Finding myself

“Who are you?
Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?
I have. I am fucking crazy.
But I am free.”
― Lana Del Rey

I started this blog when I was at the beginning of a journey. Funnily enough at the beginning I didn’t know if it would lead anywhere, nor where that place would be.

I didn’t wake up one day and think: I know what, I’ll become a sex blogger. But as someone with limited sexual experience at the age of 50, writing about my newfound experiences seemed to be worthwhile. What’s more, I am glad I did. Especially the times when I’ve written about my hopes and fears, my feelings. Even though I don’t dwell on past relationships, documenting them here has meant I have the opportunity to look back to see where I’ve come from.

Now though, I think I am there. I have arrived at the place, the life I wanted. I am living my own fantasy. Plus, for all I live in a 24/7 M/s relationship I am free of the invisible ties that seemed to keep me in an unhappy place for so long. In April I was at last divorced and so a process that began 30 years ago came to fruition. I knew a long time ago I had made a mistake in choosing my husband, but I stayed and saw the relationship through to its bitter end.

I saw my ex yesterday, I collected a letter from him. We stood outside our former marital home for 10 minutes or so. It was enough. I don’t miss much about the home and certainly nothing about my life with him. We had good times and have a son to show for our long marriage. But I’ve learned more in the past 8 years about sex and relationships than I did in the rest of my adult life.

This life, master and I have together isn’t perfect. Who’s is? I’m struggling a bit with my submission. some days I don’t think I want our relationship to be a power exchange. But then when I think things through I know that I need it. I rebel and push against it, but it keeps me safe. It stops me having to worry about making decisions. I worry that I don’t feel as aroused as I want to be (medication causes that I think). But I also know that once we touch, kiss or have sex I am me again. A sexual being, that craves the dominance he provides me with. He makes me feel fulfilled and free to be myself.

I’m at a crossroads here. I love my blog but am tired of it too. I want to write, but often can’t. It feels like time for a change in direction, but I don’t know what that means or where it might take me. There will definitely be a rebrand in the coming weeks, I’ve started to think about how the blog might look. What I’m less sure of is the content.

Thanks to LSBs meme Quote Quest and Lana Del Rey’s beautiful lyrics in her haunting song Ride for the inspiration for this post. Maybe using more quotes to inspire is the way forward?

Endings and Beginnings

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning.” – Louis L’Amour

What a fabulous idea for a meme. The lovely LSB has launched Quote Quest and this is the very first quote.

Endings

I guess the trouble with endings is that you can’t always work out when something is finished or ended. Take relationships. It’s only in looking back that I can measure (approximately) when I knew my marriage was over. There are several contenders. You see, I’d been going through the motions for years but there was a day when I decided that there had to be more to life. The first time I met S and decided to embark on a relationship with him. The day that my ex found out about S. More likely the day S had finished with me and I didn’t beg my husband to take me back.

2018 was a massive year of endings. I helped my mum move into a more suitable home, packed up my own belongings and moved in with Master. I resigned my job and left that then developed breast cancer, which felt at the time an ending to my life as an attractive woman.

Beginnings

But actually all those endings brought with them beginnings. My mum’s move has helped develop and nurture my relationship with the elder of my two brothers. We have to work together to keep her safe and we have to speak to each other to prevent her playing us off against each other.

I’ve been back to the house I lived in for 27 years and it is no longer home. I have no feelings about it and now look on Masters house as home. That did take a long time, probably 18 months. I felt I was a visiter, but now we’ve begun to decorate and buy new things that are ours I feel more secure.

The house move and the injection of cash that went with it meant I could stop working. I’m conscious I have some dependency on Master but am learning to park that in a very tiny corner of my brain. My money is invested and I have an income. Plus, I also have my apartment in France. So, there really is very little for me to worry about on that score. Not working opened up some amazing opportunities. So in the past two years I’ve had time to go to galleries and museums. To attend concerts and learn about classical music. I’ve travelled extensively and last year for the first time ever was away from home on holiday for 5 straight weeks. The best part of not working though is not feeling tired and stressed all the time. Indeed, I didn’t know I was tired until I wasn’t any more.

This year has been weird. But the enforced time at home has brought with it some silver linings. I have plants in pots and I have my tomato plants. Plus, I have plans for growing more things. I’ve almost finished my cross stitch that has taken 5 years and I have a new one that I’m determined to complete in a fraction of the time. I’ve stepped up my French online lessons and am on the lookout for resources to help with my comprehension of spoken French. I am hopeful of the opportunity to practice in real life by September.

Taking a negative and making it into a positive

I can’t pretend that I haven’t struggled these past months. We should be in Spain right now. My weight hasn’t increased but I’ve lost the momentum for weight loss. The surgery I thought I’d have at this autumn is now a distant hope. In fact I am wondering if it would be worth the effort. Breast reconstruction is big stuff. The surgery lasts at least 8 hours and the recovery is long.

I’ve grown used to my body as it is. I’d rather have two boobs but it isn’t the end of the world. I have my health and my partner loves me as I am.

I’m looking forward to a future when we aren’t all fearful of stepping outside the door. I want to eat in a restaurant again and stay in a hotel. Coronavirus is something I will be very glad to see the back of. But as I said at the beginning we probably won’t know when we are living normally again until we are. I’m pretty sure it will happen and I know we’ll look back on this year and hopefully embrace the beginnings it allows us to have.

The collar is never off

Two new memes started this week. Quote Quest run by Little Switch Bitch (I plan to write for that in my next post) and No True Way, run by Lillith Avir. The first prompt for Lillith’s meme is: Whether worn or not, the collar is never off.

Master gave me my collar in July 2015. Before that I had worn a chunky chained bracelet with a lock as well as various leather collars during play. The symbolism of this collar, made of titanium and locked in place by means of a tiny screw felt different. But not just because you need a screwdriver to be able to take it off.

What the collar signifies

First and foremost it means ownership. His of me. It tells me and others that I am his. That I have committed myself to him. I like to wear it and have rarely removed it except for medical stuff. It doesn’t set the alarms off at the airport, much to the surprise and disappointment of border staff.

At events and munches it prevents people making a move on me (though I’m not clear they would anyway). So, it gives me a sense of security, but also pride. I wouldn’t be wearing his collar if I wasn’t proud to do so.

The collar is never off

My collar is a symbol of something that I don’t actually need a collar to know. You see, whether I actually have it around my neck or not, I’m still his owned property. I like to feel it there, a cool presence, but I don’t need it to be there.

I know that I am Master’s slave, his slut. I know what his expectations of me are and I know how to please him. There is no need to be wearing a physical symbol to know those things. But I’ve struggled with my submission a little more than usual recently and I’ve found the collar has helped.

When I’m not wearing it I miss it. From September 2018 to February 2019 I couldn’t wear my collar as much as I’d like. Just at a time when to be honest I needed the safety and security of it being there. But that was partly because the reason for removing it was medical stuff. Scans, surgery and then radiotherapy. Putting it back on in February 2019 was a joy.

It feels like I’ve contradicted myself in this post

Which of course I have. I really don’t need a collar to tell me I am Master’s slave and property. But I like the reassurance of it being there. It gives me reassurance and affirms everything I already know. In truth the collar is never really off but I actually don’t want to physically do so.

My Blogging Mojo has disappeared

Head In Her Hands Free Stock Photo - Public Domain Pictures

For the first time in forever I didn’t post a Sinful Sunday image. Not because I didn’t have one, but because I just couldn’t be bothered. I was offered the opportunity to join our Smutlancer productiveness group for a Zoom call yesterday afternoon, I turned that down too. Instead I decided some of my never ending needlepoint (4 years and counting). This is a new feeling for me. I am not feeling my blog in a way I’ve not felt it before. So, I’m here to write about it. Otherwise it might be another week or 3 before I look in here again.

Some thoughts about the reasons for my lack of blogging mojo are as follows:

Life is getting me down

I know life mid pandemic is getting lots of us down. Plus, my life is in many ways the same as it was before so I have little to moan about. I’m getting sex, possibly more than my libido demands, though my submissive side has gone a little AWOL. This isn’t a real issue, I’m sure given the right circumstances I’ll find it pretty damn quick. But really the never ending nature of this situation is getting me down.

At the beginning I decided that planning and setting about achieving my to do list was the way to get through. I wrote, went for my walk often aimlessly looking at the closed shops in town and got on with painting the hallway. I had an idea I’d paint the kitchen next, once we decluttered the living room and my new blinds arrived. The factory making the blinds closed the same week as the recycling centre did. Ok, I thought I’ll persevere through a few weeks of lockdown and then pick up my projects. So I blogged, walked and kept up my Duolingo French. Even as my chances of going there to practice this year began to slip away.

Numerous weeks later I find myself struggling to want to do anything at all. I don’t always go out to walk even in good weather and have lost my resolve not to drink wine midweek. Plus, I really don’t feel much like writing about a world that I don’t know when (or if) will return. Even erotica feels a fantasy too far.

I blogged so much in February, March and April it’s no wonder my blogging mojo has gone

Struggling to write in May and June is not unusual for me. My pattern of blogging tends to be the same. Lots of effort in January (new year, new planner), Photography in February, An urge to write after the photography in March and then April A-Z.

Plus I started a new blog about food, fitness and health and immediately found my desire to write on it disappear. I’ve had to prioritise writing here because it’s more established and I have invested much more in it. The effort of running two sites is much higher than I imagined it to be. Even with little else to do in my life. The end result has been not writing for either. Then there are the memes.

Some memes are now tainted

Every week I used to use Rebel’s SoSS post to list out my writing plan for the week (or longer given those that are biweekly and monthly). But one of the fallouts from the gender identity / misgendering shit storm was that I lost and was blocked by twitter ‘friends’. This made it easy to not write for their memes. I really don’t want to judge them for their mistakes as others are much better at that than me. I know members of the trans blogging community would rather we didn’t support blogs and memes belonging to those who have misgendered them or liked posts that did. But I just can’t be that simplistic in my approach to blogging.

I don’t want to upset anyone but I want to be free to choose what I write about and where I link it. I want people to get on, but at the same time won’t tolerate bigotry, unkindness and intolerance. Over the past few weeks I’ve spent time trying to learn more about the issues raised by the trans blogging community and I hope others will do the same. I only ever write on a topic that speaks to me, or link more generally if I want to. But I don’t want to feel wrong for doing so any more than I want this to be the only reason for boycotting. I know plenty of people don’t agree with me, but this is what feels right for me. In the future that may change as new memes appear on the scene and I find my place within them. I also understand that sitting on the fence is not an option, in the end I may well make a different decision on this.

Work

Usually at this time of year we are planning to go on holiday, we should have been leaving for France and Spain in a couple of weeks. Knowing this wasn’t going to happen I volunteered to join the nursing workforce and go back to work. For various reasons I received training for the role assigned to me but never got to do any actual work. The good thing is that this meant that the local Covid situation was settling. But it made me feel without purpose. My mood sank and I struggled for motivation for the most simple of tasks.

Thankfully a new opportunity has arisen and I am about to start in a contact tracing role. This work is from home and so safer. It will also be vital to getting this country moving again. I’ll be speaking on the phone to confirmed cases and their contacts. Advising their health, advising them on how to prevent spread and what they might need to tell others. Not being able to see people and hold their hand is an alien thing for a nurse, but hopefully it will be worthwhile and fulfilling.

I’m not going to be able to write about work, but I hope that with a new purpose I’ll feel freer to write about sex, relationships, kink and everything else.

Interestingly for someone unable to write, this post is over 1000 words. Go me!

Being this girl

I'm sitting on the grass with one leg under the other. You can see I'm not wearing panties.

In many ways being this girl is like being someone else. Someone that exists only to be his and to serve. That was likely the purpose of the exercise, as described in this post. Julie was (and is) a strong minded individual. Caring, loving and devoted to loved ones. Hard working and tenacious. All useful qualities but ones that made it difficult to let go. Julie wanted to please, but had a tendency to try to please the wrong people, to allow herself to be used. That’s how this girl came to be.

Then

When Master first broached the idea Julie truly thought he was crazy. This wasn’t something she had experience of, hadn’t even read about. But after a bit of reflection she decided to give it a go. Speaking the words out loud were and still can be hard. After all the word I is a frequent part of our daily language. Surely only weird people refer to themselves in the third person. It turns out that weird people and submissive’s instructed to do so by their Dominants. Try saying it…..”First this girl did this and then she did that” or “Please can this girl come” (the second is probably the most uttered phrase of our relationship). It took some getting used to (both asking and asking in that way.

The key thing that being this girl has done though is to enable her to let go of Julie, to just be a slave. To live in the moment. This was particularly the case during challenging times with the ex and with family. A release from responsibilities at the end of a working week. An opportunity to focus. To be able to come home from work, to change and to speak aloud as your slave self. It was like layers of skin peeling off of an onion to reveal something fresh and new.

If you don’t use the words I or me, then it is easier to request something taboo. To ask to be humiliated or degragated, because it removes the focus from you as an individual. Instead you become a toy, or play thing. An object. So, Julie was able to become property, a thing to be used and played with. A slave with no other purpose than to provide pleasure to her Master.

Now

Of course things were fresh and new right then. We didn’t live together and so our focus when we were alone in a private place was each other. There was a point sometime during 2017 that preparations began for Julie to move in with Master. We began work on decluttering and preparing the house to be sold. Then after the move in 2018 there was a period of settling in and then breast cancer. All of this caused things to change, just a little.

As I’ve said before, this girl is still present in the bedroom. It feels easy these days to slip into the role of slave for those moments. But that’s where the problem lies. Although this girl is still present within Julie, she doesn’t appear often enough. Submission often feels a little further away than it used to and I (deliberate use of this pronoun) don’t know how to get her back. Do I want to? Yes, I do. Being this girl makes me feel safe (not to say that I’m not). She is a big part of my life and I love the feeling she gives me. But these things have to be worked at and it will take two of us to do so. I have the feeling we ought to give it a go.

There’s nothing wrong with our relationship, it just feels different. This was always going to happen because life happens. But maybe it’s time to rethink this Master / slave relationship. This slave needs it.

Love and life right now

Covid-19 Virus Coronavirus - Free image on Pixabay

Deep down I knew that the Coronavirus lockdown would last for months rather than weeks. But that doesn’t mean to say that I was emotionally prepared for it. Back in those early days at the end of March we were busy with home projects. During much of April we had good weather so eating lunch in the garden or on our balcony was a regular thing. We are used to spending lots of time together, so there was nothing new. Anyway, I was planning to be out a bit working. Then last week it was cold and wet, our projects were stuck and the work opportunity vanished. For a few days I felt without purpose and just plain miserable. I know Master feels it too. But I and we are fighting back. Below are my thoughts on the past 7 weeks detailing different parts of our love and life.

Getting things done

Over the winter we finally started to sort the house out. When I moved in nearly two years ago there was a lot of clutter which meant insufficient room for many of my things. I have my office which was completed last summer and so have my books there. But much of my treasured possessions remain in the garage and a lot of clothes are in boxes under the bed. So, where to start?

Master’s books were stacked everywhere in the living and dining room. So much so that I’ve never eaten at the dining table in this house. So I suggested the place to start was in those rooms. Progress was rapid and before Christmas we had specialist shelving installed on one side of both rooms. Then in March (after we’d finished decorating) the shelving was complete. I ordered new blinds for the windows and imagined we’d soon be straight.

But we have 7 or 8 empty bookshelves waiting to move and nowhere to put them. The household recycling centre closed in March and so we were stuck. Then the factory making my blinds closed and we had already thrown out the rails and curtains. I did manage to paint the hallway and want to continue into the kitchen, but we have nowhere to put the kitchen contents.

There is light at the end of the tunnel now because the recycling centres start reopening next week. I’m feeling hopeful that the blinds might be made soon too. I need to feel that we can get things done and make our enforced time at home worthwhile. Right now I feel more hopeful about that than I’ve done to date.

Lethargy

On the whole we have retained much of the structure of our life. Neither of us is working (we’ve both taken early retirement) so we don’t need to be up early, but I am a bit of an early bird. Master on the other hand is something of a night owl. I have learned over the past couple of years not to leap out of bed too early and having me around has encouraged him up sooner. We also have a more structured bed time than he previously had.

Our life is usually quite busy though. We go out to lots of cultural events – concerts, galleries, exhibitions and festivals. So, when there is nothing in the diary you need more than an occasional food shopping trip to make it feel worth getting up and going for.

At times we have both been filled with energy and enthusiasm to do things and at others not. Funnily enough not at the same time. I think this might be a good thing, because being lethargic together means we both struggle to do anything at all. We’ve tried to encourage each other on, but at times the frustration shows. We don’t argue often but when we do it isn’t pleasant. This week we’ve had late night arguments twice, something I’d like to avoid going forward.

Work

Having announced to the world I was going back to nursing, I embarked on induction and training in my own time. Then just as I thought I was about to be let loose on the world they decided they didn’t really need me. Well they haven’t said that but that’s the implication. I have uniforms in my wardrobe and PPE in my car. Both will be returned if nothing happens, but it has made me feel really fed up.

Thankfully a new opportunity has arisen, which is to help with the contact tracing that will be needed to loosen lockdown. This work will definitely happen and I have a paid training shift in my diary and have some work shifts booked too. It is also a bit more money than the original work. This job will mean working from home, so no need for uniform or PPE. Plus, I think this is going to be a really worthwhile job that will need to continue for some time.

Master on the other hand has no intention of going back to work. Instead he is managing our financial affairs which took a bashing in March. Thankfully they are recovering with a few changes. Secondly he is rewriting a wikipedia page for a Spanish author and poet and that’s keeping him busy. Now the books are organised on shelves he has a veritable library to consult. His other project is to map Covid across a number of countries as he prefers his own charts and graphs. These things will help us both going forward I think because we have no idea when we can do the things we want out of the house or travel.

Love and sex

It would be safe to say that neither of us have much in the way of an active libido right now. We’ve had good sex, but not frequently and we haven’t played at all. It’s strange but at a time when we are unable to touch others we aren’t really touching each other much either. I’m not sure why that is. Both of us are making a conscious effort to instigate touch, often when we sit together in the evening. At night Master will put a hand on me, especially if I’ve been snoring. There have been a few hugs, but I feel we need to make an effort to do more.

I’ve written some sexy posts and read some sexy and erotic books and blog posts. But it has been hard to transfer those feelings to our own life. I’m hoping that we can find a way to prioritise those things. Longer days and warmer weather will help as will being active independently of each other during the day times.

Moving forward

I know we are lucky. We are together, haven’t taken a drop in income (other than our long term savings, but they will recover) nor do we need to homeschool any children. But that doesn’t mean that we find the current situation easy. We have mourned the loss of the life we had and don’t know when or if we will get all of it back. I’ve been sad to see former colleagues losing their colleagues, team or organisation members. I’ve also hated the decisiveness of the recent arguments in the sex blogging community. All of this takes its toll.

So, going forward I hope we can soon restart our work in the house. I also have some plans for the garden, since I’ll be here and so can actually grow some stuff. Flowers and also one or two vegetables. Fingers crossed the planned work comes to fruition this time and that we can regain a little of the structure we had lost. I hope that we’ll be able to go out places and walk more as we get to summer. At present a lot of woodlands etc. are open but you can’t park.

As for sex, well I plan to try to make more of an effort because I think my libido is more suppressed than Masters, partly because of my medication. But I would love him to do so too. I don’t feel terribly submissive a lot of the time and know we need to work on this too. But I do feel we can, I do feel hopeful and just a bit positive right now.

Sexual Service

I am kneeling over the sofa. Wearing only a top. My arse and labia are visible and exposed.

I am a sex slave. My role to Master is to provide him with sexual service when he requires it. But also to be ready for him to use me when he wishes. This post is a work of fiction based on a limited amount of reality but mostly reading, fiction and non fiction.

My word of the day is RULES. Every day Master texts me a word or occasionally phrase while we are both at work. At the weekends, if we are home he tells me the word. Corner time is at 4pm which is shortly after I arrive home. I remove my clothes and then kneel on the floor in a corner of our room on a carefully placed pillow. Knees wide, back straight and hands behind my head. The purpose is for me to concentrate on my word while naked and vulnerable. To think about the meaning of the word and it’s relation to my service.

I know the rules by heart. I know that the key purpose of my role as Master’s sex slave is to be his slut and to provide him with sexual service. The rules are in place to make sure I do just that.

Rule number 1

I shall always be available for his use. This means that I do not wear underwear unless he says I should. In effect this means wearing a bra at work. At home I am often naked, unless we expect visitors or it is very cold. I also wear an apron when cooking. There is a certain vulnerability to never wearing panties, especially when I am aroused or hot. I often think others can small my cunt, though no one has ever mentioned it. When sitting I am not to cross my legs, often Master will tell me to sit with them wide open, even when we are out. This can be humiliating, but also a massive turn on.

When he decides I am to provide sexual service, to be used, which is most days, I must thank him. I beg him to use my holes, to come inside my slut body. Or, of course outside if he wishes. Whichever I thank him for the gift of his come.

Rule number 2

I am not allowed to touch my cunt nor come without permission. However Master tells me to touch myself often for his pleasure. This is fine when we are home alone together, less easy when we are out or have people over. Often when we are out eating dinner I will have been instructed to play with my clit. To bring myself close to climax, to edge. One hand on my fork and another on my lap, or so you may think. Other times it will be his fingers that stroke and tease. He studies me closely, watching my cheeks grow pink. He’ll then make me come when we get into the car, there in the car park or by the side of the road.

I am able to control my orgasms quite well, even when he uses the wand on me. But I really have to focus, to concentrate on my submission and remember that he is the owner of my body and my orgasms. He takes great pleasure in making me come the moment he demands. I don’t know how he does that!

Rule number 3

He is known to me as Master or Lord and I am this girl, slut or slave depending on his desires. I understand the meaning of this. I am nothing but the name Master choses to call me. Of course I have a name at work or when with family or vanilla friends. But always I know that I am property. His and his alone. He is my Lord and Master. I worship him and await his need to use me. That isn’t to say that I am not loved, cherished and cared for. Sometimes I am his pet, often his lover. He takes care of me, cooks for me, takes me to lovely places and buys me things. That he owns me is calming, reassuring. It makes me feel safe, wanted. His.

Rule number 4

I have a number of daily tasks, these sometimes change. Each morning I suck his cock if required. I also stand or sit in the shower or bath while he pees on me. I can’t say I enjoy it but I am used to it. It is warm and I have come to appreciate the feeling. I find it arousing, indeed humiliation to me is a massive turn on. After a shower and I have shaved my pussy, legs and underarms, I insert the plug he has chosen for me. This is worn for 2-3 hours so is removed in the bathroom at work. I dress in the way he wishes, often looking quite demure from the outside.

Throughout the day we keep in contact. Be both have busy and demanding jobs, but text a few times. There is usually a photo for me to take and send though.

Rule number 5

I kneel and present myself when Master arrives home

My working day is until 3pm. This fits in well with my sexual service duties and also those around the house. As mentioned above I spend half an hour in quiet contemplation before moving on to any house work and meal preparation. That’s not to say Master doesn’t do his fair share of house work etc. Because he does. He is particularly responsible for food shopping and this is one area where I tell him what might be needed.

Master texts me as he leaves work or the shops and I then prepare for his homecoming. This is a special time for us both. I kneel in the living room and wait in readiness for him. He greets his slave and inspects my body and asks for details of my day. Then he goes to change while I start dinner or put things away. Then he will open wine and we’ll often share the cooking chores.

There was a time when I would spend the evening at his feet while we watched TV or played music and chatted. But now I’m that bit older the sofa has become a better place to be, for us both.

Our evenings tend to be like most other peoples. Except I am usually naked and he is likely to be stroking some part of his property or making me suck his cock as he feels appropriate. Often we will retire to the play room where Master will restrain his slave and torture me. Pain and pleasure are such amazing bedfellows.

This is the life I chose

When we met, I quickly learned what life would be like if we came together as a couple. Master and slave. He was clear that it was a sex slave he desired. One he could use for his pleasure, whether sex or play. We discussed and wrote down our kinks and fetishes. On the day of our collaring ceremony I gave myself willingly to him. My limits are now his. Most decisions (outside work and my family) are his. The body that belonged to me is now his, as are the orgasms and control. He has total power over me and this is the life I chose. My role is to provide sexual service to my Lord.

I’d never be a cougar

A cougar (animal)

The only three categories beginning with W are Women’s rights, Work and Wicked Wednesday. Guess which one this post will be categorised under for the 110th time. This week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt is Cougar. Definition: Large American cat (see above) or an older woman seeking a sexual relationship with a younger man. In this post I’m going to tell you why I am not and probably never will be a cougar.

All my men have been older

My ex is over 4.5 years older than me. I was most pleased when he asked me out because it was definitely a thing to have an older boyfriend. I was almost 16 and he was 20. Each year the gap widened slightly when he had his birthday in October and I caught up again the following August. Around that time we might have had about the same mental age and it suited us. We had lots of fun and were only grown ups at work (once I did so).

Later when chatting to men online I tried to avoid those that were young, preferring men of my own age or older. When I started meeting men I’d met online they were also older than me.

Young men online

There are lots of young men in chat rooms that seek out an older woman. No doubt the reverse is true, but I’ve never done it. They tell you they love older women, they want to learn from you and think you and other older women are sexy. I’d chat with some of them, but drew the line at anyone the same age or younger than my son. Nowadays they’d have to be over 30 for me to even pass the time of day! However I never wanted to meet any.

They may have been attractive, and I can’t say I mightn’t have fancied them in some way. Liked them even. But I don’t find a much younger man a turn on. It’s the same with women. I find many women attractive and sometimes have an attraction especially when described in erotic fiction. But I know I don’t want to have sex with a woman. It’s just me and I actually wish I did since it’s one of Master’s fantasies.

What about when I am old?

I’m not expecting to go looking for a man again, instead I hope to grow old with the man I have. But I guess there is a chance that when I’m 75 I might want sex with a 60 year old or something. However I wouldn’t imagine a 60 year old wanting a cougar. I guess only time will tell!

This post was my first Wicked Wednesday in 2016.

#AtoZChallenge 2020 Blogging from A to Z Challenge letter W
Wicked Wednesday

Used and Vanilla Family Life

I’m behind with the Blogging A-Z but determined to catch up and finish. So, I’m covering another two topics today. These are really polar opposites to each other. There are just two categories on my blog beginning with U, the other being Underwear. Vanilla Family Life is the only one beginning with V.

Used

This category denotes the times I am and have been used for Master’s pleasure. He’ll say “I need to warm myself up inside you” For example. Or will instruct me to kneel and suck his cock. Instructions and commands actually turn me on. I like to be used and to be of service to him. It puts me in to my submissive state and reaffirms that I am his slave.

Our libido has been low this past few weeks. So the times I have been used sexually have reduced. There are also days when we both have things we want or need to do. But I always know that he can decided this is the moment, at any time. Our sex usually takes place in the morning, this is the best time for him. If we have sex at night it’s usually because we’ve both had a drink or 5. At those times I really am at my most submissive, but memories tend to be hazy the next day. So, mornings are best for sexual use.

Vanilla Family Life

There have been times during the life of this blog that I have had nothing sexy or kinky I’ve wanted to talk about. Times when I’ve needed to concentrate on family more than I’d probably like. Other times there have been family events – weddings, Christmas etc, that I’ve talked about on here.

I made a decision at the beginning of the blog that I would write about anything that took my fancy. That I’d use it as a kind of journal. So that means you get a variety of information out of me. I find it useful to write about different things and then later to be able to look back and see what I had to say. No doubt this category, though not used very frequently will continue to be a feature.

Sex

A theme running through this whole blog is sex. The whole purpose of starting the blog in the first place was to catalogue my journey in both sex and submission. Back in 2012 I had only had intercourse with one man and had never experienced anal sex. I masturbated a lot, but was rarely satisfied. This seems to be something others observe when in unfulfilling relationships.

To begin with there was so much to write about, as I experienced new sensations, physically and emotionally. Later when I met Master I went through them again, and more. I tend not to write in detail about my own sex life any more. Not because there is nothing to write, but because we tend to do the same things. It’s not dull at the time, but would be if I described it. So, instead I’ve started to explore fiction. To take real events, often from my blog and turn them into stories. I plan to do more of that in the future.

Total Power Exchange (TPE) and Sex

Our relationship is classed as a power exchange. I have agreed that he should have total power over me in many areas of my life. I find this means that I have less to worry and concern myself with and that I can leave many decisions to him. When it comes to our sex life this really suits me. I am rubbish at saying what I like and want. I just want someone else to make the decisions, use me and make me to what they want. This isn’t something I knew back at the beginning of this blog. But it has certainly turned out that way.

It is in the bedroom or playroom that I am at my most submissive (as you would imagine). That is where I can leave Julie behind and just be his bitch. He is pretty creative and likes to keep a running commentary going. At the time I often think that this would make a great blog post, but then later can’t remember everything that was said. Maybe I should record it some time!

To be made to kneel and suck his cock when I’ve been thinking about other things helps me get into the right head space. I rarely say no to him. It isn’t that I am the most obedient slave but I tend to be compliant in certain circumstances. When it comes to sex and foreplay as well as the opportunity for bondage and impact play then I most definitely am.

My sex life now is completely different to how it used to be. We are old(wish) and don’t have loads of sex. But when we do it is kinky and very good. Long may it continue.

#AtoZChallenge 2020 Blogging from A to Z Challenge letter S
#AtoZChallenge 2020 Blogging from A to Z Challenge letter T