When we are apart

Today’s 30 days of D/s post is about what happens to our dynamic when we are apart from each other. Until last summer there were days (and nights) most weeks when we were apart from each other. As my moving date got closer I found the stress built up. I definitely struggled without Master’s direct control. We Skyped every evening, but after a busy working day I had inevitably had a glass or three of wine by the time we got online. He would have done the same and this led to a certain level of misunderstanding and disengagement. In turn this added to the stress that just wasn’t there when we were together. I found it difficult to feel much like a slave during those times.

But things have changed now. The amount of time we apart has reduced considerably and we have also had time to get used to being together. Like everyone we have had to work hard at the together bit and I feel this has had a good effect on my sense of wellbeing when we are apart.

My mum lives 2 hours away from us and I usually visit her every fortnight and stay over. While with her, I have a different roles, but that doesn’t mean I forget that I am his slave. In fact being away gives me time to reflect on our time together. It allows space for me to consider my actions in the previous period and think about any behaviour changes needed. We don’t tend to speak, save for a few texts while I am away, we save our thoughts for when I return.

This September I am taking mum away to Cyprus for the second time and will be away for a week. During that time, I know she will test my patience and I will need regular contact with Master to keep me on the straight and narrow. But knowing this should help prevent any major problems. Plus I can always wear a butt plug to remind me of who I am and to whom I belong.

Loving BDSM 30 Days of D/s

Psychology

Over the years I have used this blog to explore my feelings about the changes in my life. Whether it was my thoughts on infidelity and cheating on my husband. Or new sexual exploits, examining my submission and what it meant to me. Day to day it often feels as if I cover topics in a superficial way, but looking back that isn’t the case. I have 3 categories labeled psychology: D/s, M/S and me. There are a total of 210 posts categorised under psychology, in total.

Psychology of D/s

During my first D/s relationship I was involved with a man who lived 2 hours away from me. Because I was still very much married when I began the affair it was difficult for us to find time to be together. Online communication became a very important way of us finding the time to be together. We used text, telephone and finally Skype to communicate. We were able to dissect aspects of the things we had done together and discuss them together. Along with reading various D/s manuals I was able to review my progress (as I saw it).

But there were also times when he would be busy, with work, his children or as it turned out later, meeting other women. But whatever I felt during those times (and I have written a number of sad and lonely posts), I learnt a lot from the whole experience. When it was finally time to move on, I was ready for a deeper D/s relationship.

Psychology of M/s

When I first met Master I categorised many of the early posts under the D/s tag, since that is the kind of relationship it was. These posts give some indication of the thoughts going through my mind as our relationship deepened.

In May / June 2014 we moved into more of a Master / slave dynamic. It was something that Master wanted and it felt right for me. But it came with a greater feeling of emotional depth that it was often difficult to express. This post was written shortly after Master made me his slave.

The most profound time though was when Master collared me, his slave. It felt as if it came with a good deal of responsibility. To be the slave he wanted and could be proud of. This is very similar to the feelings I have about marriage. And to those who have asked if we might do that, well, yes we might.

Psychology of me

I didn’t intentionally set out to end my marriage, or did I? This question has played over and over in my mind for many years. I told myself I was exploring my sexuality, my need for a dominant. But of course I always knew I was committing adultery, being unfaithful and that was wrong. Especially since my husband had done the same to me years before.

This post is not a place to discuss the rights and wrongs of that. But I have written many times about my feelings about lying and then getting found out.

I never shied away (on here) from telling my life as it was. Obviously I have never written everything down. That would take too long and often would be quite depressing. But I do have a useful means of finding out what I thought about my life at various points. So, I’m glad I have written in this way and will continue to do so. Whatever happens next.

Informed consent

Quite rightly, consent is a frequently discussed topic on blogs and social media by the kink community. However it is not a topic I have given much space to on this blog. Often when I discuss our relationship, a Master / slave total power exchange, consent issues are implied rather than explicitly stated. In this post I’m going to attempt to articulate my journey. But also be clear that Master does have my informed consent, at all times.

Definitions

Informed consent is consent that is given freely and willingly by someone who is aware of what they are agreeing to, not under the influence of drugs or alcohol, not being pressured or coerced, and of legal age. Informed consent is often referenced in BDSM communities. It is vital before starting a scene, especially any scenes that involves play that appears nonconsentual such as forced orgasm.

Kinkly.com

These are clear and wise words. However, we don’t discuss consent every time we engage in a BDSM activity, or have kinky sex. But I do regularly reaffirm that I give my consent to Master and freely discuss my limits. Having said that, I have also given my limits to Master and he regularly pushes them. I can, however remove consent at any time and I have a safe word.

At the beginning of my journey

In August 2012 I wrote about my submission to my then Sir. The post is mainly about consequences, but it does cover consent. Even in that relationship, I didn’t renew my consent each time, but knew I could withdraw it.

When i am with Sir, i have chosen to arrive at the place we have decided to meet at the given time. I have done this in the knowledge that there are expectations placed upon me that have been discussed in advance. i submit to those willingly since this is a consentual arrangement. Sir is not big on punishment, but at the same time i am never sure whether i might be spanked, clamped or restrained. i never know where Sir is going to chose to put his cock next. i relax into the submission, i am compliant, i submit to humiliation; to situations that wouldn’t normally be part of what i would do.
I can always choose what i want to do, but everything i do has consequences.

17 August 2017
This relationship

I wrote about limits and consent in this relationship for my 2016 Blogging A-Z. You can see that informed consent has been important from the beginning.

With Master, the relationship started off in the same way, limits were discussed in a chat room and, he was always careful to test out I was happy with things. We were playing or else having sex. He discovered my exhibitionist tendencies and pushed those, but I was never unhappy with what he suggested and have never called red. I became his slave during that first summer and then last year received his collar and this caused me to think. I trust this man, he has my submission, I have agreed that he is my owner and so as part of this he should have my limits. He didn’t demand them, I offered them and he grabbed them from me.


Of course, I am a human and I have consented to this whole thing, so I can take anything away that was given. But I can’t see that happening. The limits are defined by him and that is how we live our life. He loves the power he feels owning both me and my limits and I in turn love that I no longer have to worry about this kind of thing. Now if he asked me to wear a diaper, things might change!

14 April 2016
Reflections on informed consent

As a nurse I am more aware than most about consent issues. Giving care and treatment to people unable or unwilling to give consent is part and parcel of that work. Along with always making sure that the best interests of the individual is upheld.

Even though I am the one giving consent in this context, it is important I understand what I am consenting to. There have been times when I didn’t entirely know what I was letting myself into within a scene. But thankfully I have never been with anyone who abused my right to say no.

I love to read fiction where consent issues are at best tenuous. This includes rape, people being held against their will and made to submit. But that doesn’t mean to say my life is like that. Or that I would want it to be. Relationships develop over time, whether long distance, on line or 24/7. We evolved to the consent non-consent one that we now have. And we got there through a great deal of discussion. This is something that continues to this day. I may be his slave, but I can always call red and could walk away if I wanted. however, I doubt very much I will.

Girl

At what age do we leave our girlhood behind and instead become a woman. Adulthood for me was technically reached at 18, but in many ways I was still a girl. I hadn’t yet had sex, didn’t have many responsibilities and hadn’t yet voted in a general election. Emotionally I hadn’t fully developed and did so over the next 2 or 3 years. Older family members were used to 21 being the age when you were considered of age. I received many cards on my 21st birthday with keys on them. I was still 21 when I married my ex and took on a mortgage, a responsible job (qualified nurse) and all of the baggage that comes with it. During my 20’s I still considered myself a girl in many ways and then I became a parent and was definitely a woman.

Fast forward to 2014 and I met a man who insisted and still insists on calling me a girl. His girl. He also had me calling myself ‘this girl’.

When I started my blog in 2012, I referred to myself as Joolz and called the blog world of Joolz. S invariably called me Joolz and actually that had been something of a nickname during my teenage years. But Master felt Joolz was someone I had been. Now I was to be ‘this girl’.

Some quotes from my blog

New Dom would like me to refer to myself in the third person when i am in submissive role. He feels it will help me to explore my submission more and to hand more of myself to him (or something like that). At the same time i will call him Sir or Master, or as a further suggestion Lord. I nearly fell off my chair at that one and he wondered if i was being a little bratty! i expect i was, but i think that this girl will call Him Sir or Master rather than Lord!

15 Feb 2014

Who are you? He asked when she had given Him that huge orgasm and had on his instructions kept it coming.
Who was she?
This girl. she was this girl. she was also this slut, this bitch, this whore. She was His submissive. She is this girl.
He smiled. He loves the feeling of power this gives to Him. This girl likes to know that she had given herself, all of herself to Him. So much so, that at these moments she no longer has a name.

6 May 2014

If anyone had told me 9 months ago that I would again be anyone’s girl I would have laughed in their faces. Me, a 50 something year old woman, someone’s girl?
But now, not only do I like being His girl, but I love the fact that is what He calls me all of the time. What is more, I love to be in a place where where we are anonymous and where I can call Him Master, even in a public place.
The power and control He has over me, His girl is often subtle. So much so, that no one else can tell it is there. But right now, it is ever present, even as now from a thousand miles away.

28 October 2014
Reflections on being ‘this girl’

I know that many Dominant’s use the term girl to refer to their submissive. It has nothing to do with age play but does relate to the power dynamic.

Over the years, I have not only got used to being His girl but embrace it. When Master tells me to call myself ‘this girl’, he is reminding me of who and what I am. Sometimes I need that reminder.

Alone time

This week’s Food for thought Friday is about making time for yourself. I am fortunate that I am able to grab some alone time most weeks. It helps that the person I live with absolutely needs time to himself, just as I do.

How often do you make time for yourself?

This depends on what we have going on in a given week. Now I am not working I am able to spend more time doing all the things I love. But there is always a danger that you try to cram too much in. This must be why retired people exclaim that they don’t know how they found time to go to work.

Master and I do most things together. We shop, cook and watch films, go out to concerts and to the cinema. We travel to lovely places, wander through and around churches and galleries. One of the reasons I stopped working as soon as I could was so that I wasn’t constantly running out of annual leave or using up entire precious weekends.

So when we have a quieter week we both take advantage. Master tends to go into his study and until now I would be on the sofa with my lap top, or else reading. But I’ve decided to return to some form of work as well as to step up my blogging pursuits. So last week we went to Ikea and bought a desk and chair for me. We have installed this in a spare bedroom. Next we plan to put in some serious shelving so that my books, which are currently residing in the garage can come into the house.

What do you do to gain the most benefit from your “you time”?

For me (and also for him I think), it is about head space. When you are constantly in the company of others there is no time to just get into your own head. To think. We both also like silence sometimes and when we listen to music we have different tastes. So spending time apart is good.

Sometimes I will go for a walk during ‘my time’. This allows me to get some fresh air and exercise while also taking time to think and reflect.

The time we spend apart enables us to have stuff to talk about when we are together. It also means that we are both mentally refreshed for whatever activity we are planning.

How do you balance the time you devote to yourself and to others? Which do you prioritise? Why?

There was a time when everyone else in my life came first. My husband and son, work, parents. Gradually over the past few years this has changed. Leaving my house in the hands of my ex and his new partner signified a change for me. Then leaving work and of course having surgery last autumn forced changes upon me. I had no choice but to prioritise me and us.

My mum now lives 2 hours away. This means visits are planned and I tend to stay over night with her and travel back the next day. My son was married at Christmas and he and his wife live in the town I moved from. This is about 40 minutes away, so again our time together is more planned than it used to be.

There is a calmness to my life that wasn’t there before. At last there is balance. But I think I deserve the life, and the alone time I get to have for now.

Experiences of bondage

I am kneeling on the bed my ankles in a spreader bar. There is a clamp attached to my labia. My wrists are cuffed.

Bondage has been part of my BDSM / kink experience since the beginning. Both of my dominants have enjoyed restraining me in one way or another and from the start I knew it was something I liked too. Their techniques, materials used and locations may have differed, but the experience for me is the same. I find restraint relaxing and freeing, so much so that I rarely find the need to struggle against it.

First experiences of bondage

S was into homemade equipment. Indeed he was into homemade everything, he was somewhat careful with his money. However that doesn’t detract from his skill and imagination. He loved being outdoors and was a keen hiker and cyclist, and a day out with him was always interesting. Along with the all weather picnic he carried rope, scarves and other equipment in his backpack. I can’t deny that I had some extremely fun times with him. It is a shame that there is no photographic evidence so show for those times.

A number of times, I found myself tied to a tree while he used my body or had me give him a blowjob. Back at home he had a fabulous bed with a frame that lent itself perfectly to tying me to it. Then he would use ties, of which he had a large often garish supply.

Even on the day he dumped me I had been tied up and used. Long time readers will know that there was a part two to that relationship. Even though the D/s ended, the kinky sex and restraint didn’t. We enjoyed that right until the last time we met.

Reflections on my experiences of bondage with Master

The very first time we played, I was restrained in a spreader bar, that was tied to the bed. My wrists were cuffed and restrained to the bed above my head. I was blindfolded and gagged. For the first time in a long time I allowed myself (if I had any control) to drift into sub space. Since then, I can honestly say I haven’t looked back.

At the beginning of our relationship I called Master gadget man. This is because he had a lot of equipment; restraints, vibrators, dildos, impact toys. Over the years his repertoire has continued to grow. One of the best experiences ever, was when we went to a private dungeon for an overnight stay. The equipment there was fantastic and took things to another level. This is an experience we will be repeating in a couple of weeks time.

But it isn’t all about equipment, whether high or low tech. There is more to bondage than that. At a club I might lean over, or lie on a bench unrestrained. But, even though Master is hitting me with floggers and canes, I don’t more (much). There is something about the situation that keeps me in position and prevents me from moving out of reach. I love the way that I am able to get into my submissive space even without physical restraint.

Emotional bondage

Finally I am tied to Master by the collar and cuff I wear and by my piercings. To me these are physical symbols of emotional bondage. I agreed to be his slave and in return I wear those signs. In the main they are noticeable only by us, especially the piercings. But they are there to tell the world that I am his. The knowledge that I am his slave helps me through each day, including the decisions I make. One of the rules of our relationship is that I consider what he would think when I make a decision. Am I doing what he would want, how will it affect us and our relationship, will it make him proud of me? I believe that this is the most important element of our M/s relationship.

Play is important, as is the type of kinky sex we have. But more important is that I stay true to myself and to him. That I am bonded to him in the way I am. Even though others can’t see those invisible restraints, they are there. They make me feel safe, loved and needed.

tellmeabout

Revealing my vulnerability

Radiotherapy took much more out of me than I expected. The journey to the hospital, waiting around and receiving the short treatment was fine. It has been the ensuing 3 weeks that has been difficult. I have been sore, very sore and I have been tired. Surprisingly too my mood has been low. You would imagine that reaching the end of treatment would be a high and it was. So why do I feel so low? Finally this week I admitted to Master, not only am I dead tired and weary but I feel depressed. Not seriously, just a little.

I have rarely in my life admitted these kind of feelings to another and I still feel slightly surprised that I can. Maybe not quite the astonished of the Wicked Wednesday prompt, but surprised all the same. Acknowledging my vulnerability to Master is something of an achievement. Admitting it to friends and family, now that would be something. But actually, I have.

There is strength in not admitting your vulnerability

That was what I believed for many years. I wanted to appear strong, not weak. But then was often surprised people did not see through it. People, including my husband used to tell me how strong I was. While all the time I would be crying inside, unsure which way to turn, what to do. There was always someone I needed to be strong for – my son who was a young child when my husband was cheating, my husband when he was made redundant, my parents when my dad was diagnosed with cancer. The list is almost endless.

The longer you keep that stiff upper lip going the tougher you and others think you are. But in the end something has to give and when I reached outside of my marriage for another man to love me I was searching for something else. It is no surprise that I found men who wanted to use my body, who wanted to restrain and beat me. Luckily I chose wisely and neither of those men turned out to be in any way abusive.

Letting go

Over the past 5 years, Master has helped me reveal my vulnerable side. He has helped peel away the layers of armour with which I had surrounded myself. I always held secrets, things I didn’t want to tell others. Sometimes because I didn’t want to hurt another, or because I wanted to hold something back. Now though, there is nothing to hide. There is nothing I can’t tell. Secrets and lies multiply over time and then when they are told they have a greater effect. By admitting a vulnerability at the time takes away some of the weight of the problem.

It is amazing I didn’t recognise this in me before. When my son was small, around 6 or 7 he worried about so many things. We found a book in the library which, was all about a little boy like him, who learnt how to share worries so they didn’t become a huge burden. It seems a shame I didn’t make the link then, as I would have saved myself a huge amount of heart ache.

Moving forward

My doctors, nurses and others said that the period just after treatment would be difficult. That people often feel vulnerable and they were right. The soreness, even though I knew it might happen, surprised me. As did the extent of the exhaustion. But thank goodness I am with someone who had listened and read about the effects of diagnosis and treatment. Someone who understands and wants to care for me.

This illness has allowed me to be vulnerable and to allow my family to see a different side of me. Some have embraced it and reassured me while others have chosen to ignore it. But it has taught me about myself and my body and about what is important. I hope that in the future I will take the memories from this experience and choose not to try to rebuild that armour. I’m sure Master will have something to say if I try.

Maybe I am a little bit astonished so this piece fits nicely into the Wicked Wednesday prompt of ‘astonish’ as well as the Safeword D/s club prompt of vulnerability.

tellmeabout

Talking dirty

I’m not a vocal person when I’m having sex. But just because I don’t scream with pleasure, doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it. Nor does it mean that I am not aroused or not about to come. Given the choice I would internalise all of the feelings I have about what I am doing and just allow them to wash over me. But I don’t really have the choice, since Master demands a reaction from me. During sex he will be talking dirty and when he does, I do too.

Running commentary

Master likes to tell me exactly what he is doing to me and how it is making him feel. If his cock is deep inside me he will let me know how deep it is and how wet I am. These tend to be things I already know, but the fact he is telling me concentrates my mind. He loves to talk about breeding me, which is something I would have liked too, if we had met sooner. This is one of his fantasies and I actually find it reassuring, it shows he loves me that much.

Much of what he says though could be described as both dirty and degrading, if you were of that mind. He call’s me a bitch and a slut and asks me who I am and if I am his. He derives enormous power from the things I say to him, that I am his slave, his pleasing bitch, his slut. You see I am not just any bitch or slut, but HIS and that is what is important. His dominance over me is confirmed for him when I am talking dirty to him, especially as my natural stat is not to speak at all. This confirms his power and authority and in that moment he is not only my Master, but my Lord too.

How talking dirty feels to me

When I tell Master that I am his pleasing bitch it reaffirms my submission. Reminds me of the slave I agreed to be and am. It helps me to focus on him and on nothing else and to remember who is the boss here. I am a consenting and willing participant, but he is in charge and calls the shots. I am there to please him, to be the slut he wants and needs. Uttering those words puts me into a space I don’t tend to inhabit all of the time.

That means that while most of our dirty talk takes place in the bedroom, or perhaps playroom there are other times. He might come up behind me, hold me and whisper in my ear: “who’s bitch are you” and of course I will answer that I am his. He rarely calls me Julie, but instead girl. This is all part of his belief that I remember my submission better if I am constantly reminded of it. Knowing that I am this girl really does focus me. And when he calls me bitch or slut instead of girl, my cunt clenches and submission becomes sexual arousal. Which I guess is all part of what I am and who I am. Master’s Pleasing Bitch, sex slave to her Master.

Explore

This journey of exploration started almost 7 years ago. Knowing I wanted more from life and from sex I dived head first into a world of infidelity, kinky sex, submission and BDSM. Given that Master and I will have been together for 5 years on February 1st this seems a good time to explore what I have learned along the way.

Great sex can’t save a relationship, but bad or no sex can help destroy one

One of the key drivers that led me to stray from my marriage was our almost non existent sex life. That and the fact I didn’t really fancy him any more. I had only had sex with one man and wanted to explore that side of me. Outside of the constraints of that relationship I discovered a whole new world. My husband had quite a low sex drive, and suddenly I was with a man who demanded so much more. I had never had sex that lasted most of the night, rarely sucked a cock and had never actually enjoyed it. Then of course there was the anal sex.

In the long term, a relationship can’t be sustained on sex alone. It wasn’t that S and I didn’t get on together, because we did. We enjoyed doing things together, but differed on expectations of what life might give us. I do enjoy the finer things in life and he was something of a cheapskate (irrespective of whether he had the money to spend or not). I don’t mind admitting I found him something of a know all, sometimes without substance. What’s more we had different ideas about where we were heading and in the end he made the decision for me.

There was no turning back though once I had enjoyed a healthy sex life. So the end of that relationship also proved to be the beginning of the end of my marriage.

Don’t assume you know everything about D/s on the basis of a single relationship

I emerged from the relationship with S imagining I knew everything there was to know. Also that I was more experienced than I actually was. However, what I did know was that I am submissive and want and need someone to give me structure and control.

Within days of meeting Master, I discovered that not all dominants are the same. The intensity of play I experienced on our first few play dates were more than I had known, but I wasn’t phased by it. Maybe in hindsight I should have been and perhaps I should have been more cautious.

However, for the second time I was lucky that I met someone both experienced and kind. We both thought the relationship would be quite casual, but found ourselves attracted in ways that we hadn’t expected.

Polyamory is not for everyone

I’ve never considered myself to be a jealous person, but it turns out I can be. It is also possible for someone you have never met to make your life almost unbearable. If I had known how upset our relationship would make Master’s LDR slave I am not sure he and I would have met in real life. We entered the relationship fully aware of each other, but it didn’t take long for jealousy to raise its head. I’d like to be able to say that it was all her, but really it wasn’t.

We brought out the worst in each other. Both of us wanting to be the most important person in our man’s life. Most of our attempts to engage with each other ended in one or other getting upset. If he had decided to continue with their relationship, ours would have ended. Her mental illness seemed to be projected upon me and I was becoming needy in a way that I had never experienced. I’d like to think that I could share Master with the right other person if he wanted. But I am not sure I could especially if it turned into something long term. Play partners though, that might be something different. But then that is exactly what I was meant to be!

Being owned is just right for me and for us

I have written before about the power Master feels knowing that he owns and controls me. And I revel in the knowledge that I am his slave, owned by him. In many ways we are coming full circle.

In the beginning, when things were new, I often stated that I could feel my submission so clearly that I could almost touch it. That was partly due to the effects of subspace, which was new to me. Being given multiple orgasms and receiving impact play are just two ways this can occur. It puts me into an almost trance like state, leaving the normal world and associated problems elsewhere. This feeling then extended into our life outside the bedroom. Each episode had a beginning and end, usually when one of us went home and normal life resumed. Sometimes I worried about being too needy, especially when we weren’t together.

Now, we spend each day and night together. Our apart time is short, though of course it happens. My submissive feelings aren’t reliant on orgasms, impact play or being told to kneel because they are part of who I am. He is naturally dominant with me. He owns me and what he says goes. Increasingly, I can defer to him, not because of neediness but because I am his property, his responsibility. This gives him the sense of power and it makes me feel safe and protected.

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

Discovery

Week 2 of the Erotic Journal challenge is about the discovery of our sexuality and ourselves as sexual beings. This week’s Wicked Wednesday is about the technical aspects of sex. This post will attempt to combine the two.

The beginning

I first met my future husband when he moved to live opposite us. He was 11 and I was 7. Our mothers were friendly, though not exactly friends. However we did play in each others houses when one of the mums visited for a cuppa. By the time I was a teenager and he was leaving school our mums both worked and so any contact was pretty accidental. I did like him, but he wasn’t one of the boys I fancied back then, they tended to go to my school and he had gone elsewhere.

Soon before my 16th birthday, during the half term before my o’levels he phoned and asked me over to his place to sun bathe. It was a hot May day and his family were out, we sat in the garden and chatted. I didn’t take much account of the heat of the sun and returned home a little burnt. The next day he took me to London for the day. We had fun, walked miles and ate strawberries and ice cream. My usually good appetite deserted me and my tummy was full of butterflies, all day long. The aroma of the soap he used and the aftershave he wore was very alluring. This was the first boy who I think turned me on without actually touching or kissing me. Though of course, within days there were kisses.

Over the ensuing months we spent a lot of time together, both out with friends and on our own and in doors. Spending time in my bedroom alone together was pretty much frowned on and anyway I had an annoying younger brother who tended to burst in. But his parents seemed more relaxed about things. So we often spend hours in his room, lying on the bed listening to music. We never took off all of our clothes but did strip down to underwear, touch and kiss.

“Don’t come back pregnant”

I would lie with his leg between mine and he would flex his quadricep muscle. This believe it or not, was enough to get me off, though I’m not sure if I actually orgasmed. I touched him outside and inside his pants and found the whole thing pretty daring. But we didn’t attempt to have sex. I was pretty happy with what we were doing and didn’t feel the need for more right then.

When I was 17 we decided to take a holiday to Jersey. My parents weren’t overly keen on us going away on our own, but didn’t try to stop us. But on the departure day as we were leaving my mum came to me as I finished packing. “Your dad isn’t happy about you going away with B and all I can say is please don’t come pregnant”

I was pretty indignant. She didn’t know if we were sexually active or not and I didn’t take kindly to the suggestion I was stupid enough to get pregnant. B and I slept together, but didn’t attempt to have sex. The holiday though was fabulous, mainly because we could do what we wanted without parents being present.

The challenges of having sex

In October 1980, another year later, I went off to begin my nursing career. We all lived in tiny rooms in the nurses home and were watched upon by a hawk of a home sister. She was a spinster, who had spent her entire career in nursing and later managing the home. Boyfriends could visit but were meant to be out by midnight. However there were ways to smuggle people in and out and so we ignored that rule.

B was a frequent visitor especially at weekends. At last a door that could be closed and locked. Reasonably thick walls and some anonymity. At last, after 2 years together we finally took the plunge and had actual sex with penetration. Well we tried to anyway, since our first couple of attempts were failures. I owned no toys and had never so much as slipped my own fingers into my vagina. I am not even sure he had either and when it came to trying to sick his hard cock inside me we struggled. We had no real idea about positions or what might work for us and less idea about how difficult (or easy) it should be.

I resorted to consulting with my closest student friend who was already engaged to a sailor and she offered me some friendly advice. Essentially to keep trying and not get frustrated. The following weekend we tried again. Helped along by a bottle of wine and the knowledge that we needed to relax more, eventually we made it happen.

Sex during marriage

Looking back, sex with B wasn’t all it could have been. Soon after we married I bought a copy of the joy of sex which at least offered some help on positions. We tried many and had fun doing so, but I often felt I could take or leave it. My nursing job was demanding and I worked shifts. Even when I was in the mood, there seemed to be something missing but I didn’t know what it was. Within 4 or 5 years he was having an affair with an older woman which for a while helped us, since he had learned some new techniques. But when I discovered the affair my view of him changed. I never again trusted him and I was somehow turned off by him. We carried on having sex for the remainder of our marriage, but not for enjoyment.

When I was in my 30’s I bought my first sex toys and had my first real orgasms. But these happened when I was alone or when he was asleep rather than as something we shared.

I was almost 50 when I first orgasmed during PIV sex and since then I haven’t really looked back sexually. I feel sad about my sex life with B and that we were never able to fulfil each other in the way we should. Perhaps we were never really compatible as sexual partners. Or perhaps the mistake was in carrying on past our 20s. But I don’t regret meeting him or marrying him or having a child together. I just wish we had been better at communicating and been more honest about our needs. Thankfully he has also found someone new and I hope their sex life is better than ours ever was.

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