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Mind and body

A two pin plug and socket. The word body at the top and the word mind beneath

During the course of this relationship I and we have had some amazing times. It is definitely the case that I have had more sex during the past 5 years than I had during the previous 30. But we have had some lean periods during that time, when my, his or our mind and body don’t work together. Sometimes the body is willing and able but for emotional or psychological reasons sex doesn’t happen. More frequently though, the problem has been physical.

Emotional and psychological health

We are in the fortunate position that we live together and neither of us are working. This wasn’t always the case and certainly until last summer tiredness was a major factor for me. I had spent a couple of years juggling a demanding job, preparing to move and care for my widowed mum. On top of that were the not to be underestimated effects of the menopause. Feeling exhausted doesn’t necessarily mean sleep comes easily and even if you fall asleep hot flashes and night sweats make you wake again. Additionally, anxiety about the end of my marriage and decisions about the house often caused me to lie awake at night.

Master tends not to be troubled by an inability to sleep. Though from time to time he struggles to get enough sleep, he certainly needs far more of it than me.

Tiredness has interfered with my sexual appetite and for a long time I felt I could take or leave sex. Luckily, Master often wanted to take it and has some ingenious ways of getting me in the mood. Being his slave means that I rarely say no to him, even if I don’t feel much like it. Not because I can’t refuse him, but because I have made a commitment with him which I want to honour. In the past I might have said no and turned over. But now I wait to see how my body responds first. Often, I start to become aroused even if my brain is saying no and when that happens, who am I to deny my body?

Physical health

There is no doubt that physical health problems have got in the way of our ability to enjoy an active sex and kinky life. The first issue we encountered was Master’s frozen shoulder. This made it difficult for him to find a comfortable position on top of me . It also made impact play painful for him. We had to adapt our favoured positions, which led to the purchase of the swing. But really it wasn’t until he recovered that things returned to normal.

A physical effect of the menopause was pain during PIV sex. Luckily this didn’t coincide with the frozen shoulder, when I was often on top. There were times when my vagina would go into spasm as soon as his cock came anywhere near me. This caused pain and a lot of upset. I am so luck that Master is a patient man, who happens to love touching me with his fingers and mouth. Also of course there is plenty I can do with my mouth too. Thankfully those, I think menopause related issues have disappeared and sex is pain free.

Strangely my mastectomy and subsequent treatment have had limited effect on us. Within a couple of weeks of the operation we were able to have sex again, though he was scared of causing me pain. For me, position was an issue and I couldn’t lie on my right side of lean on my right arm. These have mostly resolved, though I still can’t lie on my right side for any length of time.

Our ability to play has probably been affected, partly because we haven’t wanted to go to events while treatment was ongoing. But also because I have been very tired over the past months. Daily trips to the hospital and lack of sunlight over the winter months have affected him too.

Ageing

We intend to grow older together and we now know some of the things we might encounter. His ability to ejaculate frequently is already something that happens. I can come many many times for his once and so we make that one time meaningful. Our bodies take time to recover from exercise and activity. We don’t always have the energy that we think we should.

But recognising the effect of mind and body over our ability to have a fulfilling sex life and relationship bode well for the future. We’ll certainly keep going in whatever way we can for as long as we can.

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Holding hands

Two people, a man and a woman holding hands.

There is something very special about holding hands with someone you love and care for. It is a way of being intimate with them, of feeling close to them but in a way that is conforms and is acceptable within social norms. What I mean is, holding a lovers hand while in the street is acceptable, while grabbing their tit isn’t. Equally we will hold the hand of a child for safety and protection as much as anything else. This topic has me thinking about the people whose hands I have held during my life.

Being a child

I distinctly remember that I wasn’t the kind of child that wanted to be cuddled or held. I am pretty sure I would have been a nightmare to keep safe when out and about. Except in those days, our parents put reins on us. This was a kind of leather harness that went around the chest, with a strap for a parent to hold. Either that or I was probably holding onto a pram or push chair since I was the eldest of 3. The middle of us was born when I was 18 months and my younger brother when I was 5. I guess I must have held hands with a parent, but don’t remember. However I do remember holding the hand of my little brother.

He and I were very close, I often liked to mother him being the big sister. He loved to hold my hand, or sit on my lap or generally be close. I guess that told me that one day hand holding would become a thing for me.

Getting a boyfriend

As a teenager, nothing informed people about the fact you had got yourself an actual boyfriend quite like being seen in public holding hands. Except being seen snogging (as we called it), that is. In the early days my ex and I held hands a lot. We also sat together on the sofa when at either parents and even when we got our own place. Holding hands when out was definitely about possession, but also closeness and intimacy. Somewhere along the way that diminished over time. We also of course acquired a child who often walked between us.

Being a mother

To begin with they grasp your finger in their hand and then later you take their little hand as they begin to take their first faltering steps. I loved it when my little boy grabbed my hand, when he needed reassurance or to feel safe. He was a different child to the one I had been, more like my brother. I was his mum though and so keeping him safe, providing care and love was my job. Sometimes of course he clung to me to stop me leaving him and I know that within minutes he was holding the hand of another adult – a carer, teacher, his dad. I can’t deny though that I loved the fact that he wanted to be with me, to hold my hand. That he would climb on my lap and settle down and then take my hand. For anyone reading this who has small children, relish those days. Because suddenly they are grown up and instead are holding the hand of another.

The last touch

During the final days of my dads life we cared for him at home. I took time off of work to be with he and my mum as well as other family members. For the last week or so, I stayed over too. I spent many hours holding his hand as he lay in bed growing weaker and weaker. I guess I held his hand more then, than I ever had as a child. But it was important to let him know that I was there even when he was unable to communicate to us verbally. Those memories stay with me and I am grateful for them.

Now

We hold hands on the sofa watching tv and we hold hands when we are at the theatre or a concert. We probably held hands while at Eroticon last weekend. Less frequently though, we hold hands when we are out. Master has the habit of seeming to be in a hurry even when he isn’t. He can’t bare people dawdling in front of us, getting in the way. So he tends to walk more quickly and then have to wait for me to catch up.

Late at night though, when there are fewer people and we are heading home from somewhere, then we will often hold hands.

I am 56 now, not 16 so I really don’t mind. It is often difficult to walk along holding hands when people around you are looking at their phones rather than the path. When there are obstacles in the way. Anyway I don’t need to be holding his hands to know that I am his, and that he is mine. These days though, I do love to hold hands.

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Con drop

Twitter is alive today with the voices of the sufferers of this rarely known condition, con drop. But it’s one that strikes every year, without fail. The weekend was full of fun, education and information. It was also very busy. Now, as people return to pick up their normal lives the after effects are being felt. For me, it’s mainly an overall feeling of weariness. So to try to fight the urge to curl up on the sofa with a book or to snooze the day away I am trying to be productive. Already I have done a bit of dusting, tidying and vacuuming. I have stripped the bed, washed the sheets and been into town for food and a birthday present for my niece who turns 21 on Thursday.

I’m getting ready for a longer and more carefully thought out post, using the notes I made over the weekend. But first I wanted to recap over all on Eroticon as an event. I have attended many conferences over the years, mostly work related. Some had huge budgets, others national politicians or field experts. I’ve sat through an after dinner speech by the father of sextuplets and visited a brewery as part of the conference. But rarely have I been to anything as well organised, friendly, inspiring and informative as Eroticon.

Maybe it’s the subject matter or the fact that most people are not there as part of their day job. Or perhaps it is because of the feeling of community, supported and encouraged by those who lead and support it.

The best things

This year, we immersed ourselves into the conference in a way we haven’t before. We were there for the whole of both days and attended both socials. I definitely spoke to more people than I ever have, and still managed to miss a few. But there’s always next time for that.

For me the people make the event and within that I include the sponsors since they are so good at joining in and being part of everything. It is easy to chat to people you already know, but this year I tried to mix in much more with those I didn’t. I only dipped out of one session and that was to chat to Kayla Lords. I was wrapped up in colourful veterinary bandages by Master and vacced by Mactire. This meant I missed the rest of the kink lab, but there will hopefully be a next time.

Molly and Michael ran a wonderfully tight ship organisation wise. Even though she wasn’t there to organise, Girl on the Net provided ‘a spare brain’ and was also a fabulous speaker. But more of that in my proper round up.

The worst thing

The realisation that we have to wait another year for Eroticon has to be the worst thing. Visiting each others blogs and chatting through twitter is fine, but getting to meet each other is on another level. To be able to hug each other, to see the smiles on each others faces is just wonderful. No wonder everyone is now suffering from con drop!

But the best thing we can do, other than try to get back to some sense of normality is to write. After all the purpose of the event is to support us and give us the tools to improve our writing and blogging skills.

So, I have started to plan and will now try to motivate my weary self into action and write.

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Vacced

I don’t even know if vacced is a proper word! But yesterday I put myself in the hands of Mactire once again, this time in the vac bed. For me it wasn’t the most fantastic thing I’ve ever done, but it was an experience. I loved that I was immobilised but didn’t really enjoy having my face encased in latex. I wouldn’t have missed this or any other Eroticon experiences though.

Sinful Sunday
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Eroticon diaries 2019 edition

In the next couple of hours we will make our way to the station for the short trip into London and the event of the year – Eroticon. What with holiday, post holiday and what not, I haven’t quite been on top of preparations this year. As I write this at 12.30pm I still have a couple of items in the tumble dryer that I am planning to take.

This is our third year and I guess that makes us old hands. But of course we will be meeting new people and learning new things, so I don’t think there will be anything old about the occasion.

Each year so far I have written my eroticon diaries and this will be no exception. I just hope I can keep up. I am a little nervous (as usual) about the meet and greet. While I am an extravert I do struggle with people I don’t know, or don’t know well. I really prefer to stick with friends etc. However last year I made a real effort and so will go into the bar tonight knowing more people. I have also engaged more fully with people online including twitter, which I hope will help.

Tomorrow will be the conference proper and I am going without really studying the programme. Instead we are going to just go with what takes our fancy in the moment. Also, experience tells me that some of the sessions will be more crowded than others and sometimes that helps decision making. Over the past year I have written much more fiction and I want to continue to develop those skills. So I will be looking for sessions that might support that objective.

As I mentioned in our virtual meet and greet we won’t be staying at the hotel where the socials are taking place, but instead at our favourite London hotel near to Kings Cross and Euston stations. This suits us as we like our ‘alone’ time and also we love it there. But we are just a short tube or longer walk away. I’m hoping this year I get to spend a bit more time with some of my favourite bloggers and that might mean hanging around the bar of the hotels where the socials are. Maybe we might even entice one or two people over to our place. Who knows.

I’ll try to keep up with these posts over the weekend, as it is great to look back at them afterwards.

Let the fun begin. Well once I’ve done the packing……….

Eroticon 2019 Attending
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Orgasms

It is over 5 years since I gave up control and ownership of my orgasms. Before that, I didn’t really know that was a thing and even if I had, I doubt I would have understood what it meant.

When I was seeing S, he made me ask permission to cum. This, I have discovered isn’t the same thing as having your orgasms owned and controlled by someone else.

Permission

From the first time I was told to ask for permission to come, I loved it. Here was a man that was actually interested in me having an orgasm. Someone who wanted to experience something of my enjoyment to feel the moment. My previous experience had been with a man who was really only interested in himself.

Permission was only needed when we were together. When we weren’t and I was getting myself off, then it wasn’t necessary. I thought little about this at the time and continued on my merry way. Just as well, since we only saw each other every 6 weeks or so.

When Master and I got together he put in place the same rule. I was to ask to come when we were together. However he would own my orgasms whether we were together or not.

Ownership

When we lived apart, Master still allowed me to orgasm when we weren’t actually together. However I was to thank him at the moment I came. I pretty much never broke this rule. Amazing really since I have broken plenty other rules over the years. This though brought with it the feeling that we were emotionally joined even when we were apart. It also stopped me making myself come for the sake of it.

When I was seeing S and before that even, I masturbated frequently. I often found the process enjoyable, but once I had reached orgasm felt it anticlimactic. A few minutes later I would feel unfulfilled and start over. Sometimes I would masturbate several times in an evening, afternoon or whatever. But at the end of it all I would be left thinking that there must be more to it than that.

For some reason, masturbating and then having to thank a person not even present seemed to work better for me. During this period, most of my masturbating took place at night. Late when I couldn’t get off to sleep, early when I had been woken by my ex walking into the house or had just been disturbed by a menopausal flush. Sometimes the effect was to send me to sleep, but other times it tended to wake me. Serial orgasms alone didn’t really work for me though, whether I thanked Master or not.

Control

There is more to orgasm control than seeking permission to cum. It is about being told to cum or being told you cannot. It is about being made to wait and being reminded that your body is actually his. This is the world I now inhabit.

I can honestly say that I have not masturbated alone since I have been living with Master. Funnily enough not even when we have been apart. For some, unknown reason I haven’t felt the need to even ask. My toys, regularly used now only come into play when we decide to do so together.

Partly I guess this could be because of the various health related events of the past few months. But more it feels that there is no need. I have the control I need and I don’t need to use a toy when he his only too willing to use his fingers or tongue. Or when a toy is required he is the one holding it. Teasing me and making me beg for my orgasm.

When I look back over the past few years the rule about orgasms hasn’t changed. But the way I experience and enjoy them has. Right at the moment though, because we have both recently suffered form viral illnesses orgasms are seriously lacking for us both.

tellmeabout
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Fit for Friday the catchup

It’s been a few weeks. February was a crazy month blogging wise. February photofest is always fun, but fitting in other posts too makes it all a bit of a challenge. I know I have the time these days, but normal life still has to be fitted in. Also February was challenging for another reason – post radiotherapy blues well and truly set in. Thankfully at the end of the month we headed off on holiday and now I am feeling fit and healthy once again (well kind of).

Diet and weight loss

February was a right off for weight loss. I put on a couple of pounds early in the month and spent the rest of the month losing and putting on the same two. Then I went on holiday and so am where I was at the end of January. Thankfully that gain was just 1.5lb, I guess if I hadn’t had those pizzas and that extra wine I would have lost weight. But where is the fun in that. I only really eat pizza on holiday anyway. It is 6 weeks till Easter and my next trip away, so I’m going to knuckle down and try to shift a few pounds.

Exercise

Thank goodness for holidays. For a whole week neither of us drove a car and apart from taxis from and back to the airport in Cape Verde we used either public transport or our legs (mostly the latter). Walking beside the sea is much more enjoyable than walking down to the shops at home. Plus exploring new places is always fun. So, not surprisingly my step count shot up and I surpassed 10k steps each day for 9 or 10 days in a row. I also swam while away and was pleasantly surprised that I have full range of movement in my right arm. Now I plan to start going to the local pool to swim each week.

Sao Vicente is quite a hilly place, as is Lisbon where we stopped over on our way. Many of the steps while away were up (and down) hill which will have helped keep the pounds off. Keeping up the walking at home is also an aim, but since we have been home the weather has been awful and I am a fair weather pleasure walker.

Health

I guess I naively thought the worst effects of radiotherapy would come at the end of treatment rather than 3 weeks later. I was wrong. The skin under my right arm shed and the area was absolutely raw. My chest area was sore but had nothing on my under arm. Thankfully the dressings supplied by the radiotherapy radiographer helped immensely and by the time we left for holiday I was healed.

The after effects of treatment also brought with them an anticlimactic feeling that I know is written about. I felt very low and lethargic. Our holiday couldn’t have come at a better time.

I was very careful to protect my skin and wore a 50 factor sun block on my chest and moisturised very regularly. I also chose clothes that covered my chest a bit more than usual. for swimming I had my new costume and also a gel prosthesis that doesn’t retain water. It’s a little lighter than the other one I have so win / win.

Since returning I have had one day where I felt exhausted. A combination of travel and lack of sun light I think. But now I’m feeling good. I have a small piece of work to keep me occupied till Easter, so can expect some income in April. I am also very much looking forward to Eroticon, which is next weekend.

Me in my new swimsuit with matching wrap.
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Eroticon 2019 Meet and Greet

Eroticon 2019 Attending

This time next week we will already be in London for Eroticon. I can’t believe that it is already almost a year since the last conference. Or that this will be our third time, we are almost old hands! Even better, this year we don’t have any diary clashes so can be there for the whole thing including the socials (if we decide to go to both).

NAME (and Twitter if you have one)

As everyone knows, I am Julie also known as MPB. Master, often known online as Diogenes or Graeme in real life will be with me. You can find me on twitter as @mpbjulie

Tell us 3 things you are most looking forward to at Eroticon 2019

  1. Seeing everyone that I have met before and also meeting people I know from our blogs and twitter for the first time.
  2. The sessions look better than ever and I am hoping to pick up new skills particularly around fiction writing and photography
  3. Being in London and staying at our favourite hotel there. Plus hopefully eating at our favourite restaurants.

We are creating a play list of songs for the Friday Night Meet and Greet. Nominate one song that you would like us to add to the play list and tell us why you picked that song.

For me: Dido, White Flag. I heard her sing on the radio this morning and am really happy that she has a new album out.

For him: Air Hostess because it’s by a Boy Band! (Going to have to look that one up).

What is your favorite item or book you’ve purchased so far this year?

For me: Our holiday to Cape Verde. We just got back on Sunday. It was the holiday we needed and was definitely money well spent.

For him: The river in the sky by Clive James.

You can have an unlimited supply of one thing for the rest of your life, what is it? Sushi? Scotch Tape?

For me: I probably shouldn’t say this because it affects my ability to lose weight, but Sauvignon Blanc.

For him: A4 plastic pockets.

What is your favourite quote from a movie?

For me: “Always let your conscience be your guide” From Pinocchio

For him: “Don’t think of me as a man…just as a means of transportation” (Mantrap)

What is your word suggestion to next years Eroticon anthology?

Pride

Complete the sentence:

I feel…

Excited about Eroticon now that it is nearly here and am so looking forward to seeing all the people who have given me so much support over the past few months.

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Parallel lives

In so many ways, the person I am now is the person I was then. I look the same, dress the same, know the same people but underneath I am different. I am living a life that runs parallel to the one I had before. But it is and I am different.

This isn’t just about cancer or about the surgery I had in October. Nor is it because I split up with my husband, started a new relationship, gave up my job and moved house to live with Master.

But those things are important, they are part of the person I now am. Just a year ago I was a busy professional who came home to an empty home most evenings. How I both loved and also hated that feeling. On one hand to close the door behind me and know that no one could or would turn up. But on the other that my life had just a hint of sadness about it. At times in the evening, I felt a little lonely. Now, I am not often alone.

I enjoy living with another person again and am happy with the person I have chosen to be with. We have a great time together, do fun and interesting things, visit great places and enjoy good times. But I do feel I have lost a little of what is me. The fierce independence I fought to have and the drive to do just as I wanted. It isn’t that I can’t have those things but I am not yet quite clear how to be the person I want to be. The cancer diagnosis has definitely changed me. I feel less sure of myself as a person, as a woman. It made me more dependent, in a good way but that also irritates.

The experience of having cancer, surgery, copious numbers of hospital appointments, radiotherapy has taken something from me. I feel I have become reliant on Master in a way that is good because it is something I needed. I know I don’t have to be the strong and silent type any longer, but that doesn’t stop me feeling insecure. Not having my own house, a job has freed me from some of the shackles that bound me to my old life. But they make me anxious too and fill my mind with what ifs.

I have savings now, something I didn’t have before but I need a larger financial buffer than I have. This week I had a meeting about a new project. Over the next few weeks I will be writing professionally again and not just blogging about life and sex. There isn nothing wrong with writing for my blog, but it doesn’t pay. Also this project will help me to refocus on myself as an expert in my field and escape the sick role I have allowed myself to slip into. Post treatment I have experienced a malaise that caused my mood drop in a way that I think is rather dangerous. I could quite easily settle into a new way of life. One that is just as claustrophobic as the one I had before I began this journey.

There are many aspects of my life that I wish to retain but there are new challenges that I want and need to take on. It is healthy to look back and to reflect and to be sure that the life we have is the one we want. This time the changes will be small and discrete, life will run in parallel but not be quite the same. That feels healthy and exciting too.