Life Changes

Today is my son’s fourteenth birthday.  It’s a bit surreal, I must admit.  He’s gotten so tall in the past couple of years.  He is showing signs of real maturity (interlaced with signs of immaturity – he’s only fourteen, after all!)  I’m getting glimpses of the adult he is becoming and it’s a wonderful thing to see.

I remember myself at fourteen.  I call that my “awful year.”  That’s the year that spiraled out of control for me and caused so much damage to my psyche and soul.  When I was fourteen, I was molested twice, once by a family member and once by a neighbor.  My one parent on the scene was emotionally unavailable, going through her own version of a nervous breakdown in the aftermath of her divorce. Her response to my attempts to tell her what happened was to move us to another city and never speak of it again.  My father was far away, inventing a new life for himself, and refused my requests for sanctuary.  I drank, I smoked, I wandered the streets and got involved with the wrong people. Luckily enough (looking back on it I can use that phrase – it could have been so much worse) I wasn’t raped, either during the molestations or my wanderings with “friends” while drinking.   I wasn’t beaten or given an STD. I didn’t get hooked on drugs.  But god, the reverberations of those horrible experiences are still with me today.

I withdrew from society and became a loner, even more so than before. I always knew I was ugly, but now I was sure of it – and I think I went out of my way to be unattractive so I wouldn’t be noticed. Do you remember the girl in high school who always avoided eye contact, wore long pants and baggy shirts, never wore make-up, and always had her nose stuck in a book?  That was me.  It didn’t help that we moved 4 times between seventh and twelfth grades, to 3 different cities no less.  By the time I ended up in the last school for my eleventh and twelfth grades of high school, I was a master at avoiding people.  No one noticed me. I talked to no one. I rarely even talked to teachers. I lived through my books.

I got as far away as I could for college, going to a small college on the edge of the mountains.  I did try to open up – I made one close friend, made a couple of contact friends, joined a couple of clubs.  I loved college for the freedom to go where I wanted, when I wanted. But I remained closed emotionally.  And my social skills were nonexistent.  I avoided large groups like the plague, hating to draw attention to myself.

I first started experimenting with larger social groups in my third year of college. I moved closer to home, transferring to much larger college, and got a job as hostess at a local restaurant.  My stepfather got the me the job – I wasn’t exactly “hostess” material, shrinking into the background as I was wont to do!  It was a failing restaurant and we had few customers, but I met a friend there, Alex.  He was gay, about as flamboyant as you can imagine, and was a wonderful introduction to a society I could join and be safe in.  I could go out with Alex to gay clubs and not worry about being looked at.  I loved it. I was craving social contacts, but terrified of it as well and had no idea how to be a “girl.”  I had avoided make-up, girly clothes, heels, you name it. My goal in life up until then was to be invisible, and I had done a great job of it.  So now, how to go about joining life again?   Alex had definite ideas on what a girl should look like and dress like, and while I didn’t agree with him much of the time, it was freeing to try to wear dresses, make-up, etc.  Thanks to Alex, I got a better job waiting tables at a local country club.

At the country club, there was this tall, lanky, gorgeous guy who was the bartender.  He was quiet but oh, so funny.  I made my first straight guy friend and loved the chance to talk with him on slow nights. We became friends, and I eventually realized that he liked me.  Oh god. I was terrified.  I had almost no experience with guys.  I didn’t date in high school, didn’t go to my prom or senior events. I didn’t date in college, either. Hell, I barely talked to girls – I had NO experience talking to guys!  Alex and his buddies weren’t much help, either. They were convinced I was gay.  They even set me up on a couple of dates with lesbians, sure that would trigger my inner gayness.  These didn’t work – I was attracted to the girls, I agree – to this day I consider myself “heteroflexible”, not straight – but there wasn’t a spark there.

So here was this smart, funny, gorgeous guy who seemed to like me.  He wrote me poetry. He sang songs. We would talk for hours. And I liked him, too.  But I was so scared, and so shut off.  The first time we necked and I let him get his hands inside my pants, I had a major panic attack. In fact, the first times we ever tried new things, I would have long, jagged crying spells afterwards.  And still, he liked me.

At social events I would freeze up. We’d go out with his buddies and I would hide in the corner, never able to talk and usually being incredibly anti-social. And still he liked me.  I tried to tell him that it wouldn’t work, that we couldn’t be together. And still he liked me.

It’s been almost 20 years now that we’ve been together.  K saved my life. He saw inside the hard frozen shell that I kept erected around myself to the soft, creamy center. He broke through my walls and drew me out.  Because of him, I have discovered myself. I even like myself (most days!)  I have discovered that I am sexual, that I am sexy, that I am beautiful, that I am social, that I AM.

I guess my son turning fourteen triggered this reflection on my life, where it started going badly and where I’ve ended up.  My wish for my son is to have a joyful life, one filled with hope and inspiration and love. I hope and pray he never has an event that sends him hiding inside his shell for years, scared to come out.  He’s growing and changing and becoming a wonderful man.  My wish is for him to one day meet a girl (or guy) that he will love forever, one he is willing to wait for, work for, hope for, wish for.  I want him to grow up to be a man like his father,  like K.  A good, kind-hearted man who can make his partner’s dreams come alive.

Our Trip to New Orleans, Part 2

Okay,  I did promise a follow-up to our trip to New Orleans, so here goes.  

We decided to go to Collette’s, a swingers club in New Orleans.  Not that we’re swingers – well, we don’t think we are, who knows?  We’ve already discovered several things about ourselves that were hidden, so maybe we are. But at this point in time, we’re not.  We went to Collette’s for a couple of reasons.  

1 – We wanted to keep exploring alternative life styles.  This seemed like a good way to see other people being sexually aware without being too risky, and would give us a chance to see how we both reacted to sexually aware people in a public place.

2 – I have a definite exhibitionist streak, and wanted to see if I was daring enough to “show my goods,” as it were.  

So, this nightclub experience was to be the culmination of our trip to New Orleans.  I went shopping before we left for New Orleans to find the perfect outfit.  The club was advertising $20 off if ladies went without panties – and you had to prove it, of course.  So I needed a dress that I could reveal myself in easily, yet still be able to walk to the club down the streets of New Orleans without getting in trouble. 

Have I mentioned that I have self-image/body issues?  I guess all women (and probably a lot of men) do.  I have never considered myself to be sexy or even attractive. Even now that I’ve lost a lot of weight and think my body looks pretty good, I still don’t like my face.  So this was going to be a tough assignment for me.  I had to feel sexy and look sexy too. 

I found some amazing high heels – I had to hold on to K to walk in them on the streets, but I loved the way they made my legs and ass look.  I wore a garter belt with black lace stockings, a sexy push-up bra, a demure dress that was silky/satiny with a low-cut neckline that was easily opened and a skirt that could easily be pushed up.  I did my make-up and I did feel sexy.  I was proud of myself.

When the time came to go to the club, I got really nervous.  Like, really nervous. I tend to chatter to K when I’m nervous, so I kept up a running commentary on every possible topic on our short 3-block walk to the club.  I decided on the way that I was just not brave enough to flash my crotch, so we’d just have to pay the extra $20.  

When we got there, we were ushered into a foyer where we had to pay our entrance fee.  I shocked myself when the lady asked me if I was wearing panties – I said no and pulled up my skirt, as if I was always this brazen.  I still smile when I remember doing that – I can be brave!

Both K and I are introverts. We are shy. We do not go out to socialize with strangers.  This makes our venture to this particular club a bit odd, I guess, but we really wanted to see just who comes to clubs like this. Is it all just skeezy guys looking to score, or are there couples we’d find interesting and attractive?  The answer is YES – to both questions. 

We spent the first 30 minutes or so downstairs next to the bar area/dance floor.This place is a BYOB, but both K and I had opted to not bring in any alcohol.  Me, because one drink sends me to sleep, and K, because he’s not a big drinker and had already had a couple of beers with dinner.  We couldn’t bring ourselves to go up to anyone and talk, so we just necked and relaxed a bit on one of the couches. We had been given a tour by this bubbly funny lady, so we knew that upstairs was where most of the “action” would take place.  I people watched, and was nervous when I caught some couples watching back.  Was I up to this?

We eventually got up the courage to head upstairs.  I wanted to go into the “library,” a room with several couches close together for couples to watch each other, but lost my courage.  We ended up on an empty couch that was in the main hallway area, where people would pass by us when they came up the stairs.  Honestly, I picked that couch because I just couldn’t bring myself to go further – if we had gone down the hallway a bit more, we would have come to the bedrooms and I just couldn’t. Not on this first visit.  We could see into the library from where we were, but we were removed from it. 

We necked quite a lot, whispered to each other and giggled, and I did pull open my top to let K nuzzle and lick my nipples.  I also parted my legs and let K’s hand travel up to my slit and stroke me there.  It felt quite brazen, but I think in retrospect it was probably pretty tame. But for me, it was quite thrilling.  We did have several people walk by, and some  stopped and watched.  I kept my face hidden but loved the idea that my pussy was exposed for others to see. 

We didn’t stay for too long, and our adventures were tame, I suppose, compared to others, but for our first foray into the world of adventurous sex, we did okay. We made our way back to the hotel, had amazing sex, and then snuggled.  I counted the evening a success, although I admit to feelings of guilt and shame later – I have guilt/shame issues, but what person doesn’t?  Still, I loved it – though I’m not sure if I liked the club per se, or just the feeling of being on display.  

Our adventures are ever-changing.  We plan to attend a munch soon for a local BDSM group and get to know the members and see if we fit. I am going to get some nekkid boudoir photos done before the end of summer – that will be a challenge, but I am hyped. And……we’ll see. Who knows what comes next?

Link

A New Silicone Condom? Fascinating!

A Short Story: “Mail Delivery at the Office”

I sit at my desk, bored beyond belief as I type in numbers into the computer.  It’s been 3 long hours since lunch, the end of the day looks likes it will never get here, and all I can think of is, “there’s got to be more to life than this.”  I look up when someone clears his throat and see the mail delivery guy holding out my mail.  He’s hot -tall;  dark-complected;   wavy,curly short hair that I long to run my fingers through;  a wide set of shoulders that show off his tight abs and narrow waist;  and thighs that I’d love to feel grip me.  He winks at me and saunters off, and I feel my cheeks redden, knowing he’s caught me checking him out.

I turn in my cubicle to watch him walk away, and admire his tight ass cheeks through his khakis.  Now, why couldn’t I have one of those to relieve this afternoon boredom?  Hmmmm…….who says I can’t?

I get up and walk casually in the same direction. I wore a pencil skirt to work today, with garter belt and black stockings, and a skimpy lace thong.  I also wore my high heels – they just make my legs look so good I couldn’t resist, even though they kill my feet.  I stop in the bathroom to freshen my make-up and slip off my panties, which I put into my purse, then saunter back out, searching for the guy who’s going to make my boredom go away.

I find him at the end of his delivery run, chatting with someone at the elevator.  He turns around when I approach, and I see the flare in his eyes when he looks at my legs.  The elevator door opens and the two guys get on. So do I.  I smile demurely at them and then study the doors, hoping that the other man will get off soon, so that I can get off, too!  My luck holds – the extra guy leaves at the next stop, and all that’s left is gorgeous man and little ole me.

When the doors close, I turn to him and smile coyly, then run my hands down my blouse, cupping one of my boobs while staring into his eyes. I feel a frisson of heat run down to my clit when he reaches out and pushes the “stop” button on the elevator, then moves towards me and cups my other breast in his hand, his eyes never leaving mine.  I guess he read the permission in my eyes, because he suddenly spins me around, grabs my shoulder-length hair in a tight grip, and bends me over at the waist.  I gasp, desire sending a trickle down my thighs, and reach out to grab the bar that runs around the elevator, holding myself steady.

He doesn’t say a word, just pushes my skirt up past my ass, a growl of approval coming from his throat when he sees that I’ve removed all barriers for him. He releases his cock from his pants and runs his hands all over my ass and into my slit, feeling my wetness.  He sucks one finger, and I nearly cum from watching him in the mirrored wall.

He doesn’t rush, but doesn’t waste any time, either.  He starts spanking my ass cheeks, first one then the other, until I know they are bright pink. I sigh and moan, loving the erotic feeling of pain mixed with pleasure.  He reaches around, pinches my clit, and pushes his cock into me at the same time.  I almost cum right away, but he releases my clit to grab onto my hips, moving in a slow, sensuous rhythm.  As he starts to speed up, he inserts one finger slowly into my ass, and the sensation of being double-penetrated makes me wild.  I am moaning loudly, pushing back against his cock, and I can feel him hardening further, getting ready to cum.  Right before he cums, he reaches around and pinches my clit again, and I cum, bucking wildly, and feel him cum too.  It lasts forever and a moment, and then we’re both braced against the wall, breathing heavily.

He steps back and pulls my skirt back down, then helps finger-comb my hair into submission.  I pull a tissue from my purse and use it to wipe my pussy, then take my panties out and slip them back on.  He holds my arm gently to steady me as I maneuver the lacy thong on, then finishes putting himself back together. We study each other in the mirrored wall, smiling, then he reaches out and starts the elevator again.

He gets off at his floor, and I push the button for my own floor, ready to return to work.  I think this job just got a lot more interesting.  I can’t wait for the next mail delivery.

Flavor of the Week?

So K and I have started this journey…..and it’s been exciting and wonderful, if a bit scary.  We started by spicing up our love life, adding in small things like blindfolds, anal play, and a limited amount of hand binding.  I was really surprised how my interest in sex increased with these things.  

If you had asked me a couple of years ago if I liked sex, I would have answered automatically, “sure.”  But it wouldn’t have been an enthusiastic answer.  Over the many years of our marriage, sex has been last on my list of “things to do.”  First our children were young and required a lot of time and energy, and my sleep was shortened accordingly.  Then my job was demanding and stressful and shortened my sleep accordingly.  Somehow, sex was always the last item on my list.  Rather than being a fundamental pleasure and release, it was just another thing on my “to-do” list.  And it wasn’t always an item that I wanted to check off. 

For the past half year or so, though, sex has become much more than simply a job to complete.  It’s become joyous, and scary, and oh so enthralling.  It’s strange to think that this change is because of the way we’re having sex.  Really? Just because my husband has started to spank me, and tie me up, and make me do things?  This is what I need?  

 

Oh, god, it really is.  I feel alive when he takes control.  I can simply turn off my mind to all the things I’m worrying about, and give up control of my body, and it feels so good.  K and I have always been close, but I feel as if we have learned so much about one another on this journey of ours.  I trust him so much more now.  We’ve talked about our fantasies, even when it has been scary.  We’ve overstepped our boundaries a couple of times and been a bit shaken up, but have recovered and talked and talked and talked until we’re both okay and ready to explore some more.  I never thought I’d enjoy being tied and blindfolded and explored, but I love it. 

And so I wonder, just where will this journey of ours lead us?  Are we really part of the BDSM crowd?  Are we really kinky?  Or are we just a couple of vanilla people who like a bit of spice?  I guess the labels we put on ourselves don’t really matter. All that matters is that we have discovered a way to reconnect, to ignite our inner selves, and to reach such joyous orgasmic heights that it makes me cry sometimes.  

I’m so grateful we found butt plugs and blindfolds, handcuffs and floggers.  And I can’t wait to see what our next steps will be.  

We’re looking at communities around us, and contemplating going to a munch or two to meet people in the kinky community.  That’s a very scary idea for someone with social anxiety, and I’m terrified, but yet drawn.  I have a feeling we’ll be there soon….

A Trip to New Orleans, Part 1

K and I decided to take a trip to New Orleans for our anniversary.  We’re still exploring each other’s fantasies and desires, trying to determine just how far to take them.  So far, all of our exploration has been in our own home, in our own bedroom.  Now……we decided the focus of this trip would be sex and exploration.

We are both rather shy people in public, quiet types who love to talk to interesting people but have NO idea how to go about finding and meeting those people!  The idea of going into bars and meeting others is scary. I, in particular, have social anxiety in a bad way. Mine manifests itself in swallowing difficulties – I get tense in social situations and can’t swallow food or drink, fearing that I’ll choke in public.  This is something that I want to fix, obviously, but it’s been in my life for a long while and I know it’ll take a while to make it go away.

We both had a mini bucket list of things we wanted to do on this trip.  We wanted to visit some adult toy stores and buy some new toys. We wanted to tease each other in public. And we wanted to visit a club that would let us indulge in my exhibitionist fantasies.

We did visit several toy stores, although they didn’t have a lot of the toys that we were looking for. We want to get more bondage equipment. I was looking for a blindfold that would completely block out the light, and those are hard to find.  K wanted a spreader bar and wanted to see the different types of sex swings there were and how hard they were to install.

I got a new butt plug!  This was kind of amazing for me – six months ago, we started experimenting with anal play, and I was very reluctant at first, but now I absolutely love it.  I haven’t built up to wearing it around in public yet, but the thought makes me wet. 🙂

I also got my first collar.  We’re not sure how much we’ll get into the D/s lifestyle, but K wanted me to get a collar, and we picked out one together.  I felt so loved when he told me he wanted to collar me.  I felt claimed.  The collar we did pick out and try is too wide, unfortunately – brings up my choking fears – but I’m going to find one that I can wear that doesn’t press on my throat too much.

And I walked around the French Quarter with K, all around, wearing short skirts, heels, and no panties.  The feeling of my pussy lips sliding around was erotic and maddening. We walked for hours, and the whole time I kept imagining K stopping me and feeling me up, right there on Bourbon Street.  I got so hot!

We did go to a club, and I did show off my pussy lips a bit….and I did get felt up by K in that club…but that will be in a later post. Smile.