucking machine was being strapped to me, forced upon me. Suddenly it was a wide-mouthed sucking machine, and I was helpless against it. I spread my labia wide and experimented with the various speeds, and, since the body of the toy is somewhat pliable, I was able to maneuver it against my g-spot better, rocking it in micro-pulses so the suction actually pulled on my clit while the vibrator stroked my g-spot. And that did it! It wasn’t a screaming orgasm, and it was far more pin-pointed and focused that other orgasms, but it was pleasurable, and I liked that I took the time to coax it out of my body. That it wasn’t the slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am of my Hitachi.
Okay, had to take a break to give it another go, after writing about it turned me on.
Yep! It worked, just like before. It takes a lot more patience than I usually have when I want to orgasm. And it doesn’t have the power of my Baldy (Hitachi) orgasms. But it was a fun way to re-introduce myself to my own sexuality here in the new year, a fun way to play, and a nice bit of self-care here on a morning when I needed it.
And now, I’m off to yoga and maybe run, because it’s my day for it, and -even if I resist doing it – I always feel better after. Oh, and then packing and grocery shopping and I had had vague plans to hike this afternoon, but the cold weather is impacting that decision, so we’ll see.
Oh, and guess what? I finally finished the 12 Tasks of Christmas! I’ll write a post about it soon.
“Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365-page book. Write a good one.” ~ Brad Paisley
The quote above is the writing prompt from Little Switch Bitch called Quote Quest. In my desire to write more, I started scanning the usual places, Twitter and the bloggers I know, to find new ideas, new prompts, etc., and this is one of those.
The prompt, the quote, fits in perfectly with my resolution this year to Show Up for Myself. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, and a big part of showing up to me means moving forward in ways that are good now. I can’t erase the past, but I can acknowledge the past and own the mistakes I made, without letting those mistakes be all of me. There’s a me that wakes up every day with a blank page, and I can write good things on that page. I can write good things here, and in my every day actions.
Showing up for myself means being the best that I can be, for myself, for my family and lovers and friends. Sometimes being the best for myself means having to say “no” to others, but it also means saying “yes” sometimes when anxiety or fear make me want to say no.
Sometimes showing up means showing up here, in these pages, and writing steamy, sexy pieces, because that’s part of me. Sometimes it means writing about my heartbreak over losing someone, or losing part of myself as I grow older. These are all pieces of me, and writing about them here is important to me in ways that others might not understand, but that’s okay.
Something Molly said in her piece on the topic struck me deeply, “I have missed writing. Missed just sitting at my desk and letting whatever is burning a hole in my brain out onto the screen. 2020 has a lot to answer for that is for sure. But I am determined to reconnect with my writing because it helps me to think and breathe and understand and often turns me the fuck on too. It is also a really powerful way to communicate my desires to my partners. I want more of that.”
So yeah, this is the first page of my own 365 page book. And I am writing it.
Yesterday my partner’s father was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. He’s quite elderly, and has been in declining health – both mental and physical – for quite some time, so this didn’t come as a big shock to the family, but it’s still hard to bear. My partner and I lived with him for about eight years during/after another bout of a different kind of cancer, and so I know him well and was quite close to him for awhile. I haven’t been to see him since he moved into assisted living late in 2019, and now, likely won’t see him at all before the end. He’s in the hospital, which is allowing one visitor per day (each of his children are spending a day with him) but when he gets back to the nursing home, they won’t be allowed entry again, due to Covid, unless some special arrangements can be made. We don’t know yet what kind of timeframe/prognosis there is, except, well, stage 4.
With that in mind, I did do my yoga practice this AM. I needed to breathe. And here I am doing my writing practice. Later, I am going to run the treadmill. But the sexy stuff? Tasks 11 & 12? Not so much. They will happen…life does go on. Just not right now.
…on my first day of January Jumpstart and on the 11th Task of Christmas. Circumstances interfered with those two things happening – funny, in the 12 card tarot spread (1 card for each month of the coming year) that my beloved friend Ruby did for me only two nights ago, The Eight of Swords was my card for January. The high-level name in the Thoth system for this card is “Interference,” though it refers to interference we cause ourselves rather than anything outside – and is a typical situation for me. I frequently seem to be getting in the way of myself.
In an overall situation we are having a hard time over which is the best option for us to take at the moment. The swords are all different and so are the things which are getting in the way of our next course of action.
We could be having ‘analysis paralysis’ or over thinking things with lots of things going through our mind our will power to move forward becomes scattered on endless unproductive thoughts..
A solution to this would be to take time out and do something different. Get a distance from the situation as the energy you are putting into it is just perpetuating the indecision. So the optimism of Jupiter should shine through once we leave things alone for a while and let them settle in their own way. Have some fun and come back to this in a refreshed light.
We may be wasting our attention on small things (the knives) which are not important.
I will say that I did show up for yoga yesterday morning and then (miraculously) for running last night right after work. I was feeling good, in spite of not having slept past 4:30 the night before.
Hopefully I will have the energy and time to post about Tasks 11 and 12 tonight – I am sure my Canadian Sir would like that!
I actually did tasks 5 & 6 on time, and meant to post them here right away, but time got away from me (or I was just too lazy) and so I didn’t…and then New Year’s Eve we let it go until too late and didn’t have the energy to do 7, and I had a migraine New Year’s Day, so that scuttled the doing of 8 on time…and so there we were last night, with 7, 8 & 9 to do all at once and me having to post all of them at once.
It was actually fun doing so many at once though, because it was more extended impact/pain play, and I’ve been missing that since my Canadian Sir went back to Canada and I came back home. Now that my regular kink partner is back from vacation I anticipate more play time, but that that may or may not happen. We’ll see. In any case, getting all the 1-9 whacks 3x at once was fun!
I don’t think I’ve mentioned that I am doing all these on Marco Polo, a video sharing platform, so I can share all the goodness with M, sometimes in real time. This is a still from the Fifth Task of Christmas…
“On the Fifth Day of Christmas my beauty sent to me – Five pussy slaps…”
I don’t have pictures for each of days 6-9, but here’s what they were, and here’s a pic of the result of that on my thighs.
“On the Ninth Day of Christmas my beauty sent to me – Nine bum cheek waggings… Eight nipple pullings… Seven left bum beltings… Six left thigh croppings…”
Now let’s see if I can finish out the rest of the twelve days with a bang and do them all on the right days. ;-)
As the New Year starts I am also trying to add some other discipline to my life. I’m attempting the January Jumpstart 2021 writing challenge (so expect to see lots more writing here,) continuing my 5k Run/Walk program (doing a walk/run at least 3x/week) and participating in Breath, a 30 Day Yoga Journey.
I started running back in November, when I spent a month in Myrtle Beach with M, and although I had some weeks when I wasn’t able to get out because of weather, I gifted myself a treadmill for Christmas and I have been on it consistently since. I started the yoga practice yesterday, and I’ll be honest, the first day was challenging already! But that’s to be expected, I haven’t moved my body that way in a LONG time. Too long. That’s why I am there. I am also there to honor my body though, and to learn appreciation for it again. I’ve wrestled with hating my body/my self during the past year, and I want to move beyond that. I can only do that by doing it. It’s also about discipline, about commitment, about showing up for myself. All three practices are. I want this year to be the year I Show Up for Myself.
“On the Third Day of Christmas my beauty sent to me – three right thigh beltings…”
I didn’t have a leather belt handy, so I used this plastic one, with “Scrabble” images all over it, which made me giggle. The giggles stopped as soon as the belt came down though – it was sharp and deliciously painful! It’s hard to tell how hard those “beltings” were – this red mark bloomed much brighter after about 5 minutes, but by then A was massaging the spot and pressing his hard-on against me, and moments later he had me bent over the massage table, where we’d set this up, and was fucking me from behind – so pictures were kind of out of the question.
He’s been “assisting” me in my tasks, and seemingly thoroughly enjoying doing them, as they have resulted in us having sex twice in the past week. That’s 200% more sex than we’d had in the entire 9 months before, even though we’d sheltered-in-place together when the pandemic broke out. I’d begun to wonder if we had passed beyond that phase of our relationship – and whether I was sad about it or not. I’m still not sure, to be honest. Even though he’s “doing the things” to me, it doesn’t get me fired up in a specifically sexual way because we don’t have a D/s connection, and that’s a huge part of it for me. It was just playful fun. We had sex after because he wanted it – which made me happy that what we were doing was turning him on – but I think I’d have been just as happy not having sex at all. BDSM isn’t always sexual, and doesn’t have to be. And it wasn’t a driving desire in me to have him at that moment – I was mostly happy and silly with endorphins. But it turned out well, the sex was good, we both had orgasms and it was nice to be in that space again with him. I wonder if I can just get out of my head, if I can just be present in the moment rather than *thinking* about it while we’re doing it, if that will make it better.
So there’s that to think about.
But it’s a lot of fun, having him play along, having him whack at me, and in some weird way it feels like it’s bringing us closer -in spite of my ambiguous feelings about the sex. We had three days together when we were both off, and I really enjoyed my time with him. We went and did a walk-through at the house again, played musical cars when his broke down, went to a local park so he could rollerblade with my daughter and her roommate and I could run, had lunch out and dinners in with my kids. We cooked together and binged a new Netflix obsession and laughed and talked. So maybe things will all work out.
“On the Fourth Day of Christmas my beauty sent to me – four right bum whackings…”
I chose the spatula for my four, and what a fine lovely “thwack!” it made.
The “Twelve Days of Christmas” start on Dec. 25, and if you look at the last entries in this blog, before I shuttered it to move on to my other blog, you’ll see that I had done a “Twelve Days of Kinkmas” in conjunction with Molly on her blog, Molly’s Daily Kiss. Yeah that was way back in 2012! I’d done a lot of Xmas, Christmas, Kinky Advent, and etc., type posts in subsequent years, on my other blogs, but unfortunately they aren’t accessible. And since my primary kink partner isn’t wired to be creative that way, I kinda thought my days of kinkifying the holiday season were over.
Enter the Canadian into my life. He likes games as much as W, and because we are long-distance, they are often a way we stay connected. “Each day of the Twelve Days of Christmas,” he said, “I’m going to send you one task to complete for me.” Then I would report back to him, via text, images, Marco Polo, what have you. I decided to post them here too. Just for fun, to get back into the swing of blogging again. And because I know it will please my Canadian Sir. :-)
But first, there was a Christmas Beating, via a most unexpected source. I was playing cribbage with A, and losing pretty badly. Now I’m not normally a sore loser, but I am pretty competitive, and I was kind pouty. “I’ll make it better for you,” he said. “If I beat you, I’ll beat you.” It’s been a long time since he’s offered any kind of bdsm play. In fact I can’t recall the last time he offered and then actually did it. “When?” I asked, a little dubiously (but with a lot of excitement.) “Right now,” he said. Well, I wasn’t going to try to lose, but when he won a few minutes later, it made the loss much easier to bear! I followed him downstairs and I got my butt (and my thighs) whacked! Happy Christmas to me!
Then it was on to The First Task of Christmas:
“On the first day of Christmas my beauty sent to me, a Polo of her cootie.” I can’t post a Marco Polo video here, but I sent it to him. (It should be noted that once upon a time I mentioned a girlfriend that I play with “kicking my cooter” during play. Apparently, for the sake of the song, it’s been renamed a “cootie.” You know, in case you’re wondering what a “cootie” is!)
And now, it’s Task Two of the Twelve Tasks of Christmas:
“On the second day of Christmas my beauty sent to me, two titties twisted… and a Polo of her cootie.”
So there you have it, Tasks 1 & 2 of the Twelve Tasks of Christmas! What will future days bring?
I’m back home after 7 weeks away, trying to muddle through sleeping unaided, to transition from sleeping alone to sleeping with another human and a dog again, and I’m doing a shit job. After a ten hour drive I crashed early and slept until 10 p.m., and I’ve been awake and in some discomfort from sleeplessness, anxiety and a pulled something in my upper thigh from lifting suitcases (I assume) off-and-on since then (it’s 3:30 a.m. now.) And A has to be up at 4:30 to get ready for work because he’s on 11 hour days for the holiday season so I’m trying not to disturb him…thank god he’s a heavy sleeper.
I feel like some kind of explanation of who and where I am now is in order. There’s been a lot of years, a lot of life, between the “then” of this space before and the “now.” Writing here now – reclaiming this space – feels weird. Uncomfortable in a way, but also comfortably familiar; a dichotomy.
I left here to go to my own, non-Wordpress-hosted blog years ago. Two blogs and an unethical domain host later, another blog started and stopped and a semi-withdrawal from the blogging and social media world after some relationship upheaval and some poor decisions on my part later, and here I am, back where I started. It’s been a long and windy road, to quote someone else.
And here I am, back to writing about my life, my loves, sex and kink and everything in-between. I lost the love of my life, the first subject of this blog. I remain the partner of one who was left behind with me, A, my stalwart, lionhearted lover and companion. Eventually I gained a new partner in kink, though I do not know if I will mention him here, except in passing, as his presence in these and other pages has always been a precursor to my disappearance from blogging again. I have another kink partner, M, my long-distance snowbird, who you will no doubt read about as he does not object to being a character in these pages. And there is always the potential for others, because, in my heart of hearts, I know I seek to find what I had before. Can it be had? I don’t know. But I won’t stop living while I am looking.
It’s been more than 10 years since the previous entries here were written. I am a different woman than I was then. My circumstances so very different. My life was so much bigger and richer and fuller then. I had an entire world to live in, and the expansive love of my two men to bask in. Kink was what we did and who we were; love was also what we did and who we were. The world was ours to mold into exactly the shape we wanted it.
And then W died, and my world crashed down, constricted, became so small I think I lost it for awhile, my world. I think Ad worried he lost me too, as well as W. But I struggled up out of that. And then the next kink relationship I chose narrowed that world down in some ways, squashed the light I had inside me even as it lifted me up out of the dark. I have struggled to find that light again, to find me again. I am surfacing now, finding myself, and part of that self is in the pages of whatever blog I choose to write. As I said, however, this blog won’t be about that relationship, about him, even though he continues to be a large part of my life. I hope to fill this space with musings of my own on the nature of love and sex and kink, not necessarily with, “I did this and that.” But, who knows, that’s the kind of writing I know and prefer, so that may have a place here.