Relationships

I’ve been thinking about the different relationships I have had in my life. That I don’t make friends easily and that those relationships often haven’t endured on more than a superficial level. I had few boyfriends before my husband, but then we started going out when I was 15. This means that I have had a sexual relationship with few men and no woman. But relationships with others are important to me and while living alone was ok, I prefer living as I do now.

Childhood friends

I struggled to make friends as a child. I am not sure why. I tried to have a birthday party once, but as my birthday is in August, no one could come. Or maybe they didn’t want to. My life at primary school wasn’t especially happy and the one friend I had moved away. However I did have friends in my street, mostly younger and I don’t remember holidays being particularly troublesome.

At secondary school things improved. I got together with another girl in my year and we were good friends for many years. I still have a number of other friends from school that I am still in contact with. I wouldn’t say I am close to any of them, but I do consider them friends.

When I was 18 I had a party and loads of friends came. Weird to think that was the first birthday party (other than family) that I ever had. Around that time there was a whole group of us that spent lots of time together, going to pubs, for meals and to parties. This lasted until we all started to marry and have children. But as I said I am still in touch with a few.

Boyfriends

My first real boyfriend was the man who became my husband. But before that I briefly saw two boys in my street. The first was my next door neighbour. We only ever went on one date together to the cinema. But we spent a lot of time talking and snogging in the alley behind our houses. He was the first person I let touch me and he had the first penis I ever touched. Then I briefly went out with a boy from over the road who took me bowling on his motorbike.

My mum forbade me from going on that bike, which was why I went. His mates and girlfriends were also there and we had a fun evening. He then asked me over to his house while his parents were away. But again his friends were there and we passed a boring evening as the conversation centred around biking. I didn’t rate his kissing abilities either so ended things.

Then another neighbour asked me out. He was a bit older (19 to my almost 16) and this time it felt right. We went out on our own, to a local youth club and met up with his friends as well as mine. This because a proper relationship and led eventually to marriage. He and I didn’t have PIV sex until I was 18, though we did plenty other stuff.

Family

My parents were both only children, but my nan was one of 9. My brothers and I had loads of cousins that we spent time with as we grew up. These relationships have endured more than some of my friendships and I consider some of those cousins to be friends.

The bond between me and my brothers strengthened once we all married and had children. We holidayed with both families, though not all together. We socialised together a lot and often my parents and my nan were present. For around 10 years our social life centred around those relationships until my brothers marriages broke up one after the other. I remain friendly with both sisters in law, but I don’t see them often.

Since my dad died and my mum moved to be closer to the elder of my two brothers, he and I have become close again. They are probably the only people Master and I regularly socialise with other then my son and his wife.

Work

I’ve been friends with many work colleagues over the years, but those relationships have rarely endured us going our separate ways. My work friendships have been much like my school ones. Though social media helps keep some contact with people.

Online relatonships

Around the time we got our first computer at home, I had started to get bored with my life. I’ve written quite a bit about my relationship with my husband, you can read about it here. Soon I learned about internet chat rooms and began to chat with both men and women. It was quite a time though before I met anyone I chatted to, but whenI did there was some romance and then non PIV sex involved. I don’t feel particularly proud about cheating on my husband in this way. But at the time |I was looking for excitement and also to find out if I had missed out on anything. It turned out I had.

In April 2012 I met S online (read more here) and that was a catalyst for massive changes in my life. Those changes led directly to me meeting Master and ending up where we are now.

Looking back

I’m really a very self contained person who is happy in her own company. But I do need the opportunity to be with other people. I am a little sad that many of my friendships haven’t endured. But perhaps I haven’t been brilliant at putting in the effort. Though of course this is a two way process.

My romantic and sexual relationships have been few. But the important ones endured and I’ll be perfectly happy if I don’t need another one. This relationship is hopefully for life.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Remembering

When we were in the throws of separating my husband told me that he felt that our whole life together had been a waste. That I had ruined all of the good things we had together by my act of infidelity and decision not to remain with him. That was a bit rich coming from a man who had been unfaithful first. But this post is not about that. It is about my response. Which was: I wouldn’t change the things we did together, the family times, holidays and of course our son. Much less the 5 years before we married and the fun things we did afterwards, but before our son was born. I know that 6 years on he thinks differently, but in the heat of the moment I understand why he reacted as he did.

There are many things in my life that I would approach differently, but nothing I would really change. My memories of our long relationship are in the main happy ones. That wasn’t always the case because they were marred by my bitterness of the way he, I and we handled certain situations. But also of my general sense of unhappiness of a life less than fulfilled. So even when I was doing something fun, I found it difficult to just be happy. I was always comparing myself and my relationship with that of others. Perceiving myself to be suffering some how. This is weird, because some of those relationships were nothing to write home about.

But now, from the safety of a happy relationship with a man I know I love and trust I see things differently. I remember with fondness our holidays and family days. As my son was an only child and he has 4 cousins one or more of them came on our trips out and sometimes holidays. Sometimes my parents, their grandparents came along too.

That I spent too much time alone with my son while my husband was either working or pretending to is a source of irritation. It has affected their longer term relationship. But I no longer have to defend him or make excuses for it. I should have been braver and left him sooner. But I am no longer living in the land of what if.

Just as when Master and I discuss that it would have been good if we had met sooner. There is no point in worrying about what might have happened if we had. The experience of life has given me the memories I have. There are times I would rather forget, but know that remembering is more useful. I won’t be fooled in the way I was when young, but at the same time I can let go. I can remember the good and leave the irritations I once felt in the mist of time.

what is more I am making new memories, with Master with my son and with family and friends. It’s good to look back but healthy too to have an eye on the present and what is to come.

F4Thought

Elust #123

Photo courtesy of Deviant Succubus

Welcome to Elust 123

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #124? Start with the rules, come back November 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Bittersweet Symphony

Breast cancer awareness – check your boobs

The devil is in the detail…

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Metamorphosis: Fat, Fit and In Between

Contraception- life without birth control

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Non-Fiction

Take It To The Limit
Marshmallows
Spank me Red
Custom Made Cuckold Porn

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Control
The Image (1975): The Celluloid Dungeon
Return to CMnf
Latex for the Curious – Catsuits
Negotiating a stunt cock
Ruby Ring Piece
13 reasons why I love play parties
You Got a Piercing Where?

Erotic Fiction

Alice’s Minotaur: A Ravishment Tale
Shadow of You
Punished
The Jealous Wife
What we both want
Rugby world cup I only care about the fucking
The Red Thread

Phyllis

When Phyllis punts, she wields the pole
With tiny hands in dainty style,
Inconsequently chatting while
We slowly move towards our goal.

When Phyllis punts, I long to lie
And idly watch her laughing face,
For seldom does such lisson grace
As hers delight a lover’s eye.

BUT what with thrusting skiffs aside,
Entreating pardons by the score,
And pushing off from either shore –
I’m far too fully occupied – when Phyllis punts!

I think he is dreaming of Phyllis’ punting! This was the back drop to our bed this week in Oxford. It seemed a shame not to take a fun picture!

Sinful Sunday

New experiences

It isn’t often these days that we do something new, when it comes to our dynamic. We’re often talking about going to a new club or trying a new munch, but we are creatures of habit. Though we don’t even go to the same munch every month since we also enjoy social events outside of our kink life. But last week we really did something new. We went to visit some kinksters we met last month at CMnf.

Following that meeting I went off to Cyprus with my mum. While I was away, Master got chatting with the two female subs and male Dom. I didn’t join in at the time, but Master relayed the conversations to me and before I knew it a play date had been arranged.

The two girls have a self built play room at the end of their garden and invited us along. I was both excited and apprehensive about the experience. Up to now I have only been to one club, otherwise we have always played in private. Public play feels a safe way to show my exhibitionist side. But the opportunity to experience something new wasn’t something I could turn down.

Last Tuesday we set off mid rush hour for the journey to their place, which turned out to be in the middle of nowhere. They have a huge garden and its easy to see why they would want to build such a fun place there. From the outside it looks like a big shed, or small garage. But inside it is kitted out with lots of fabulous equipment. Master took along his ‘tool kit’ including the floggers that had started our conversation at CMnf.

The play party

Within minutes of arriving all three of us subs were stripped and tied to or bent over some restraining equipment (cross, bench, stocks). Thankfully I was offered the bench which is my preference. Blindfolded I soon settled into my own rhythm and both Doms took it in turns to use their impact toys on us. Space was limited, so we were closer together than usual. But that added to the fun and games. Because we could hear the impact and also what was being said.

Protocol in our relationship has slipped over time. I don’t always thank Master for hitting me, and I can be a little bratty. But I did remember to call him Master and be as respectful as possible to both Doms. I admit that the other two girls were better behaved and it did make me think about my own behaviour.

Thoughts on group play

I enjoy impact play, but it certainly doesn’t drive me or our dynamic. We don’t do it regularly and these days practically never at home. It’s strange really because we have a playroom, but don’t think to use it much.

The new experience of being in private, but with others was, as I had hoped, exciting. I admit I preferred this encounter to the idea of meeting up for a sexual event, such as happened when I was with S.

Both Master and the other Dom stroked and touched me, but that was as far as it went. I think that was where some of my anxiety before hand was bound. Instead I was able to get off on hearing the squeals and cries of the others. Plus the running commentary of the two Doms. We all feel pain differently and our relationships are different, and for me, an observer of people and human behaviour it was enlightening. But incase you think I was in anthropology mode, I wasn’t especially aware I was taking notice at the time.

Time to go home

After play our hosts provided some welcome food and drink and we all sat chatting and getting to know each other better. Intrerestingly us subs were naked and the men clothed, but since we met that way it didn’t feel odd. The great thing is we were able to discuss topics that you wouldn’t usually talk about with people you hardly know. But maybe that is part of what we kinky people do. Or maybe it was because we were naked. Or because we had been part of such a fun experience.

Sadly, it was soon time to leave, our journey home was just over an hour and all too soon we were tucked in bed reminiscing the evening. We have been in touch since and hope to meet up at the club again in December. I hope too that we get to visit our new friends in the not too distant future.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Feeling safe

This week’s Food for Thought prompt is Safewords or Words that make you feel safe. I wrote recently about safewords so am not going there again with this post. So, what words make me feel safe? Early in our relationship I wrote about the words we use within our relationship and what they mean to me, including how they make me feel safe. 5 years on it seems like time for an update.

During sex Master often provides a running commentary of what he is doing, what he wants to do and how it is making him feel. He also asks me questions designed to reaffirm to him that I am his slut, his slave, his bitch. The words he uses during those moments are part of the rituals of our sex life. They also make me feel very safe indeed.

This girl

Since the beginning of our relationship He has referred to me as girl, or more often ‘this girl’. The use of the third person, focuses me onto him and his needs rather than mine. Over time, it has become something of a pet name. It demonstrates to me that Master’s mind set is focused on our M/s dynamic and reminds me of who and what I am. His slave.

Pleasing bitch

The reference to my being his pleasing bitch often follows. There are times when I wonder about the title of my blog. But those words remind me once again about what my purpose is. To provide pleasure to him. During sex he will often refer to me as his pleasure bitch, which is what I am.

Lord and Master

I admit to being something of an unruly slave (his words) and not always massively respectful. But there are times when the need and desire to call Master my Master or Lord are very strong. During sex, when I am restrained and blindfolded during play, for example. You see this is a two way road. It isn’t just about who and what I am to him but who and what he is to me.

Of course he is also my love and when he tells me that he loves me. That he has never loved anyone like he loves me then I know this isn’t just about sex and BDSM. This man is my partner for life. And that makes me feel very safe indeed. I know that I love him too, more than words can express.

F4Thought

Me and my camera

I got my first camera for Christmas when I was about 11. I loved going around taking everyone’s picture. It was just a shame that when I got my first film back from the printers the photos weren’t as good as I’d remembered.

Cameras with film

That was the whole problem, but also the exciting thing about cameras with film. You had to take 12, 24 or 36 photos before you knew how they turned out. So often you took 2 or 3 at a time to ‘make sure’. The film also had to be sent away, either by post or from a chemist shop. This made the thrill of getting that envelope of pictures all the more exciting (or disappointing).

During most of my teenage and early adult life I used my camera for photos of people. Generally family and friends – Christmas, birthdays, holidays. Months would go by between and so when they were developed the results could span the year. Once my son arrived however, I didn’t hold back.

I photographed his every move, smile, milestone. In that pre-social media world sharing baby photos had to be done physically. My nan used to steal so many of my photos of her great grand children that I resorted to getting two sets of prints developed.

Going digital

I bought my first digital camera while on holiday in the Canary Islands as they were cheaper there. Oh the joy of being able to see the results on a little screen. By then I wasn’t only taking photos of my family, but also views of the places we visited. Plus animals, insects and flowers.

The great thing about the digital camera was that you could remove the memory card, pop into Boots (or another high street outlet) and get the photos developed. To begin with I think it still took a few days, but eventually you could have them in an hour! What an absolute treat.

Too many prints

When I moved last year I landed up with all of our family photos from the past 30 years. My ex didn’t want any of them, mind you he subsequently ended up owning all of his parent’s photos. Though I believe he has thrown away many of them. I am more sentimental than that and can’t bear to do the same. But I know I need to go through the boxes sometime soon and sort and cull some.

Other than photos from my son’s wedding I haven’t had anything printed up for years. I have a photo on the fireplace and I gave my mum another two. The others I chose and paid for are stored in my computer files. My son and daughter in law presented me with a book of their photos for my birthday and so I have that too. Printing photos isn’t something people do very often any more.

A change of scenery
Me on the stairs in Seville showing my tits. I have pulley's my top up and bra down.
A typical exhibitionist photo from our collection!

Before I met Master there were a few photos of me naked or semi naked. Most taken by me with my camera or latterly phone. Now there are many. He loves to photograph me while we play. But also he likes me to pose for him naked, semi clothed or dressed in something fetishy. I have also taken to photographing him and he seems to like it too. He is something of an exhibitionist.

I think that having those photos taken has helped me accept my own body as beautiful as well as to change my view of the human body. I much prefer people with interesting bodies, like mine. By that I mean not models but those who are ordinary people willing to show that our non perfect bodies are not only normal but beautiful.

If you had told me 10 years ago that I would be showing photos of me naked on a blog online I would have laughed in your face. But of course that is what I do most weeks thanks to memes like Sinful Sunday and February Photofest. What’s more, I love it.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Breast Cancer – Being aware

I wasn’t going to write anything about Breast Cancer Awareness. But having read May’s wonderful post about her friend Shirley and watched Tabitha’s fabulous Vlog I feel compelled.

A year ago next week I had a right mastectomy for Lobular Breast Cancer. I had progressed through my adult life thinking that Breast Cancer was a disease that would happen to someone else. I took the pill for a limited time, I breast fed my son, I haven’t taken HRT. But of course the disease is less selective than that. If I were to believe everything I read, then my lifestyle – diet, weight and alcohol intake – are to blame. But since my cancer was hormone dependent, it is surely more complex than that.

Early detection

In the UK mammograms are offered every 3 years to women over 50 as well as annually to those who have a previous history. However, many breast cancers aren’t detectable, mine wasn’t and nor are many of those found by younger women. Nor, unfortunately is an ultrasound conclusive, so if you find a lump it will have to be biopsied. 

That means you need to spend time regularly feeling your own breasts, which I know isn’t a particular problem to many people. Certainly not to me. What’s more, your partner (if you have one) can help. Finding something unusual is only possible if you know what is normal. And if you discover something – lumps, bumps, a discharge from your nipple – then see your doctor.

Stupidly I was too scared, too blasé that it was nothing and too busy with work and moving to a new house to go to the doctor as soon as I should. I’ve been told it probably made no difference but seeing someone sooner might have resulted in a lumpectomy. Not mastectomy. So, my advice is to check your breasts regularly and use Tabitha’s vlog to help you.

Being Open

There are still people out there who don’t know I have had breast cancer. By that I mean some family and friends I haven’t seen in a while. Also those I’d rather didn’t know. But that number is small and shrinking.

At the time of my diagnosis I was anxious about having to give bad news to people. I found it upsetting to have to say the words: I have breast cancer. My natural instinct is to try to caveat bad news with positivity and it’s wrong to do that when you just don’t know. Also I didn’t want to be the subject of some people’s gossip, not that that didn’t happen. Friends and family of people I told later came up at social events to ask how I was and commiserate with me. But I guess that is human nature.

But what is very clear is that you can’t manage a cancer diagnosis alone. There are so many doctors appointments and decisions to be made. Although the medical and nursing staff provided their opinion of what I should do, ultimately it was my body. I consider myself the property of my Master, but these were decisions we had to take together. And ultimately I signed the consent form for my mastectomy, I underwent the numerous scans and X-rays and I had the thing done.

Helping others

This blog is the one place I have been able to express myself fully (other than with Master). Sometimes I have done so here as a rehearsal for discussions with others. Friends and fellow bloggers accompanied me on my journey, many of you who will probably read this post. But also others have contacted me through my blog and I hope this will continue to happen.

A breast cancer diagnosis is horrible. Indeed the uncertainty of finding a lump or being recalled from a mammogram is no fun either. So if my willingness to share my thoughts and feelings helps others then all this is worth it. And if I can link to others who are willing to promote breast cancer awareness to their fellow humans with breasts then we can break down the stigma that cancer still holds for many people.

Examine your breasts, seek help if anything is amiss and don’t keep your worries to yourself.

All of my breast cancer links can be found here.

Kissing vignettes

The touch of your lips as you brush mine sends a shiver through my body. My nerve endings tingle and you pull me into your arms. Our lips meet again, your lips part and slide your tongue onto mine. They dance a little together, we smile, and then our lips meet again, this time closed.

I’m standing at the window looking out onto the street where two of our neighbours are chatting. Suddenly you are behind me, your brush your lips over the back of my neck and gently kiss in the centre. Then you place your hands over my clothed breasts and will those outside to look up and in.

I lay naked on the bed and you crouch between my open legs. You lean down and nibble at my nipple while stroking my breast, then run your tongue across the areola. Finally you take it into your mouth. The feeling of you sucking on me sends erotic messages to my cunt, which tightens. You release the nipple and instead suck my tit, leaving a tiny bruise. Something that will remind me later of where you have been.

We lay together on the sofa watching TV. Something makes us laugh and I turn my head towards you. We kiss gently and then because we are both aroused, our mouths remain locked in their own embrace. Our tongues move together and the TV is forgotten. You break away and instruct me to suck your cock. I protest, though not strongly and while you undo your trousers I get down onto the floor. As I take your cock into my mouth I inhale your aroma, teasing the tip with my tongue and then taking you more deeply.

Afterwards you pull me into your arms and kiss my mouth. You tell me you love the taste of your cock on my lips. But then you also love the taste of my cunt and though I love it less, I kiss you passionately then too.

A previous kissing post can be found here

F4Thought